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Page 73 text:
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39 My Most Unforgettable Character by Frank Speers XII Of the numerous tyrannical figures of teachers that in- habit the caves of my mind and have been supplemented during my jour- ney through school, one bald-headed dictator protrudes from the crowd like a church steeple towering above a cluster of one-story bungalows. The first time I recall seeing him was on the first day of school about IQ46. As my brothers, sisters, and I ascended the old, familiar steps delivering us onto an elevated landing, a deafening roar shattered the silence, leaving us standing erectglike tin soldiers waiting for the next tumult of orders. We parted paths at this point, deciding that it was just the new teacher. My kin nervously entered the senior room on the right and I headed for the junior room on the left. But suddenly something mysterious in the voice of the new master made me hesitate, turn around, and peer through the door into the room on the other side. There he was, standing up beside his desk, a victorious smirk mas-2 king his long expansive face. An ancient pair of rimless spectacles anchored loosely behind his ears were draped over his eyes giving them the appearance of being crossed. A desert of yellowish skin stretched over the top of his skull, severed only by two large, red blood vessels racing one another down the centre and burying themselves jointly at the upper extent of his forehead. On either side, long, narrow oases of half gray hair seemed to clamp the skull together. At this instant my eyeballs nearly leaped from their soc- kets as he casually transferred the well-worked wad of gum from his mouth to the dark cavity under the right lapel of his dusty-gray suit coat. This motion automatically directed my eyes tothe yellow tie splitting the white shirt in half and disappearing into the seclusion of the dark sepulchre under his coat. A pair of jetnblack pants enclosed a pair of long, thin, but sturdy legs. The cuffs fell short of the highly pol- ished black shoes by four or five inches, disclosing a pair of bright red socks repeatedly mended with such remnants of yarn that they vied with Josephus coat of many colours. At this point I turned and hastily retreated to my own class- room, dreading the day, the hour, the minute, that I would fall under the persecution of such a tyrant.
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Page 74 text:
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But alas! the day came. Exactly one year after my fir st vision I marched into the senior room, dreading every step I took. But strangely enough, that step over, the dread had vanished. The ter- rifying figure became a buffoon at whose expense we laughed heartily. One such occurrence, I am sure I will never forget. Every time I think of it, the mixed feelings of that day return. One afternoon when gloom had settled like dense fog over the classroom, it was dee cided that we should take up a mathematics lesson that we had missed a number of days before.. Very determinedly, John iso we called himj was banging on the side blackboard, when the long stick of chalk he was using could stand the shock no longer and shattered into many pieces. I-Ie stooped down endeavouring to retrieve a larger piece that had landed under the pencil sharpener. Upon drawing his body erect, the centre of his pate contacted the pencil sharpener with a fleshy thudr To the hum- iliation of the teacher, everyone roared hilariously. Angrily, he come leted the lesson and assigned our homework.. It was not until the bell rang at four o'clock that we discovered that his elephantine mind hadn't forgotten our joke , One by one he marched the loudest laughs ers up to the front of the room and lathered them with his long l eather strap which he carried unfailingly in his coat pocket. Alas! the joke had backfired. And that is how I see him still, a vicious, humourless little man whose inborn ridiculousness was the constant joke of the pupils subjected to his petty tyranny. ll H Il Rain by Violet Chambers Did you ever hear music made by the rain A s it goes pitter:-pat on the window-pane? Itls really prettyg just listen and see! Pitter-pat-pat, it is singing to me. See the little rivers it makes on the streetg T hey flow down separately, then they meet To make a little lake at the end of the lane f- All this made up of a few drops of rain. L li ll
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