The drummer's wife went to church. She saw many portraits and new shrines carved with angels. The color images on the canvas, the hidden halo and the gold-plated painted wood carvings are all very beautiful. Their hair is as bright and beautiful as gold and sunshine; But God's sunshine is more beautiful. When the sun goes down, the light it emits from the tree is brighter and redder. It is very happy to look at God's face! The drummer's wife looked at the red sun, lost in thought; She thought of the baby the stork was going to give her. So she was very happy. She looked and looked. She wants her children to get glory from here, at least like angels on the altar wall. When she really put her arms around the child and held him in front of his father, the child really looked like an angel in the church. His hair is as bright as gold, and Hui Jin in the sunset falls in his hair.

"My, my wealth, my sun!" Mother said and kissed his shiny curly hair. Her kiss was like music and singing in the drummer's room. The room is full of joy, anger and busyness. Drummers play drums, happy drums. The fire alarm drum sounded:

"Red hair, red hair kid! Trust me, don't trust your mother! Knock, knock, rumble! Hey! "

The whole city is talking about fire alarm.

The little boy went to church to be baptized. There's nothing to say about names. He was named Peter. The whole city, including drums, called him Peter, "the drummer's red-haired son"; But his mother kissed his red hair and called him.

On rugged roads and slopes, many people carve their names as souvenirs.

"Make yourself famous," said the salesman. "It is always a big deal to make a name for yourself!" So he carved his name and the name of his youngest son.

Here comes the swallow. During the long journey, they saw more durable words engraved on the wall of Hindustan temple on the cliff: the great achievements of the powerful emperor and the immortal name. They are so old that no one can recognize them now, and I don't know their names.

But fame is far-reaching! Formidable

Swallows nest on the rugged cliff edge and peck holes on the soil slope. The wind, frost, rain and dew washed away the names, and so did the names of the drummers and their sons.

"But Peter's name stayed there for a year and a half after all!" Father said. "Stupid guy!" The fire drum thinks so, but it just says, "Knock, knock, knock! Hey! "

The drummer's red-haired son is a lively little boy. He has a beautiful voice. He can sing. He sings like a bird in the forest. It seems to be something, but it is nothing.

"He should join the choir!" Mother said, "Sing in the church and stand under those gilded angels who look as beautiful as him!" " "

"Red-haired cat!" ChengTou melon seeds smart man said. Drum heard it from the woman next door.

"Peter, don't go back!" Cried the children playing in the street. "If you sleep in the attic, the attic will catch fire and the fire alarm drum will ring."

"Watch out for the drumsticks!" Peter said. Young as he is, he is brave. He punched the nearest child in the stomach, and the child could not stand still and fell down. The other children crossed their legs and ran away.

The musician in this city is a decent and elegant person. He is the son of the royal man in charge of silverware. He likes Peter. Take him home and stay alone for a few hours. He gave him a violin and taught him to play it, just as Peter was born with ten musical fingers. He will certainly be more than a drummer in the future. He will become an urban musician.

"I want to be a soldier!" Peter said. Because he is just a nobody, he thinks that the best thing in the world is to carry a gun, walk "1212", wear a uniform and carry a broadsword.

"You have to learn to listen to drums! Boom, coming, coming! " The drums said. "Yes, he can be promoted step by step and become a general!" Father said; "But you must fight!"