San Francisco Boy
A Chinese boy struggles to adapt to life in the big city

In Chinatown, the streets are crowded and the air is filled with delicious smells. Felix Fong and his family just moved to San Francisco from a town in the countryside, and they have never seen so many people. Felix’s siblings are thrilled by the constant hustle and bustle, but he misses their old house. He liked having grass to play in and a pond to swim in. The city is overwhelming, and it doesn’t feel like home.
 
But soon Felix begins to have adventures in San Francisco. He makes friends and even gets a job. Before he knows it, he forgets about being homesick and learns to fall in love with the city.


"1122610572"
San Francisco Boy
A Chinese boy struggles to adapt to life in the big city

In Chinatown, the streets are crowded and the air is filled with delicious smells. Felix Fong and his family just moved to San Francisco from a town in the countryside, and they have never seen so many people. Felix’s siblings are thrilled by the constant hustle and bustle, but he misses their old house. He liked having grass to play in and a pond to swim in. The city is overwhelming, and it doesn’t feel like home.
 
But soon Felix begins to have adventures in San Francisco. He makes friends and even gets a job. Before he knows it, he forgets about being homesick and learns to fall in love with the city.


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San Francisco Boy

San Francisco Boy

by Lois Lenski
San Francisco Boy

San Francisco Boy

by Lois Lenski

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Overview

A Chinese boy struggles to adapt to life in the big city

In Chinatown, the streets are crowded and the air is filled with delicious smells. Felix Fong and his family just moved to San Francisco from a town in the countryside, and they have never seen so many people. Felix’s siblings are thrilled by the constant hustle and bustle, but he misses their old house. He liked having grass to play in and a pond to swim in. The city is overwhelming, and it doesn’t feel like home.
 
But soon Felix begins to have adventures in San Francisco. He makes friends and even gets a job. Before he knows it, he forgets about being homesick and learns to fall in love with the city.



Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781504021999
Publisher: Open Road Media
Publication date: 10/13/2015
Sold by: Barnes & Noble
Format: eBook
Pages: 186
File size: 8 MB
Age Range: 8 - 12 Years

About the Author

Born in Springfield, Ohio, in 1893, Lois Lenski achieved acclaim as both an author and illustrator of children’s literature. For her Regional America series, Lenski traveled to each of the places that became a subject of one of her books. She did meticulous research and spoke with children and adults in the various regions to create stories depicting the lives of the inhabitants of those areas. Her novel of Florida farm life, Strawberry Girl, won the Newbery Award in 1946. She also received a Newbery Honor in 1942 for Indian Captive, a fictionalized account of the life of Mary Jemison. Lenski died in 1974.
Born in Springfield, Ohio, in 1893, Lois Lenski achieved acclaim as both an author and illustrator of children’s literature. For her Regional America series, Lenski traveled to each of the places that became a subject of one of her books. She did meticulous research and spoke with children and adults in the various regions to create stories depicting the lives of the inhabitants of those areas. Her novel of Florida farm life, Strawberry Girl, won the Newbery Award in 1946. She also received a Newbery Honor in 1942 for Indian Captive, a fictionalized account of the life of Mary Jemison. Lenski died in 1974.

Read an Excerpt

San Francisco Boy


By Lois Lenski

OPEN ROAD INTEGRATED MEDIA

Copyright © 1955 Lois Lenski
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-5040-2199-9



CHAPTER 1

A Walk in the City


"Oh, look!" cried Mei Gwen. "There's the shop where Grandmother buys her fish."

Mei Gwen pulled her two younger brothers across the street. Frankie was seven and Freddie six. Every day after school, Mei Gwen met them in the schoolyard and took them to the jeans factory where their mother worked. Her elder brother, Felix, walked ahead. It was hard to keep up with him, for the streets of Chinatown were very crowded. The children stopped in front of the Yet Sang Fish Shop. Mei Gwen held her nose. She did not like the smell of fish.

Mei Gwen, who was nine, wore her black hair in two braids, with bangs in front. Her sweater was bright red and her wool skirt was pleated. Her face was serious as she kept her eyes on her younger brothers.

They looked in the show window. Strange-looking fish, large and small, were lying on platters and hanging from hooks. Below the show window, inside the tile-covered walls, were two glass-fronted tanks, low on the sidewalk. In one were live frogs, in the other, live turtles. Frankie and Freddie crouched down to look. They pointed their fingers at the turtles. Felix knelt in front.

"Do you remember the turtle I had in Alameda?" he asked.

"No, Elder Brother," said Mei Gwen. "That was so long ago."

"I will tell you how I found it," said Felix. "One day I was walking in my garden near the tomato plants. I kicked up some dirt and what do you think I saw?"

