Матильда
Miss Honey
"Yousayyoudon’tfinditdifficulttomultiplyonenumberbyanother,"MissHoneysaid."Couldyoutrytoexplainthatalittlebit."
"Ohdear,"Matildasaid."I’mnotreallysure."
MissHoneywaited.Theclasswassilent,alllistening.
"Forinstance,"MissHoneysaid,"ifIaskedyoutomultiplyfourteenbynineteen...No,that’stoodifficult..."
"It’stwohundredandsixty-six,"Matildasaidsoftly.
MissHoneystaredather.Thenshepickedupapencilandquicklyworkedoutthesumonapieceofpaper."Whatdidyousayitwas?"shesaid,lookingup.
"Twohundredandsixty-six,"Matildasaid.
MissHoneyputdownherpencilandremovedherspectaclesandbegantopolishthelenseswithapieceoftissue.Theclassremainedquiet,watchingherandwaitingforwhatwascomingnext.Matildawasstillstandingupbesideherdesk.
"Nowtellme,Matilda,"MissHoneysaid,stillpolishing,"trytotellmeexactlywhatgoesoninsideyourheadwhenyougetamultiplicationlikethattodo.Youobviouslyhavetoworkitoutinsomeway,butyouseemabletoarriveattheansweralmostinstantly.Taketheoneyou’vejustdone,fourteenmultipliedbynineteen."
"I...I...Isimplyputthefourteendowninmyheadandmultiplyitbynineteen,"Matildasaid."I’mafraidIdon’tknowhowelsetoexplainit.I’vealwayssaidtomyselfthatifalittlepocketcalculatorcandoitwhyshouldn’tI?"
"Whynotindeed,"MissHoneysaid."Thehumanbrainisanamazingthing."
"Ithinkit’salotbetterthanalumpofmetal,"Matildasaid.
