Chapter 2 Chapter One Helps Wash Your Hair

"Emil," said Frau Tischbein, "bring me the kettle!" She herself carried another kettle and a small blue pot with chamomile soap, and went from the kitchen into the house.Emil followed her mother with the kettle in hand. In the room sat a woman, bent over, with her head lowered over a white washbasin, her hair hanging like three pounds of wool hanging upside down.Emile's mother poured some chamomile soap on her blond hair and began to wash her hair until it was lathered all over. "Is the water not too hot?" she asked. "No, just right," replied the man with his head down.

"Oh, isn't this Mrs. Wirth the baker? Hello!" Emil said, stuffing the kettle under the washstand. "Emile, you are really lucky. I heard that you are going to Berlin." Mrs. Wirth said.It sounded like she was speaking through frothy cream. "He didn't want to go," said Ma, as she washed Mrs. Baker's hair. "But why let the kid spend the holidays here? He's never been to Berlin. My sister Martha keeps asking us to go. Her husband works in the back office at the post office and earns a lot of money. Of course, I Can't go with Emil. There's a lot going on before the holidays. You see, he's not young anymore, just be careful on the road. Besides, my mother is picking him up at the Friedrichstraße train station. They're at Meet at the flower booth."

"Emile will love Berlin, it's a great place for children to play. We went there a year and a half ago with the Skittles Club. It's very lively! There's really a boulevard there, and it's as light at night as it is by day. There are so many cars!" Mrs. Wirth was washing her hair with her head bowed, and her voice came from the bottom of the washbasin. "Are there a lot of foreign cars there?" Emil asked. "How should I know that?" said Mrs. Werther, and sneezed, for the suds got up her nose. "Hey, hurry up and tidy up," mother urged Emil. "I put your going-out clothes in the bedroom. Put it on, and we'll have dinner right after I finish Mrs. Wirth's hair." "Which shirt are you wearing?" asked Emile. road.

"It's all in bed. Be careful with your socks. You take a good shower first. Tie new shoelaces. hurry up! " "Oh!" Emil left unhappy after saying that. When Mrs. Wirth finished her beautiful curly hair, looked in the mirror, and left quite satisfied, mother came to the bedroom and saw Emil walking up and down the room unhappy. "Can you tell me who invented this kind of clothes for going out?" "Sorry, I don't know. Why are you asking that?" "Give me the address, and I'll kill this guy." "Oh, you are looking for trouble! The other children are worrying about not having good clothes to wear when they go out. Everyone has their own troubles... There is something I almost forgot: you asked Aunt Marta for a hanger tonight, Hang up your clothes properly. Don’t forget to brush them clean before hanging them up! Put on your usual sweater tomorrow. What’s the matter? The boxes are already packed. The flowers for my aunt are also packed All right. I'll give you the money for grandma later. Well, let's eat now. Young man, please come!"

After speaking, Frau Tischbein put her arm on Emil's shoulders and led him into the kitchen. Today I had macaroni topped with ham and cheese, and Emile devoured it.He just stopped occasionally to look up at his mother, as if he was worried that his mother would blame him, and his appetite was still so good before he left. "Write a postcard as soon as I arrive. I've put the postcard for you. It's in the box, on top." "I'll write it," said Emil, quietly throwing away a noodle that had fallen on his lap.Luckily my mother didn't see it. "Say hello to them all for me. You have to be careful. Berlin is not like our new city.

You and Uncle Robert go to the Kaiser Friedrich Museum on Sunday, and you must behave yourself, and don't let people say that our people are not sensible. " "I assure you," Emil said. After dinner, they went back to the house.Mom took out a small iron box from the cabinet and counted the money in it. After counting, she shook her head and counted again.Then she asked, "Well, who was here yesterday afternoon?" "Miss Thomas," said Emile, "and Mrs. Humboldt." "Yes, but the amount is not right." She thought for a while, found out the bill, and said, "Eight marks are missing."

