我從此便整天的站在柜臺里，專管我的職務。雖然沒有什么失職，但總覺有些單調(diào)，有些無聊。掌柜是一副兇臉孔，主顧也沒有好聲氣，教人活潑不得；只有孔乙己到店，才可以笑幾聲，所以至今還記得。
孔乙已是站著喝酒而穿長衫的唯一的人。他身材很高大；青白臉色，皺紋間時常夾些傷痕；一部亂蓬蓬的花白的胡子。穿的雖然是長衫，可是又臟又破，似乎十多年沒有補，也沒有洗。他對人說話，總是滿口之乎者也，教人半懂不懂的。因為他姓孔，別人便從描紅紙上的“上大人孔乙己”這半懂不懂的話里，替他取下一個綽號，叫作孔乙己�？滓壹阂坏降辏泻染频娜吮愣伎粗�，有的叫道，“孔乙己，你臉上又添上新傷疤了!”他不回答，對柜里說，“溫兩碗酒，要一碟茴香豆。” 便排出九文大錢。他們又故意的高 聲嚷道，“你一定又偷了人家的東西了!”孔乙己睜大眼睛說，“你怎么這樣憑空污人清白……“什么清白? 我前天親眼見你偷了何家的書，吊著打�！笨滓壹罕銤q紅丁臉，額上的青筋條條綻出，爭辯道，“竊書不能算偷……竊書!……讀書人的事，能算偷么?”接連便是難懂的話，什么“君子固窮”，什么“者乎”之類，引得眾人都哄笑起來：店內(nèi)外充滿了快活的空氣。
After that I stood all day behind the bar attending to my duties. Although I gave satisfaction at this post, I found it somewhat boring and monotonous. Our boss was a grim-faced man, nor were the customers much pleasanter, which made the atmosphere a gloomy one. The only times when there was any laughter were when Kong Yiji came to the tavern. That is why I remember him.
Kong Yiji was the only long-gowned customer who used to drink his wine standing. A big, pallid man whose wrinkled face often bore scars, he had a large, unkempt and grizzled beard. And although he wore a long grown it was dirty and tattered. It had not by the look of it been washed or mended for ten years or more. He used so many archaisms in his speech that half of it was barely intelligible. And as his surname was Kong, he was given the nickname Kong Yiji from kong, yi, ji, the first three characters in the old-fashioned children's copybook. Whenever he came in, everyone there would look at him and chuckle. And someone was sure to call out:
"Kong Yiji! What are those fresh scars on your face?"
Ignoring this, he would lay nine coppers on the bar and order two bowls of heated wine with a dish of aniseed-peas. Then someone else would bawl:
"You must have been stealing again!"
"Why sully a man' s good name for no reason at all?" Kong Yiji would ask, raising his eyebrows.
"Good name? Why, the day before yesterday you were trussed up and beaten for stealing books from the Ho family. I saw you!"
At that Kong Yiji would flush, the veins on his forehead standing out as he protested, "Taking books can' t be counted as stealing.... Taking books. . . for a scholar. . . can't be counted as stealing." Then followed such quotations from the classics as "A gentlemen keeps his integrity even in poverty," together with a spate of archaisms which soon had everybody roaring with laughter, enlivening the whole tavern.
