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Pierre would boast at the stable of Joseph's skill. "I never touch the reins. He knows just where to stop. Why, a blind man could handle my route with Joseph pulling the wagon."
皮埃尔在马厩里夸耀约瑟夫：“我永远不需要使用缰绳。它知道要在哪里停下来。一个盲人也可以与约瑟夫一起驾着马车沿着我的路线送牛奶。”
So it went on for years—always the same. Pierre and Joseph both grew old together, but gradually, not suddenly, Pierre's huge long mustache became pure white and Joseph didn't lift his knees so high or raise his head quite as much. Jacques, the Foreman of the stables, never noticed that they were both getting old until Pierre appeared one morning carrying a heavy walking stick.
如此过了许多年——总是一样。皮埃尔和约瑟夫都慢慢地变老了。皮埃尔的长胡子变成了纯白色，约瑟夫的腿也抬不了那么高了，头也扭不了那么多了。直到有一天早上皮埃尔拄着沉重的手杖时，马厩的工头雅克才注意到他们都老了
"Hey, Pierre," Jacques laughed. "Maybe you got the gout, hey?"
“嘿，皮埃尔，”雅克笑着说，“嘿，你可能是患了痛风了？”
"Sure, Jacques," Pierre said a bit uncertainly. "One grows old. One's legs get tired."
“是的，雅克，”皮埃尔迟疑地说，“人老腿先老。”
"You should teach that horse to carry the milk to the front door for you," Jacques told him. "He does everything else."
“你应该让那匹马替你把牛奶送到门前，”雅克对他说，“它能做得到。”
He knew every one of the forty families he served on Prince Edward Street. The cooks knew that Pierre could neither read nor write, so instead of following the usual custom of leaving a note in a empty bottle if an additional quart of milk was needed they would sing out when they heard the rumble of his wagon wheels over the cobbled street. "Bring an extra quart this morning, Pierre."
他对自己服务的爱德华王子街上的四十个住户都很了解。所有的厨师们都知道皮埃尔既不会读也不会写，所以如果需要额外的牛奶时，他们不是按照惯例，在一个空瓶子里留 一张纸条，而是在听到他马车的车轮在鹅卵石街道上发出隆隆的声音时，向他唱出来，“今天早上多带一夸脱牛奶来，皮埃尔。”
"So you have company for dinner tonight," he would call back gaily.
“今晚家里有客人吃饭了吧，”他会高兴地回应。
