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一阵紧锣密鼓,“开台啦!演戏啰!”一群乡村小丫你拉着我,我唤着你,争先恐后,欢呼雀跃地赶来看戏。她们伸长脖子、竖起耳朵、睁圆双眼,踮着脚尖要把台上演的统统揣进自己小小的心灵。尽管脚丫被人踩痛,尽管脖子已经酸疼,可台上的一招一式,一颦一笑仍深深地牵住她们的视线。也许是小时候听过爷爷戏文里的许多美好传说;也许是那变幻无穷的生旦、净、末以及那滑稽可爱的小丑角,使得她们如痴如醉,俨然成了一群小戏迷……渐渐地,她们
A while in full swing, “Taiching it! Acting Hello!” A group of rural Xiaoya you took me, I call you, scrambling, cheerfully rushed to the theater. They stretched their necks, erected their ears, opened their eyes wide, tiptoe to stage all the performance into his own little mind. Despite the foot ache, although the neck has been sore, can be a trick on stage, a smile still hold their eyes deeply. Perhaps I heard many beautiful legends in my grandpa’s plays as a child. Perhaps the ever-changing immortality, the net, the end, and the funny clown horns made them intoxicated as if they were a group of mini-fans ... gradually ,they