The little boys' eyes opened wide with wonder.

"I saw a turtle sleeping. I picked it up," Felix went on. "I touched its back — its shell was very hot. It was hot, I guess, from sleeping in the sun. It looked like an old turtle."

"Was it as big as these?" asked Freddie, pointing.

"Yes, it was a big one," said Felix. "It was about eight inches long."

"Where did it come from?" asked Frankie.

"I don't know," said Felix. "It must have crawled into my garden during the night from some other place. Maybe it came through a crack in the fence."

"Did I see it?" asked Frankie.

"Yes, I showed it to you," said Felix. "I put the poor turtle in water to cool it off. I put it in the pool with the fish." He looked up at his sister. "Remember I told you we had a fishpool in our yard?"

"Yes," said Mei Gwen, "I remember. You talk about it all the time. What happened to your turtle? Did you eat it?"

"No," said Felix sadly. "About six months later my turtle died. I buried it under the cherry tree because I found it near the tree. The tomato plants were near the tree, too. I was so sorry and very sad. I had so much fun with my turtle and he was such a good pet."

"People don't make pets of turtles in the city," said Mei Gwen. "They buy them and eat them. They make soup out of them."

"But I don't want you to forget Alameda and the fishpond," said Felix.

The little boys pointed their fingers at the frogs in the next tank. They clapped their hands to make the frogs jump. One large frog sat very still and did not move.

"Look at him," said Mei Gwen. "How mean and angry he is. He's staring at me."

Suddenly the frog puffed out its cheeks, made a loud noise and jumped. The boys laughed.

"He wants to get after me," cried Mei Gwen. "Make him stop." The frog sat still again and did not move. "He's staring at me, I tell you."

"He won't hurt you," said Felix. "He can't get out."

Mr. Ben Lum, the fish man, came to the door and smiled.

"Tell that frog to stop staring at me, Mr. Lum," said Mei Gwen.

"It's your red sweater," said the fish man. "Frogs don't like red. Better go home and change it."

Mei Gwen smiled. Was Mr. Lum teasing her? "If I wear my old yellow one, will he stare at me then?"

"No," said Ben Lum, grinning. He went indoors, put a glove on his hand, reached into the tank and picked up the frog.

"Come, let's go!" cried Mei Gwen hastily. "He's taking the frog out! He's going to put it on top of me!"

"Don't be so scared," said Felix. "The poor frog won't hurt you. He's just putting it somewhere else."

"Come, let's go." Mei Gwen took the little boys by the hand and hurried along the street.

"Frogs won't hurt you," said Felix, catching up. "Once I had some tadpoles ..."

"Oh, stop talking about your old fishpond," said Mei Gwen. "I'm tired of hearing about it. You and all your pets out there in Alameda! We're in San Francisco now, and everything is different."

"I like it better in the country," said Felix. He walked slowly, his hands buried deep in his pants pockets.

"Alameda is not country," said Mei Gwen. "It's a town — the houses are close together there. Mother told me so."

"To me it was like country," said Felix sadly. "They always have grass in the country...."

"Grass? Who wants grass?" asked Mei Gwen.

A man from the Lotus Garden Restaurant passed by, balancing a trayful of food on top of his head. He entered the door of an office and went up the stairs. He was taking a hot meal to some of the workers.

The children came to the Sang Sang Poultry Shop and stopped. Live pigeons strutted back and forth in one show window, and dressed chickens hung from hooks in another. At the curb, a man was lifting crates of live chickens down from a truck. On the side of the truck a sign read: SANG SANG POULTRY RANCH, Walnut Creek, California. The man carried the crates into the open door and piled them on top of each other against the wall. Loud clucking and cackling could be heard, as feathers flew.

"Let's look at the pigeons," cried Freddie.

"I want to see the chickens," said Frankie.

"No," said Mei Gwen firmly. "We must turn back now." She pulled her little brothers along. "We cannot stop and look in every window. Mother will be waiting for us. She will say we are late again."

The children made their way slowly through the crowded street. Grant Avenue was a fascinating place. Gift shops, butcher shops, stationery and bookstores, groceries and herb stores stood side by side, with open wall-shops and flower stands at the street corners. Pagoda-like cornices in bright reds and greens towered above the jutting balconies on upper floors.


Mei Gwen knew all the shops, although she had lived in the city for so short a time. All summer long she had gone shopping with Grandmother Yee and had carried things home in Grandmother's shopping bag. Grandmother said that a girl of nine was old enough to learn housekeeping, and the first part of housekeeping was buying supplies.

