love education

Chapter 12 December (2)
He walked into the dining room, glanced briefly at the surrounding furniture, and then locked his eyes on a small photo.It was a picture of Rigreto, a hunchbacked clown.Little Mason watched him make a rabbit face, and it was hard not to laugh when people saw him make that face.

We used some broken pieces of wood as building blocks, and his technique was amazing. I don't know how those bridges and castles stood up in his hands, as if by magic.He is so serious in his work, as meticulous and patient as a grown-up.He was finishing one castle and was about to start building another, and told me a story about his family:
The family lived in an attic on the top floor, his father went to night school every night to learn how to read and write, and his mother was a washerwoman.They must have loved him very much, for though his clothes were poor indeed, they were warm.The suits were neatly and skillfully sewn, and his tie was tied with the delicate hand of his mother.He also talked about his father—he was too big, and it was always difficult to pass through the narrow door, but he was very nice, and he always called his son "rabbit face", and his son and He doesn't look alike at all, but he's much thinner.

About four o'clock we began to eat, bread and feta cheese for lunch.For some reason, whenever we sat on the couch, or got up from it, my father wouldn't let me brush the back of the couch, which had been stained white by the little mason's jacket.My father always blocked my hands on purpose, and then secretly wiped off those white marks.

While we were playing, the little mason lost a button on his jacket, and my mother sewed it on for him, and his face became red, and all the while she sewed the buttons on him, he kept looking at her, and he He held his breath, full of surprise and bewilderment.

After that, we gave him a few comic books to read. Maybe he didn’t realize that when he read these comics, he couldn’t help imitating all kinds of funny faces in the comics. He imitated so much that my father couldn’t bear it. Live happily.

He was so happy to leave our house that he forgot to put on his battered little hat.When we got to the dock, he made that rabbit face at me again to let us know how grateful he was.His name is Anthony Rabbock, and he is eight years and eight months old this year.

do you know?My boy, why don't I want you to wipe down that couch?Because wiping the couch in front of your partner is tantamount to reprimanding him for messing something up.And that's not right, first, he didn't do it on purpose; second, he was wearing his father's clothes, and his father had worked so hard to get those plaster casts on, if it was at work, no matter Plaster, dust, lime, paint, it's not dirt, it's not dirt, labor doesn't make dirt, never say a worker who just got back from work has dirty clothes, what you should say is, "His clothes left his Signs and traces of hard work."

Mark my words, and you must love the little mason, first because he is your dear companion, and second because he is a laborer's boy.

your father
a snowball

Friday the 16th

It has been snowing for the past few days.As we were leaving school this morning, an unglamorous snow-related event happened:
As soon as a large group of boys set foot on Khao Sok Street, they began to smash each other with icy snowballs, and those snowballs were tightly defended, as hard as stones.At this time, there were many pedestrians on the sidewalk, and a gentleman shouted: "Stop, you little rascals!" At that moment, a piercing scream came from the other side of the road, and an old man was seen He even took off his hat, covered his face with his hands, and stood there staggeringly.A boy beside the old man shouted, "Help, help!"

People immediately surrounded him from all directions. The old man was hit in the eye by a snowball. At this moment, all the children ran away like arrows.I was standing at the door of a bookstore, and my father had just entered.I saw a few friends rushing over, mingling with a few people around me, and pretending to be looking at things in the window, there was Galen, he put his penny ring in it as usual in his pocket; and Cletti, the little mason; and Garofy, who still had his stamps in his hand.

At the same time, many people surrounded the old man. A policeman and several people were busy back and forth, shouting threateningly:

"Who is this? Who did it? Is it you? Tell me who did it?" They also checked which of the boys had snow wet hands.

Garofi was standing beside me, and I could feel his whole body trembling slightly, and his face was as pale as a dead man's.

"Who? Who did it?" People kept asking.Afterwards, I was surprised to hear Galen whisper to Garofi:
"Quickly, turn yourself in! If someone else gets caught, you're a coward."

"But I didn't mean to," Garofi replied, shaking like a leaf in the wind.

"No matter what, you should do your duty." Galen said again.

"But, I dare not."

"Don't be afraid, well, I'll go with you."

At this time, the police and others shouted more fiercely:

"Who the hell? Who did this? His glasses fell out of his eyes, and he's blinded, you villains!" I was afraid Garofy would fall to the ground in shock.

"Come on," said Galen firmly, "I'll put in a good word for you." He took Garofi's arm and pushed him forward, holding him like a sick man.When the people saw them, they understood the whole thing at once, and several of them raised their fists, but Galen stood between them and cried:

"Could it be possible that you want ten people to bully a child?" After that, people stopped being aggressive.The police grabbed Garofi's hand and led him forward. As they walked, they separated the crowd and came to a pastry shop, where the injured old man was carried just now.It was only when I saw the old man that I realized that he was an old employee who lived on the fourth floor of our house with his nephew.He was stretched out on a chair, a handkerchief covering his eyes. "I didn't do it on purpose!" Garofi cried, he was already scared to death. "I really didn't mean to!"

