love education

Chapter 22 February (4)
The father hugged his son, looked at him affectionately, kissed his forehead again, and then left.So the boy returned to his post once more, at the bedside of the sick man, who also seemed to be comforted.Cicero begins to play the nurse again, he has stopped crying, but his eagerness and patience are the same as before.He still feeds the patient medicine, puts on his hospital gown for him, touches his hands gently, speaks to him in a soft whisper, and keeps encouraging him to be brave.He still took care of him so carefully, during the day and at night.And he still stayed by his bedside the next day, but the patient's condition got worse, his face turned purple, his breathing became heavier and heavier, his spirit was often unstable, and his mouth He was always talking indistinctly, and his illness became more serious.During the night visit, the doctor told the boy: This patient will not survive tonight, but Cicero is more concerned about the patient's body, and his eyes do not leave the patient for more than 1 minute.The patient was always looking at him, looking at him again and again, opening his lips with difficulty from time to time, as if he was always trying to say something, and an unparalleled tenderness flashed in his eyes from time to time. The light, and after the light flashed, the eyes would become smaller again, and the eyes would become dull.

That very night, the boy stayed up all night, keeping an eye on the patient until the first rays of morning light came through the window.Then the nun appeared, walked to the patient's bedside, cast a quick glance at him, and hurried away.After a while, she appeared with the assistant doctor and a nurse carrying a lantern. "I'm afraid he has his last breath now," said the doctor.The man grabbed the boy's hand, stared at the boy, and then closed his eyes again.At that moment, the boy seemed to feel the patient's hand shaking firmly. "He's holding my hand!" he cried.

The doctor leaned over the patient again to examine, and after a while straightened up again, the nun took the cross from the wall and said, "He is dead!" "Come on, my good boy," said the doctor, "what to do , you have done it all, go back, may the god of luck favor you, because you are worthy of his favor, God will take care of you, goodbye!"

The nun came back after walking away for a while, and took a small bouquet of violets in a glass vase on the window sill to give to the boy, and said to him:

"I have nothing to give you, just accept this, so you can remember our hospital."

"Thank you," replied the boy, who took the bouquet with one hand and wiped his tears with the other, "but I'll have a long walk home, and I'm afraid I'll spoil them all."

He crushed the petals and scattered them on the hospital bed, saying:

"I dedicate these flowers to the poor dead man. Thank you, Sister, and thank you, Doctor!"

Then, he turned to face the poor man and said, "Farewell!"

When he was thinking about what to call the dead man, suddenly, the name that had been with him for five days slipped out of his mouth, "Farewell, my poor father!"

After saying this, he took his small bundle of clothes, tucked it under his arm, and left the hospital exhausted and slowly, and it was dawn at this time.

factory
Saturday 18th

Pricos came to tell me last night and reminded me to go and see his factory, which is at the end of the street.I visited with my father this morning and wanted to stay there for a while.As we walked towards the factory, Garofi ran out of there with a package in his hand and a large cloak wrapped in his hands to cover his stuff, looking like he was about to take flight.oh!I now know where he got those filings, which he sells to a used newspaper dealer, one of Garofi's trading partners.When we got to the front door, Prikos was sitting on a small pile of bricks, concentrating on his homework, with the book straight on his lap.

When he saw us, he got up quickly and led us into his factory, which was a huge place, covered with coal dust, with standing hammers, tongs, iron bars, and various types of Old ironware.In one corner a stove was burning brightly, with a bellows on it, and a boy was pulling the bellows.Prikos and his father were standing by the fire. At this time, a young man was holding an iron rod to burn in the fire. "Ah, that's him."

As soon as the blacksmith saw us, he said, waving his hat at us, "This is the boy who gave my son the train. He's come to see how I work, hasn't he? I'll be back with you later."

He kept smiling at us as he said this, and his face was not as scary as before, nor was his eyes so malevolent.The young man handed him a long iron rod that was already glowing at one end, and the blacksmith set it on an anvil and tried to bend the rod to make a ring for the railing on the balcony.He raised a large hammer and struck the heated end of the rod, here and there, so that the different parts were evenly stressed.And watching that iron rod bend a little bit under the quick and precise blow of the hammer is a wonderful thing.The iron rod rolled up, slowly showing a graceful curve, like a leaf just picked from a flower, as easy as kneading a piece of dough with your hands.Meanwhile, his son looked at us with proud eyes, as if to say, "Look at my father's job!"

"Do you see how it's done, little gentleman?"

The blacksmith asked me that after he had cast this piece, he held up the iron, which looked like a bishop's scepter, and then he put the iron aside, and put another one into the fire. .

"Your craftsmanship is really good!"

My father said to the blacksmith, and he added, "So you're back to work, aren't you? Life's back to normal now, isn't it?"

"Yes, I'm on the right track." The blacksmith replied, gently wiped the sweat from his face, and blushed slightly, "Do you know who made me start a new life?"

My father pretended not to know anything.

"That's the brave boy."

The blacksmith said, pointing to his son with his own finger, "A good boy with integrity, he studies hard for his father, but his father squanders his life recklessly, and treats him like a dog. When I see that medal—oh, my little boy, it's not as big as a copper piece of cheese, come here, and let me have a good look at your face!"

The boy ran to his father at once, and the blacksmith picked him up, put him directly on the anvil, put his arms around him and said, "Wipe the face of this big monster, father, well." !"

So Prikos kissed his father's face till his own face turned black. "That's right!" said the blacksmith, setting his son down on the ground again. "Yes, Pricus, that's right!"

