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Chapter 13 Part 1 Chapter 1 Brooklyn (5)

tree in brooklyn 贝蒂·史密斯 1219Words 2018-03-21
"I guess that's why Jews like having babies," thought Francie, "and why they sit so quietly...waiting. And why they're not ashamed of being fat. Everyone thinks they Maybe a real baby Jesus. No wonder they walk the way they walk. Irish girls seem ashamed by comparison. They know they'll never give birth to a Jesus. What they make is just a baby Jesus. Here comes Mick's baby. When I'm grown up and pregnant, I'm going to walk proudly and slowly, even though I'm not Jewish." It was twelve o'clock when Francie got home.Soon, my mother came in with a broom and bucket, and threw them into the corner with a bang.The bang meant she wasn't going to touch the stuff again until Monday.

My mother was twenty-nine, black hair, brown eyes, quick hands and feet, and a good figure.She worked as a janitor and kept three rental apartments spick and span.Who would believe that mother would support the four of them by cleaning the floor?She was always so pretty and slender and cheerful and always beaming.Her hands were always red and cracked from soaking in soda water, but they were still beautiful, and they were still beautifully shaped, with lovely curved and oval nails.Everyone said it was a shame that a woman as beautiful as Katie Nolan went out to mop floors.But they said, what if you marry a husband like her?They also admitted that, by any measure, Johnny Nolan was a good-looking, likable guy, better than any man on the block.But he was an alcoholic after all.That's what they say, and it's true.

Let her mother watch as Francie put the eight cents into the tin piggy bank.They spent a good five minutes guessing how much money was in the little piggy bank.Francie thought it must be a hundred dollars.Mom said about eight dollars was closer. Mom then told Francie to buy lunch. "Take an eightcent out of the gapped cup and buy a quarter of kosher rye bread, fresh. Then take a nickel and go to Solwin's and buy a tongue for a nickel." "But only related households can buy it." "Just tell him your mother said it," Katie said firmly.She thought again. "I wonder if we should buy nickels or just keep the money in the piggy bank."

"Come on, Mom, it's Saturday. You've been saying all week we'll have dessert on Saturday." "Well, let's get some sweet rolls then." This small Jewish deli is packed with Christians who come to buy kosher brown bread.As she watched, the store staff packed a quarter of her bread into a paper bag.The crust of this bread is crisp and tender, and the bottom is pink.If fresh, Francie thought, the bread would easily be voted the best bread in the world.Reluctantly, she walked into Solwin's shop.Buy tongue here, sometimes he is easy to talk, sometimes not.Sliced ​​tongues sold for seventy-five cents a pound, and rich people could afford them.But when the tongues are sold out, sometimes you can buy the root of the tongue for five cents, but it depends on your relationship with Mr. Solwain.Of course, there is very little tongue meat at the base of the tongue, mainly soft, small bones, and some cartilage tissue, which can barely be reminiscent of meat.

It so happened that Mr. Solwain was easy to talk to today. "They sold out of tongues yesterday," he told Francie, "but I saved this for you because I know your mother likes tongues and I like your mother. You've got to tell her about that. Hear that?" "Yes, sir," Francie whispered.She kept her eyes on the floor and felt her face burn.She hated Mr. Solwin and wouldn't tell her mother what he said.
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