Над пропастью во ржи

           "Iflunkedyouinhistory becauseyouknewabsolutelynothing." 

           "Iknowthat,sir.Boy,Iknowit. Youcouldn’thelpit." 

           "Absolutelynothing,"hesaidoveragain. That’ssomethingthatdrivesmecrazy.Whenpeoplesaysomethingtwicethatway,afteryouadmititthefirsttime. Thenhesaiditthreetimes."Butabsolutelynothing. Idoubtverymuchifyouopenedyourtextbookevenoncethewholeterm. Didyou?Tellthetruth,boy." 

           "Well,Isortofglancedthroughitacoupleoftimes,"Itoldhim. 

           Ididn’twanttohurthisfeelings.Hewasmadabouthistory. 

           "Youglancedthroughit,eh?"hesaid—verysarcastic. "Your,ah,exampaperisoverthereontopofmychiffonier. Ontopofthepile.Bringithere,please." 

           Itwasaverydirtytrick,butIwentoverandbroughtitovertohim —Ididn’thaveanyalternativeoranything. ThenIsatdownonhiscementbedagain. Boy,youcan’timaginehowsorryIwasgetting thatI’dstoppedbytosaygood-bytohim. 

           Hestartedhandlingmyexampaperlikeitwasaturdorsomething. "WestudiedtheEgyptiansfromNovember4thtoDecember2nd,"hesaid. "Youchosetowriteaboutthemfortheoptionalessayquestion. Wouldyoucaretohearwhatyouhadtosay?" 

           "No,sir,notverymuch,"Isaid. 

           Hereaditanyway,though.