Yesterday, I travel with my father how happy ah! What happened is this: Dinner the day before yesterday, when my father was reading the newspaper. Suddenly, he was surprised and said: "I thought he died 20 years ago, not in the way! You know? My first grade teacher when the text has been 84 years old 森佐克洛塞 mention! You see, the newspaper said, a medal awarded to him by Minister . 60 years, you think of that! him two years ago are still teaching it. Poor Keluosaiti! he lived in Queensland Dover, from here take the train as long as an hour. Enrico, tomorrow we go to see him. " In addition to teachers throughout the evening which he no talk about any other. Teacher's name reminded him of his childhood memories, childhood friends, and his dead mother. "Keluosaiti!" He said cheerfully, "I am in his classroom, when he was 40 years old then. I still remember his look, his head and not high, and had never been seen on the little hump-back, two eyes very God, his beard is always blowing very clean. Although he is very serious, but it is a very good teacher, even if we have done anything wrong, he always forgive us. He is a diligent before relying on change from a farmer as a teacher. He is a good man. My mother and I respect him, and my father as a friend of his. how he would go to Tallinn, not far from Dover to the golden years Queensland it? he certainly 传奇世界私服 has not recognize me . It does not matter, I recognize him. 44 years later - 44 years, ah, Enrico! we see tomorrow him. " 9 o'clock yesterday morning, we came to the station. I originally wanted to go too gallon, but he did not come, his mother was ill. It was a beautiful spring day. Train Chiguo green fields, hedges on both sides of the flowers have opened, the air we breathe is full of flowers. Dad was interested in, he put his arm around from time to time in my neck, while gazing out the window of the wilderness, while a friend like the same to me. "Poor Keluosaiti!" He said, "Apart from my father, he loved me but for my best man. I will never forget those teachings, he told me, once reprimanded by the teacher but sadly the situation back home, still deeply imprinted in my mind. teacher's hand is very thick and teachers look, now came back. He usually always quietly into the classroom, to stick on corner, the coat hanging on a rack at any time, he was always very sincere, enthusiastically treat us, what are best, as serious as first class. I seem to hear him say to me : 'Lambertini! hold a pen with the index finger and middle finger it better! '44 years, the teacher probably changed a lot. " We got to go find out Dover Queensland dwelling elderly and soon heard the hit, because everyone here knew him. We left the market, take a flower in full bloom on both sides of the path. Father no longer speak, completely immersed in memories of the past, from time to time with a smile, shook his head from time to time. Suddenly, he stopped short and said: "Yes he! I bet it is definitely him." Path other end, a little man in the white-haired old people toward us. He was wearing a putting a big hat, a cane, walking as though he was struggling, his hands are shaking. "That's him!" Father said again, speeding up the pace. Approached him, we stopped. The old man stood still, he watched his father. Old face still red, his eyes reveal the kind of brilliant. "You are -" Dad off the hat, "Wen 森佐克洛塞 raise teacher?" Old hat also requite, said: "I am." His voice trembling, but still full. Hold the hand of the elderly father, said: "I am a teacher once taught students, 传世私服 teacher? I came here from Tallinn to see you." Old people looked at him in amazement. After a child, he said: "You're welcome. I do not know - when you are my students? Please forgive me, can you tell me your name?" Dad said his name: 阿尔柏托波 Tinni, said his school places and time. Then he said: "You do not remember me, this is natural. But I still recognize you to be!" The teacher looked down, staring at the ground, his mouth by talking about his father's name, father smiling at the teacher. Suddenly, the old raised his head, his eyes glazing over, slowly and asked: "阿尔柏托波 Tinni? Engineers Lambertini's son? Live in Kangsilata's that?" "Yes!" Father spoke out his hand. "Ah, I'm sorry!" Old people talking came up and hugged his father; his full head of white hair on the shoulder dad arrived. Dad put his face to the teacher's forehead. "Please follow me." The teacher said, turned and led us went to his home. Did not take the few minutes we came to a small courtyard in front of a small house in front. Teachers open the door, let us into his home. Small room walls are painted white and placed a corner of the room with a camp bed, bed sheets covered with blue and white box, put the one room to another corner desk and a bookcase. There are four chairs inside the wall and tacked a very old map. Small room filled with a sweet apple. We all three sat down for a moment my father and his teacher remained silent. "Lambertini!" The teacher looked at the floor of sunlight, said, "Oh! I remember the moment! Your mother is a good mother! First grade when you are sitting on the bench left by the window on. I remember you had never been seen with a long curly hair. "Then he thought a while and said:" You are a very lively little fellow, in the second grade that year, you got tonsillitis. I remember They send you back to the classroom when you are so weak, wrapped in a big scarf. 40 years later, is it? You're so fine, you can remember the poor teacher. you know? previous The students came to me a lot, which became a colonel, and has done a pastor, and some are a gentleman. "Then he asked his father now occupation. Then he said: "I am glad, from the bottom of my heart happy. Thank you. I have a very long time visitor. I'm afraid you're the last one was." "You do not say so." Dad said excitedly, "you are still healthy, you should not say that." "No, no! You see these hands yet? Tremble so, this is a bad sign. 3 years ago they had this when I was teaching it. At first I did not care, I think that would be good But then, gradually worsened up one day, I can not write. Oh! that day, the first time I work in the students drop this on a large drop of ink, I am extremely sad heart! After that they reluctantly supported period of time. can I have not qualified for the work. taught the book for 60 years, I finally had to leave my classroom, my students left, left my job. It is very difficult, you know, very difficult. I have to complete the last class when the class all students to send me home and said a lot of warm words, but I was very sad. I knew my life was over. I am a year ago lost his wife and our only son, and now I only have two grandchildren when the farmers. I live by a few pension, I can do nothing, I feel like life can not always have to like the first. I am the only One of the activities is to go looking through the past, textbooks, or re-read diary, or reading a book given to me by others, are here yet. "he said, pointing to the small bookcase," They are my memories, is All of my past, in this world I do not have something else up. " Then, his tone suddenly seemed happy together: "scare you hop it! Lambertini dear sir." He stood up, went to the desk, put the long drawer open, and there are many rolls, all with a thin rope was tied, and which was written in different years. He rummaged around for a while, then opened one volume, turned a few pages, he pulled a hair from yellow sheet of paper, handed it to Dad. This is his job 40 years ago. In the top of this page reads: "阿尔柏托波 Tinni, dictation. April 3, 1838." Dad looked at this carefully read children's handwriting paper, could not help but smile and a tear. I got up and asked him how he was. He stretched out an arm around me: "You see this page work. See that? These are my poor mother gave me change. She always put me to write the" l "and" t " That pricked stretch, all these last few lines she wrote, she would mimic my handwriting, I was tired and fell asleep, she wrote for me. " Then he kissed that page. "Look here." Teacher has come up with another bunch of years, "These are my albums. Every year I will have my every student a job, write the date and time of the order according to line up. Every time I open them this time seems to live in the past those years the. ah! more young! eyes closed as long as the one that I will also see a picture of the little face, a month of classes. Who knows How many of them have been dead too! some children I can remember, I remember most clearly is that the best and worst, give me joy and makes me sad for the students. in so many students in There will certainly be very bad! But now, I seem to have been living in another world, no matter good or bad, I love them equally. " He sat down again, holding my hand. Dad smiled and said: "Are you still remember I was the joke?"
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