Two or three men pushed him violently into the shop and shouted at him:
"Kneel down to the old man, you have to ask him to forgive you!" They pushed him to the ground, but immediately two strong arms pulled him up again, and a voice said firmly:

"No, gentlemen," it was our class teacher, who saw all this, "since he has the courage to stand up and admit his mistakes," he added, "no one has the right to insult his personality." Everyone stood there silently without speaking. "You have to ask for his forgiveness," the class teacher said to Garofi, who suddenly burst into tears, hugged the old man's knees, and the old man's hands touched the boy's head, stroking him gently s hair.All said:

"Come on, kid, go, go home!"

At this point, my father pulled me out of the crowd.As we were walking down the street, he said to me: "Enrico, if it were you, faced with the same situation, would you be brave enough to stand up, do your duty, admit the mistakes you made? ’ I told my father I would, and he went on to say, ‘So, as a loving and honest teenager, you promise me that what you say is true!’”

"Yes, I assure you, my dear father!"

female teachers
Saturday 17th

Garofi was really terrified today, because he always thought that he would be severely punished by the teacher, but the head teacher did not show up today, and his teaching assistant disappeared for no reason.Mrs. Cromy, the oldest of the school's governesses, came to take her place for a while.

She had two grown children, and she taught reading and writing to the women who now regularly accompany their sons at the Balletti School.Mrs. Cromey was in a bad mood today, for one of her sons was ill, and as soon as the schoolmates saw her they began to shout loudly, but she said in a slow, calm voice: "Please respect my This gray hair, because I am not only a teacher, but also a mother." Her words were so flat but so powerful that no one dared to say another word, except Franti, who was still brazenly mocking Chromie secretly. Mrs. Outside.

Mrs. Del Caddy was sent to take over Mrs. Cromy's class, and the teacher, known as "Little Nun," was sent to take over Mrs. Del Caddy's class.Others call her "little nun" because she often wears black clothes and a black apron. Her little face is white, her hair is always soft, her eyes are bright, and her voice is very clear. She seems to be Always muttering her scriptures.I really find it hard to believe that my mother would always comment on her like this: she is so gentle and shy, her voice is as thin as a mosquito, always so calm, she never speaks loudly, and it is difficult for others to hear her clearly What she says, and she never gets emotional, yet manages to make the students in her class so quiet that you can't hear them whispering at all.Even the most naughty children would bow their heads in submission as she tapped her fingers to persuade them.For her, school was like a church, and it was for these reasons that she was called "little nun."

There is another female teacher I also like very much, that is the young head teacher of the second grade small class.She had a face as ruddy as a rose, with two pretty dimples in it, and a big red feather in a little bonnet on her head, and a little string of yellow glass beads around her neck.She is always in good spirits, and the students in her class are all alive and well.Whenever she called her students, she would tap the podium with a thin pointer, or clap her hands to keep the students quiet. Her voice was always as clear and melodious as a silver bell, as if she was singing.

Whenever the students walked out of the school, she would chase after them like a child, so that they could be caught one by one and lined up.As soon as she helped one child pull up his trousers, she was about to button another child so they wouldn't catch a cold; she would even chase the children down the street so they wouldn't quarrel; she would plead with the parents bitterly Ladies, don't come home and whip the poor little ones; and bring cough syrup for the coughing ones; she'll give her leather gloves to the ones with cold hands; The torment of the youngest children, they would either touch the teacher or ask the teacher to kiss them, they would pull her veil, or her cape, but she always let them do what she wanted and always kissed them with a smile on her face everyone.

Every time she came home, her clothes were always wrinkled, and there was no covering on her neck. She was panting heavily, but she still wore her hat with a red feather and two dimples on her head. Smile happily.She is also an art teacher at a girls' school and supports her mother and a younger brother on her own.

injured old man's home

Saturday 18th

The nephew of the old man whose eyes were injured by Garofi's snowball is in the class of the female teacher with the red feather in the hat. We saw him at the old man's house today. The old man treats him like his own son. .

I had just finished copying out the next week's monthly story, called "Little Florentine Scribe," when my father said to me, "Let's go up to the fourth floor and see what happened to the old gentleman's eyes."

We walked into a room, the light inside was extremely dark, the old man was sitting on the bed, with a lot of pillows on his back, his wife was sitting on the edge of the bed, and his nephew was looking after himself in a corner Playing freely.The old man had a bandage over his eye and he was happy to see my dad and sat us down and said he had recovered a lot and not only was his eye not ruined it would be back in a few days. "It was only an accident," he added, "and I regret that I gave that child such a fright."

Later, he told us about his doctor, saying that he really wanted the doctor to be by his side all the time and take good care of himself.While talking, the doorbell rang. "It must be the doctor," said his wife.

The door opened and guess who I saw?It was Garofe, standing in the doorway in his long cloak, with his head bowed, not daring to come in.

"Who is it?" asked the sick man.

"It's the boy who threw the snowball," my father replied.

"Oh, my poor boy," said the old gentleman again, "come here quickly, and you have come to see me, the wounded man, have you not? But I am quite well now, so take it easy, my boy." , I'm much better, almost cured, come here, come to me."

(End of this chapter)