Traduceti textul:
What s the matter,Shatz?
I ve got a headache.
You d better go back to bed.
No, I m all right.
You go to bed.I ll see you when I m dressed.
But when I came downstairs he was dressed, sitting by the fire, looking a very sick and miserable boy og nine years.When I put my hand on his forehead I knew he had a fever.
You go up to bed,I said, you re sick.
I m all right, he said.
When the doctor came he took the boy s temperature.
What is it?I asked him.
One hundred and two.
Downstairs, the doctor left three different medicines in different coloured capsules with instruction for giving them.
I went up to him and found him white-faced, but with red cheeks.I took his temperature.
What is it?
Something like a hundred, I said.It was one hundred and two and four tenths.
It was a hundred and two, he said.
Who said so?
The doctor.
Your temperature is all right,I said.It s nothing to worry about.Take this with water.
Do you think it will do any good?
Of course it will.
I sat down and opened the Pirate book and began to read, but I could see he was not following, so I stopped.
About what time do you think I m going to die?he asked.
What?
About how long will it be before I die?
You aren t going to die.What s the matter with you?
Oh,yes,I am.I heard him say a hundred and two.
People don t die with a fever of one hundred and two.That s a silly way to talk.
I know they do.At school in France the boys told me you can t live with forty-four degrees.I ve got a hundred and two.
You poor Schatz,I said.Poor old Schatz.It s like miles and kilometres.You aren t going to die.That s a different thermometer.On that thermometer thirty-seven is normal.On this kind it s ninety-eight.
Are you sure?
Absolutely,I said.It s like miles and kilometres.You know,like how many we make when we do seventy miles in the car?
Oh,he said.He relaxed slowly and the next day he cried very easily at little things of no importance.