Mei Gwen loved to look in the windows as much as any one. She knew the Wah On Herb Shop where Dr. Low sold Grandmother the medicine when Frankie had a bad cold. She knew the Art Goods Shop where Aunty Rose bought her imported Chinese costume and embroidered slippers. She knew the bookshop where Father bought Chinese writing books, brushes and ink box for Felix when he started to Chinese school. She knew the Importers Shop where Aunty Kate's friends bought Chinese vases for Christmas and wedding presents. And she knew which grocery store had the best Chinese vegetables. But she could not take time to show the little boys all these things.

"I'm hungry," said Freddie.

"I'm hungry too," said Frankie.

"We will make only one more stop today," said Mei Gwen. She led the boys around the corner into a narrow alley. "Do you smell something good?"

"Um! Um!" sniffed Frankie.

The Wo Lee Noodle Shop faced on the narrow alley. As the children walked in the open door, Mr. Roy Jung came to greet them. He was a good friend of Father's and knew the children well. He wore a white cap and apron, and his face, arms and clothes were dusty with white flour. He greeted the children and filled their hands with Fortune cookies. Each rolled-up cookie, when broken open, held a tiny paper with a "fortune" printed on it. The children opened theirs and Felix read them:

"It is better to keep a friend than to have a dollar."

"Good sense is the master of human life."

"Better not to speak at all than to say what is useless."

"Good! Good!" chuckled Mr. Jung, as he went back to his work. He and a helper were dusting a long, wide strip of dough with cornstarch, then folding it up in a neat pile, ready to be cut by hand with a large knife into noodles. The children thanked Mr. Jung and walked out.

"Let's go see Father," said Freddie.

"Just for a minute," said Mei Gwen.

A rear door to the Lotus Garden Restaurant, where Father worked, stood open in the alley just beyond. The little boys ran over and entered.

"Fish!" sniffed Mei Gwen, holding her nose. "They're always cooking fish. Oh, how I hate the smell of it."

The restaurant kitchen was a busy place, neat and spotlessly clean. Many tables held plates on each of which lay an uncooked fish. Baskets and bowls in orderly rows contained chopped-up vegetables, meats, seasonings and sauces, ready for special orders. Waiters in white coats passed back and forth, their arms loaded with filled porcelain and pewter bowls and dishes. At the huge stove in a far corner, the children saw Father busy at work. He was head cook and could not be interrupted. When one of the waiters spoke to him, he turned, smiled at the children, and lifting his hand, pointed to a clock on the wall.

"He wants you to go to the jeans factory, Younger Sister," said Felix. "And it's time for me to go to Chinese school."

The children came out of the narrow alley into the street again. Hand in hand they stood at the corner waiting for the traffic light to change.

Suddenly a girl a little younger than Mei Gwen passed by. She, too, had younger children in tow, a brother and sister. In Chinatown, the older children are always responsible for the younger ones. The girl stared at Mei Gwen, then lifted her chin and walked on ahead.

"Who is she?" asked Felix.

"Oh, that's the girl we pass on the stairs at home every day," said Mei Gwen. "They live on the second floor in our apartment house. Her father works at the Sun Sun Laundry on Mason Street. I've seen her lots of times, but she never speaks to me."

"People in the city are not friendly," said Felix. "Even those in our own apartment house never speak to us. Nobody tries to be kind to us. That's why I like Alameda better."

At the next corner, the children turned south, walked along by Portsmouth Square, turned again and came into Commercial Street. Felix waited at the corner until he saw Mei Gwen and the little boys go in at the door of Aunty Rose's jeans factory. Then he turned back, retracing his steps.

He had three long blocks to go, up Clay Street which was very steep, back to Stockton Street, where the Chinese school was located. Clay Street was not as steep as Sacramento, where the public playground was. Felix was learning the names of the streets at last. But he still hated the city, the crowds and all the noise. He still had no friends. The boys in public school and the boys in Chinese school did not like him. Even though he now knew the names of many of the streets, he was still afraid he might get lost. But, of course, he never told any one that.

The whole city was crowded and Chinatown most of all. There were too many people. Felix was always pushing into them, or being pushed off the sidewalk. At home, the Fongs' tiny apartment was overcrowded. Only three rooms for seven people. Felix did not like it. Chinese school was crowded too, and noisy. There was no peace and quiet at all. There were no trees to climb.

As he came into the schoolyard, Felix saw that all the boys were there. They were bouncing balls against the bare walls of the high buildings around the yard. They were running, jumping, batting and yelling. When a noisy gong sounded, they all crowded to the door. Some went to upper rooms and some to lower. Felix stood in line with boys of his age. They went into a dark basement room, filled with large desks. Boys sat in two rows at one side, girls opposite. After all the pupils took their places, Mr. Ling, the teacher, passed out writing books. The room became quiet as they settled down to work.

