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克里斯托弗没有兄弟姐妹，他通常都是自己一个人玩儿。秋季里的某一天，他得到了一个新球，于是他就跑到花园里去玩球。
“我要把我的球直接抛到天上去，”他大声说道。
但是他的球没有飞到天上，而是飞到一棵枫树里去了。克里斯托弗抬头一看，发现有根树枝上坐着一个陌生的男孩儿，手里正拿着他的球。
“请你把球扔下来，好吗？”克里斯托弗说。
“你上来拿吧，”男孩儿说。
“我上不去啊，”克里斯托弗说道。
“试试呗，”男孩儿说。“你可以做到的。”
而且，克里斯托弗真的做到了。
Christopher had no brothers or sisters. He usually played on his own. One autumn day, he was given a new ball and he ran into the garden to play with it.
“I’m going to throw my ball right up into the sky,” he cried.
But the ball flew up into the maple tree instead. Christopher looked up and there was a strange boy sitting on a branch with the ball in his hand.
“Throw it down, please, will you,” said Christopher.
“You come up and fetch it,” said the boy.
“I can’t,” said Christopher.
“Try,” said the boy. “You’ll manage.”
And Christopher did.
很快他就两腿叉开坐在了那根树枝上，面对着那个男孩儿。男孩儿开始用芦苇笛吹起了一支乐曲。
“你吹得真好，”克里斯托弗说。
“你真的这么认为？”男孩儿微笑着说。
“你是从哪儿来的啊？”克里斯托弗问道。
“从北方到南方，
我一路上快乐飞扬。
整个辽阔无垠的世界，
都是我劳作和嬉戏的封疆。”
男孩儿唱道。
“你的父母不住在这儿吗？”克里斯托弗说。
“我的父亲冷酷又严厉，
他与北风是亲戚；
我的母亲是绣线菊，
面色红润，步态轻逸。”
男孩儿唱道。
Soon he was sitting astride the branch, facing the boy. The boy started to play a tune on a reed-pipe.
“You do play well,” said Christopher.
“Do you think so?” said the boy, smiling.
“Where do you come from?” asked Christopher.
“From north to south，
I make my merry way.
The whole wide world
is mine for work and play,”
sang the boy.
“Don’t your mother and father live here?” said Christopher.
“My father is cold and stern,
his kin the northern winds;
my mother is meadow-sweet,
rosy-cheeked and swift of feet.”
sang the boy.
“我是我父亲的儿子，”男孩儿继续说道，“但是我黏着我的母亲，也和太阳保持着关系。”
“你说的话我一句也听不懂，”克里斯托弗说。
“那猜一猜我叫什么名字吧，”男孩儿说。
“我猜不出来，”克里斯托弗说。
“我的名字叫九月，”男孩儿说。
“求求你了，九月，”克里斯托弗说，“我能拿回我的球吗？”
“如果你可以，就去找到它吧，”九月高声叫道，同时把球扔出去，正好越过克里斯托弗的头顶，然后掉进了醋栗丛中。
然后，他笑着从树上跳了下去，克里斯托弗也跟着他从树上滑了下来。
“I’m the son of my father,” the boy went on, “and I cling to my mother to keep with the sun.”
“I don’t understand a word you’re saying,” said Christopher.
“Guess what my name is,” said the boy.
“I can’t,” said Christopher.
“My name is September,” said the boy.
“Please, September,” said Christopher, “can I have my ball back?”
“Find it if you can,” cried September, and he threw the ball right over Christopher’s head and into the gooseberry bushes.
Then he leapt down laughing from the tree and Christopher slid down after him.