They tried their best to be happy, to go about their usual ways. But their usual ways included Sylvester and they were always reminded of him. They were miserable. Life had no meaning for them any more.

Night followed day and day followed night over and over again. Sylvester on the hill woke up less and less often. When he was awake, he was only hopeless and unhappy.

He felt he would be a rock forever and he tired to get used to it, he went into an endless sleep. The days grew colder. Fall come with the leaves changing color. Then the leaves fell and the grass bent to the ground.

Then it was winter. The winds blew this way and that. It snowed. Mostly, the animals stayed indoors, living on the food they had stored up.

One day a wolf sat on the rock that was Sylvester and howled and howled because he was hungry.

Then the snows melted. The earth warmed up in the spring sun and things budded

Leaves were on the trees again. Flowers showed their young faces.

One day in may, Mr. Duncan insisted that his wife go with him on a picnic. “Let’s cheer up,” he said. “let us try to live again and be happy even though Sylvester, our angle, is no longer with us.” They went to Strawberry Hill.

Mrs. Duncan sat down on the rock. The warmth of his own mother sitting on him woke Sylvester up from his deep winter sleep. How he wanted to shout, “Mother! Father! It’s me, Sylvester, I’m right here!” but he couldn’t talk. He had no voice. He was stone-dumb.

Mr. Duncan walked aimlessly about while Mrs. Duncan set out the picnic food on the rock—alfalfa sandwiches, pickled oats, sassafras salad, timothy compote. Suddenly Mr. Duncan saw the red pebble. “what a fantastic pebble!” he exclaimed. “Sylvester would have  loved it for his collection.” He put the pebble on the rock.

They sat down to eat. Sylvester was now as wide awake as a donkey that was a rock could possibly be. Mrs. Duncan felt some mysterious excitement.” You know, Father,” she said suddenly, “I have the strangest feeling that our dear Sylvester is still alive and not far away.”

“I am, I am!” Sylvester wanted to shout, but he couldn’t. if only he had realized that the pebble resting on his back was the magic pebble!

“Oh, how I wish he were here with us on this lovely May day,” said Mrs. Duncan. Mr. Duncan looked sadly at the ground. “Don’t you wish it too, Father?” she said. He looked at her as if to say,” How can you ask such a question?”

Mr. and Mrs. Duncan looked at each other with great sorrow.

“I  wish I were myself again, I wish I were my real self again!” thought Sylvester.

And in less than an instant, he was!

You can imagine the scene that followed—the embraces, the kisses, the questions, the answers, the loving looks, and the fond exclamations!

When they had eventually calmed down a bit, and had gotten home, Mr. Duncan put the magic pebble in an iron safe. Some day they might want to use it, but really, for now, what more could they wish for? They all had all that they wanted.

因为已经出了中文版，专业的翻译水平我是渴望而不可及的，所以这篇就不翻译了。 下一篇 bedtime for Frances 法兰西的睡觉时间 这本是国内没有的，我可以尝试翻译一下。喜欢的朋友留意吧。