Each pupil had a camel's hair brush for writing, and a brass ink box into which Chinese ink had been poured over silk floss, making a spongy moist cake. A printed copy sheet with Chinese characters on it was inserted between double rice-paper sheets in the writing books.

Felix held his brush in a vertical position between thumb and first finger. The other fingers grasped the handle, while the ball of his hand rested on the table. He breathed deeply, working hard to trace the strokes carefully. Each symbol was different, and there were thousands of them to be memorized. There was no alphabet making words as in public school, where he had learned to read English.

Felix Fong grew very discouraged. Would he ever learn to write? It was hard to have to read and write two languages. But Father said a Chinese boy could not do business in or out of Chinatown unless he knew both languages.

Suddenly out of the corner of his eye, Felix saw something moving. The boy in the next seat was passing something over to him. Felix reached out and took it. It was a comic book. Dared he look at it, while the teacher's back was turned? Mr. Ling was writing Chinese characters on the blackboard and explaining the order in which the strokes should be made. From across the hall, Felix could hear a din of voices. Children in another grade were reciting a lesson aloud in unison. This was the way they learned to read.

Pretending to be busy writing, Felix glanced now and then at the book on his lap. Reading a comic was easy — and funny too! The people did such crazy things. They leaped on horses and crossed high mountains. They jumped off steep places without getting hurt, they even rode rockets to the moon! They were always defending themselves against wicked enemies.

Suddenly, Felix came back to earth with a thud. He felt a ruler slap sharply across his shoulders. The comic book was whisked away and thrown into the waste basket. A volley of Chinese words woke Felix from his dream. All the pupils were looking at him and tittering.

"Seventy-eight is your highest mark in writing, Felix Fong, sixty your lowest," Mr. Ling was saying. "Now you must do ten more pages of tracing for punishment."

Felix groaned. He could say nothing in his defense. He wished he had not taken the book from Sammy Hong, but it was too late now. There was nothing to do but stay after school and finish the ten extra pages.

When he came out of school at last, it was eight o'clock. He heard the clock in St. Mary's church steeple striking. Chinese school lasted from five to seven-thirty. School, school, all a boy's time must be spent in school. Public school from eight-thirty to three-thirty, then Chinese school on top of it. Would he ever be a scholar like his father?

Eight o'clock, nearly dark, and a cold wind blowing. Fog coming in from the bay. The city seemed always cold and rainy. The other boys had all gone home. But even if they were still there, or in the public playground on Sacramento Street, they were all strangers to him. Felix felt lonely and miserable.

He walked slowly along the street, uphill again. San Francisco was all hills. Home again — Mother and Mei Gwen and the little ones would have come back from the factory long ago. Supper would be over. Would they save something for him? Some left-over food for him to eat? Home again — would he ever feel at home in the damp, strange, noisy city?

He ran all the way up the three flights of stairs. He opened the apartment door with his key and went in. Father and Grandmother Yee were talking in the front room. Grandmother Yee, who lived with Aunty Kate, had come for the evening. She was short and plump, and always wore a black Chinese costume. She sat on the davenport knitting, never idle for a minute.

"My son," said Father, frowning. "Why are you so late?"

Felix hunted for words to explain.

"I have told you many times," said Father, "that if my sons look at, buy, or bring into my house a comic book, they will be severely punished. Since Mr. Ling has already punished you, I shall not do so. But you must understand that a comic book is an insult to one's artistic taste, a destroyer of moral sense and a lesson in evil ways. Such things you are to shun throughout life. If you do your work in school hours, you will not have to stay in. I will give you one more chance."

The smell of good food came to Felix from the kitchen. He greeted Grandmother and went out. There at the table sat the baby, little Susie, two years old. She held her rice bowl in one hand and her tiny chopsticks in the other. She stopped eating long enough to look up and smile at Elder Brother. He bent over and kissed her cheek.


(Continues...)

Excerpted from San Francisco Boy by Lois Lenski. Copyright © 1955 Lois Lenski. Excerpted by permission of OPEN ROAD INTEGRATED MEDIA.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

Table of Contents

Contents

I A Walk in the City,
II A Friend and a Job,
III A Day in the Country,
IV A Day at the Factory,
V The Lost Dog,
VI A Day for Growing Up,
VII A Walk in the Park,
VIII A Day to Go Fishing,
IX A Day of Trouble,
X A Day of Understanding,
XI A Day of New Beginnings,
A Biography of Lois Lenski,

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