Звездный десант
Chapter 2
IthoughtaboutitduringthelastsessionofourclassinHistoryand
MoralPhilosophy.H.&M.P.wasdifferentfromothercoursesinthateverybodyhadtotakeitbutnobodyhadtopassit—andMr.Duboisneverseemedtocarewhetherhegotthroughtousornot.Hewouldjustpointatyouwiththestumpofhisleftarm(heneverbotheredwithnames)andsnapaquestion.Thentheargumentwouldstart.
Butonthelastdayheseemedtobetryingtofindoutwhatwehadlearned.Onegirltoldhimbluntly:"Mymothersaysthatviolenceneversettlesanything."
"So?"Mr.Duboislookedatherbleakly."I’msurethecityfathersofCarthagewouldbegladtoknowthat.Whydoesn’tyourmothertellthemso?Orwhydon’tyou?"
Theyhadtangledbefore—sinceyoucouldn’tflunkthecourse,itwasn’tnecessarytokeepMr.Duboisbutteredup.Shesaidshrilly,"You’remakingfunofme!EverybodyknowsthatCarthagewasdestroyed!"
"Youseemedtobeunawareofit,"hesaidgrimly."Sinceyoudoknowit,wouldn’tyousaythatviolencehadsettledtheirdestiniesratherthoroughly?However,Iwasnotmakingfunofyoupersonally;Iwasheapingscornonaninexcusablysillyidea—apracticeIshallalwaysfollow.Anyonewhoclingstothehistoricallyuntrue—andthoroughlyimmoral—doctrinethat‘violenceneversettlesanything’IwouldadvisetoconjureuptheghostsofNapoleonBonaparteandoftheDukeofWellingtonandletthemdebateit.TheghostofHitlercouldreferee,andthejurymightwellbetheDodo,theGreatAuk,andthePassengerPigeon.
