Part 28 (2/2)
”No,” growled the class
”Why not?”
”Fed up riting We want to talk about econoht later they made an attempt to write short essays, but it was a miserable failure; all the joy in creation had been killed by that blue pencil
I can give an example of the other way, the only way One boy of fifteen hated writing essays, and when I began the five ave out the subject ”Mystery,” and I saw hi eyes
”Phew! What a ripping subject!” he cried, ”I , and he continued to make shots, until some of his essays were praised by the class Then one day he cas,” he said, ”and I want you to tell me about them”
This isuntil he wants to learn it That lad picked up all he wanted to know about stops in half-an-hour He was interested in stops because he wanted to write better essays I need hardly say that he had listened to hundreds of lessons on stops during his school career
To-ood-bye to Dauvit
”Aye, doaein' back to London!” he said
”I don't want to leave this lazy life, Dauvit,” I said, ”but I o back and startto London,” put in Jake Tosh
”Penny three ha'pennies a mile noo-a-days I onderstand”
”A shullin' a mile for corps,” remarked the undertaker
Dauvit chuckled
”So ye'll better no dee in London, dohed
”And that reminds me of Peter Wilson, hiaed to London He came hame onexpectedly wan mornin' and his father he says: 'What in a' the earth brocht ye hame in the month o' February, Peter? Surely ye dinna hae a holiday the noo?'
”'No,' says Peter, 'but I had a cauld and I thocht I was maybe takkin'
pewmonia, and, weel father, corpses is a bob a mile on the railway'”
”Dauvit,” I said, ”I don't care where I am buried”
”Is that so?” asked Jake in surprise ”What's become o' yer patriotis to be buried in his ain country For my pairt I wudna like to be buried ony place but the wee kirkyaird up the brae there”
Dauvit grunted
”What does it matter, Jake, whaur ye're buried?”
”Goad,” said Jake, ”it rund in Scotland It's a' sand, and they tell rund”