我的父亲活到了六十岁，他的头发已经斑白，可是我对于他的崇拜和爱，远甚于对所有那些我在他的宫廷里所看到的活泼漂亮的青年呀。
My father had a long white beard, but I loved him; he was sixty years old, but to me he was handsomer than all the fine youths I saw.
我知道威尔爱他那个孩子——红头发、聪明活泼、充满朝气。
I knew that Will loved that boy of his-red-haired, bright as a new penny, full of life.
我的朋友很强壮，他有着短头发，他爱运动。
难道他认为我会爱世上哪一位勇敢英俊的父亲，多于这位我如此挚爱的饱经沧桑、头发斑白的老人吗？
Does he think that there is a gallant, handsome father in this earth that I could love so dearly, cherish so devotedly, as this worn and gray-headed old man?
难道他认为我会爱世上哪一位勇敢英俊的父亲，多于这位我如此挚爱的饱经沧桑、头发斑白的老人吗？
Does he think that there is a gallant, handsome father in this earth that I could love so dearly, cherish so devotedly, as this worn and gray-headed old man?
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