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谨以此文纪念濒临消失的说书这门民间艺术!献给末代艺人们!——题记一早上,小队长荷锄在肩,站在周源的家门口,对周妈说队里要说书的事情。早饭后,周妈急忙去了二十多公里远的娘家。三天后,周源蹲在椅子上,勾着头,趴在客堂桌上写作业,“源,在写作业呀?”周源抬头朝门口一望,一个高大白面的书生,推着自行车停在家门前,眼前这位白净亮堂大人,发亮头发三七开,上身穿着白的确良短袖衬衫,胸前佩戴特大毛主席瓷像章,咖啡色棉绸裤薄如蝉翼,无风也自抖擞。车架后网袋里面放着一面鼓,周源知道,这是说书的惊堂外公。
This article dedicated to commemorate the verge of disappearing storytelling folk art! Dedicated to the last generation of entertainers! Inscription in the morning, the squad leader Hoe hoe on the shoulder, standing in front of Zhou Yuan, Zhou Mum said the team to say the book thing. After breakfast, Zhou Ma hurried to more than 20 kilometers away from her parents. Three days later, Zhou Yuan crouched on the chair, hooked his head, lying on the desk in the living room to write homework, “source, writing homework?” Zhouyuan looked up toward the door, a tall white scholar, pushing the bike stop In front of the house, the eyes of the white bright adults, shiny hair March 7 open, wearing a white shirt and chest tight, wearing a large porcelain chest porcelain badge, brown cotton pants as thin as onion skin, no wind also shaking. Inside the bag behind the frame stood a drum, Zhou Yuan know, this is a storyteller.