His grandson, little Guillaume, looked at it often, his fingers itching to hold it, his heart hungering to put it to his lips to see whether he could draw from it at least one pure and beautiful note. 他的孙子，小纪尧姆，经常看着笛子，他的手指发痒，想抓住笛子，渴望把笛子放到嘴唇上，看看他是否能至少吹出一个纯洁而美丽的音符。

Yet little Guillaume was shy, and could not bring him- self to ask for such a privilege. 然而，小纪尧姆很害羞，他不忍心要求这样的特权。

Every day he led his father's sheep to feed upon the hillsides. 他每天牵着父亲的羊到山坡上吃草。

Every day before he went, he lifted his eyes longingly to the high shelf where lay the coveted flute. 每天走之前，他都满怀渴望地抬起眼睛，望着那高高架子，上面放着他梦寐以求的笛子。

At last his mother said to him, ‘‘Why dost thou look so earnestly upon thy grandfather's flute, my little Guillaume? 最后他妈妈对他说，“你为什么那么认真地看着你祖父的笛子，我的小纪尧姆？

Dost think thou couldst play upon it as he played? 你认为你能像他那样利用它吗？

Ah, my child, to do that, one must have a great gift, indeed." 啊，我的孩子，要做到这一点，一个人必须有伟大的天赋。"

Guillaume hung his head, and made no answer. 纪尧姆低下头，没有回答。

He had no belief that he could play upon it, yet he would give much to try. 他不相信自己能吹好笛子，但他愿意付出很多去尝试。

He was about to pass out of the door, but he turned back before he did so, for a last look at the flute. 他正要走出门外，但在他离开之前，他转过身来，最后看了一眼笛子。