"The man who read the gas meter came this morning." "That's right! Oh, that's right, it's a pity that there are eight more Marks missing in the family." After finishing speaking, my mother whistled, probably to relieve her worries just now.She took out three banknotes from the small iron box. "Look, Emil! It's a hundred and forty marks. One is a hundred marks, two are twenty marks. Give grandma the hundred and twenty marks and tell her that I didn't give it to her last time." Send money, tell her not to be angry, I was too tight at that time. This time, you will bring it to grandma yourself, give a little more than usual, and kiss her for me. Do you know? You will keep the remaining twenty marks Wait, I will buy a train ticket when you come back. The ticket is about ten marks, and I can’t tell you the exact amount. If you save any more money, you can buy something for yourself when you go out. Anyway, put a few in your pocket A piece of money, usually not used, just in case, is always good. Are you right? This is the envelope that Aunt Marta wrote to me, and I put the money in it. Be careful, don't lose it Le: Where do you want to put this envelope?"

Mother put the three bills in an envelope that was open at one end, tore it open, and handed it to Emil. After thinking for a while, Emil stuffed the envelope into the right inner pocket of his coat until it bottomed out.But he was still worried, and patted the blue shirt from the outside again, and then he said with confidence, "It can't get out now." "Don't tell the people in the car that you have so much money around you!" "Mom!" Emil was very upset.How could mother have thought that he could do such a stupid thing! Frau Tischbein put some money in her purse.Then put the small iron box back in the cabinet.

She quickly read through the letter her sister sent her from Berlin with the exact departure time and arrival time of the train that Emil was going to take... Some of you, my friends, must think that for this One hundred and forty marks, and Mrs. Tischbein, the barber, doesn't have to talk to her son for so long. If someone earns two thousand or twenty thousand or even one hundred thousand marks a month, there is no need for him to do this.But -- in case you don't know, I can tell you -- most people make very, very little money.Anyone who earns only thirty-five marks a week has to—whether you like it or not—consider the one hundred and forty marks saved as a lot of money.For many people, a hundred marks is like a million marks, that is, they have to write a hundred marks as a "1" followed by six "0".How much a million is, I'm afraid they can't even imagine it in their dreams.

Emile's father died long ago.So his mother has to work, cut people's hair at home, wash Wash those blonde hair, brown hair.In order for them to have food to eat, to be able to afford rent, water and electricity, as well as to buy books and pay tuition fees, she always worked tirelessly.Sometimes when she was sick, she would lie in bed and ask the doctor to prescribe some medicine for her.Emil puts warm compresses on her mother and cooks for her and herself in the kitchen. He even mopped the floor with a damp rag when she fell asleep, so she wouldn't have to say, "I've got to get up, the house is so filthy."

Children, would you understand if I told you now that Emile was a model child?You don't think it's funny, do you?You see how much he loves his mother.He would have been ashamed to see his mother working non-stop all day long if he had only been lazy.So how could he not do his homework well?How can you copy someone else's homework?How could he play truant if he was allowed to play truant?He saw that his mother tried every means so that he could also get what other classmates had.Under such circumstances, how could he deceive his mother and add to her troubles? ! Emile was a model child, a real model child.There is a kind of child who can only be called a model child, because they are timid and miserly; they talk and act like little grown-ups.And Emil was not that kind of kid.He is a model child, because he is determined to be a real model child! He had made up his mind, like other children, that he would never go to the movies or eat candy.He made up his mind, but it was not so easy for him to do so. When he comes home at Easter, he can say, "Mom, here's the report card, and I'm first in class again!"No matter in school or elsewhere, he always likes to listen to other people's compliments, not for himself, but to make his mother happy.For him, his mother has worked so hard all her life, and now he can repay his mother's heart with his own actions, and he feels very proud. "Alas," cried Mother, "we must be at the station. It's a quarter past one. The train's leaving before two." "Let's go, Frau Tischbein!" said Emil to his mother. "Mother, let me carry the suitcase myself." ①Model children (Musterknabe) are often derogatory in German.