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It was autumn. A thin white moon rose over the 1¡¡¡¡ ¡¡of the hill. Peter, 11 years old, however, didn¡¯t see it. He didn't feel the cool wind brushing his face,¡¡ for his thoughts were fixed on a red and black blanket(´²µ¥) on the table. It was given to his grandfather by his father.
Peter had not believed Grandpa would be sent away. But now this was the last evening he and Grandpa would spend 2 ¡¡¡¡¡¡each other. After supper, the old man took up the blanket." 3¡¡ ¡¡¡¡¡¡a fine double blanket! I¡¯ll not feel cold with it."
"Oh, yes!' Peter said, trying 4¡¡ ¡¡¡¡¡¡back tears in his eyes.
Just then in came two people, Father and the girl he was going to marry. The girl went up to Grandpa and said prettily, "I¡¯ll not see you tomorrow, 5¡¡ ¡¡¡¡¡¡I've come over to say good -bye."
"It's nice of you, "said Grandpa. ¡°Will you look at this? Isn't it a fine blanket my son 6 ¡¡¡¡for me?"
"Yes, really." she said, feeling it and then said coldly to Father. "A double one! It must be worth much. But he doesn't need a double one."
"She is right, "the boy suddenly said. ¡°Here, Father, "he 7¡¡¡¡ ¡¡out a pair of scissors.¡± Cut the blanket into two. A single one is enough for an old man. We will keep the other half."
"What do you mean by that?" asked Father.
"I'll give it to you when you are old,¡± said the boy slowly.
And there was a dead silence¡¡