Мор - ученик смерти

           Tragicheroesalwaysmoanwhenthegodstakeaninterestinthem, butit’sthepeoplethegodsignorewhogetthereallytoughdeals. 

           Hisfatherwasyellingathim,asusual.Mortthrewtherockatapigeon, whichwasalmosttoofulltolurchoutoftheway,andwanderedbackacrossthefield. 

           *** 

           AndthatwaswhyMortandhisfatherwalkeddownthroughthemountainsintoSheepridgeonHogswatchEve,withMort’srathersparsepossessionsinasackonthebackofadonkey. Thetownwasn’tmuchmorethanfoursidestoacobbledsquare,linedwithshopsthatprovidedalltheserviceindustryofthefarmingcommunity. 

           AfterfiveminutesMortcameoutofthetailorswearingaloosefittingbrowngarmentofimprecisefunction,whichhadbeenunderstandablyunclaimedbyapreviousowner andhadplentyofroomforhimtogrow,ontheassumptionthathewouldgrowintoanineteen-leggedelephant. 

           Hisfatherregardedhimcritically. 

           ’Verynice,’hesaid,’forthemoney.’ 

           ’Ititches,’saidMort.’Ithinkthere’sthingsinherewithme.’ 

           There’sthousandsofladsintheworld’dbeverythankfulforanicewarm—’Lezekpaused,andgaveup–’garmentlikethat,mylad.’ 

           ’Icouldshareitwiththem?’Mortsaidhopefully. 

           ’You’vegottolooksmart,’saidLezekseverely.’You’vegottomakeanimpression,standoutinthecrowd.’