概述：

时值秋夜，在我的故乡新斯科舍，小雨淅沥，轻叩锡铁屋顶。。。

Hints:

Nova Scotia

Franklin

It was an autumn night in my native Nova Scotia. A light rain was falling, making tapping sounds on the tin roof and the smell of mould filled the old lodge we were vacationing in for the weekend. A shiver in the air inspired a fire on the Franklin stove. We were all sipping hot chocolate and then my father went over to the upright piano, pushed up the sleeves of his shirt and began picking out a tune with one finger. He was not much of a pianist, but he knew the love of song and family. My mother put down her sewing and joined him on the bench and then my brother drifted to the piano as well. Finally, a poor singer and so usually a violinist instead, I added my voice for a line or two.
时值秋夜，在我的故乡新斯科舍，小雨淅沥，轻叩锡铁屋顶。我们周末度假寄住的古老小屋，弥漫着一股霉味。空气寒冷得让人发抖，于是我们点上了富兰克林取暖炉。我们悠然地喝着热朱古力，接着父亲走向立式钢琴，卷起衬衣袖，伸出一指敲一曲。他算不上一个钢琴家，可他知道歌中的情、家中的爱。母亲放下手中的针线活，和他同坐在一条凳子上，然后我哥哥也快缓步走向钢琴。最后，不太能唱歌却能拉拉小提琴的我也凑热闹唱了一两句。