My father also cheered.After we said goodbye to the blacksmith and his son, my father led me out the door."Wait!" said Pricos to us, and stuffed a little bag of nails into my pocket.And I invited him to my house and we watched the carnival together.

"You gave him your little train," my father said to me as we walked down the street, "even though the little train was made of gold and filled with pearls, for that virtuous boy It was a small gift, to say the least, because he made his own father a man again."

circus clown
Monday 20th
The whole city is noisy and restless because of this carnival, and at this time, the carnival is coming to an end, there are countless small stalls in every square, there are many charlatans, under the window of our house is a There was a circus tent, and a party from Venice, with five horses, was performing there.The circus is right in the middle of the square, and in one corner of the square, there are three big covered wagons with wheels where the jugglers sleep and make up, Every car has a chimney, and there is always smoke coming out of the chimney.Between the windows, diapers and stuff were hanging out, and a woman was nursing a baby, and she was also responsible for preparing food for others, and performing tightrope walks.

Those poor people! The title of "street performer" is simply an insult to them. They are bringing joy to people all over the world. They earn money by their honest labor.And how they work!They have been running back and forth between the circus tent and the truck from morning to night. Even in this cold weather, they have to wear tights, and they can only take a little time between performances to stand there. He hurriedly put a few mouthfuls of rice into his mouth.Sometimes, they just filled up the tents, but the wind blows, the ropes tremble, and the lights are blown out. If this is the case, then we can only say goodbye to the show.They had to refund all the money to the audience, and spent the whole night repairing the tents that were damaged by the wind.

There were two teenagers who worked in the circus and my father recognized the youngest of them as he walked across the square - the son of the circus master, last year Imanuel was performing on horseback The acrobatic one.He had grown up, he must be eight years old now, and he was a handsome boy with a round face and black curly hair so thick that it kept poking out from under that little pointed hat.He was dressed as a clown and was fitted in a loose dress with white sleeves trimmed with black patterns. He wore a pair of cotton slippers under his feet.

He's a jovial little guy who everyone loves and who wants to try everything.We also saw him this morning, wrapped in a shawl, taking the milk back to his log house, after which he went to fetch the horses from the inn, which is situated on Putra, where he will The petite baby was held in his arms, and he helped others transport hoops, scaffolding, cross-rail handrails, and ropes.He also washed the truck, lit the fire, and walked around with his mother in his spare time.My father was always looking out the window and talking about his family, they were good people and they loved the children very much.

We went to the circus one night, it was cold and there weren't many people in the circus, but the little clown was doing his best to keep the few guests entertained, he would pretend He didn't stand still, as if he was going to fall, he would boldly grab the pony's tail, he would stand on one leg in mid-air, he could sing, and that handsome, light brown little face On, with a smile from beginning to end.His father was wearing a red vest, white trousers, and a pair of boots, and was watching him with a whip in his hand.But his expression was so melancholy that my father sympathized with them.

The next day, when the painter Dai Lisi came to our house as a guest, my father also mentioned the circus master to him.The health of these poor people is being worn away by the hard work, and their business is going from bad to worse.My father said he liked that boy so much, what could they do for these poor people?The painter came up with a good idea, "Then submit an article to the Gazette," he said, "Your pen skills are good, then write about the incredible things that clown did, I will Will draw a portrait of him for you. Everyone will read the communiqué, and there will certainly be a lot of people to see it."

So, they did as they had agreed, and my father wrote a pretty good article, with a humorous style, and told all the interesting things my father saw from the window, which made everyone feel happy. People wanted to see the child's stunts, and it filled people with sympathy for the child.And the artist drew a beautiful portrait of the child, which looked so much like the child himself, that the bulletin came out on Saturday night.

Oh look!How many people went to the circus to see their performance during the Sunday performance. The slogan reads: The clown's performance is the same as its name in the bulletin.The circus was densely packed with people, and many people came here because they saw the article in the bulletin they were holding in their hands.They showed the papers to the Clown, and he laughed and ran from one side to the other in a very good mood.The circus master was very happy, he just couldn't understand one thing, no newspaper had ever praised him like this before, and now, the money box was full.

It was in that crowd that we found acquaintances, right at the exit of those horses stood our physical education teacher, the same man who had served under Garibaldi, and in the second row opposite us sat the little mason, He showed his little round face, and next to him was his father, who was as tall as a giant.As soon as he saw me, he made a face at me, and looking farther away, I also saw Garofi, who was counting the number of spectators and wringing his fingers to calculate the profit of the circus this time. How much.In the first row on our side, not far from us, sat poor Robert, the boy who rescued the child from under the wagon, with his cane between his legs, leaning against his father, the The artillery captain, he put a hand on his son's shoulder.

The show started, the clown did a series of difficult moves, he performed on a horse, he performed on a swing, he performed on a tight rope, every time he successfully jumped off, everyone applauded him , many of whom tugged at his curls affectionately, was followed by several performers - including a rope performer, magician and jockey - all performing their specialties in shimmering silver leotards.But when the boy wasn't on stage, the audience looked tired.

I accidentally saw our physical education teacher, who was guarding the entrance of the horses. He didn’t know what he said to the head of the circus. The head immediately looked around, as if looking for someone. Soon, his His eyes stopped on us.My father understood the meaning of that look. The teacher must have told him the truth—my father was the author of that article. In order to avoid thanking the group leader, my father left in a hurry. He said to me:
(End of this chapter)