A common lot
of jackasses they are.
My hatred of talking with these scamps became intense, so I dismissed
them by saying:
"If you fellows have nothing to say, let it go at that. You deserve
pity for not knowing the decent from the vulgar after coming to a
middle school."
I am not very decent in my own language or manner, but am sure that my
moral standard is far more decent than that of these gangs. Those six
boys filed out leisurely. Outwardly they appeared more dignified than I
their teacher, it was the more repulsive for their calm behavior. I have
no temerity equal to theirs. Then I went to bed again, and found the
inside of the net full of merry crowds of mosquitoes. I could not bother
myself to burn one by one with a candle flame. So I took the net off the
hooks, folded it the lengthwise, and shook it crossways, up and down the
room. One of the rings of the net, flying round, accidentally hit the
back of my hand, the effect of which I did not soon forget. When I went
to bed for the third time, I cooled off a little, but could not sleep
easily. My watch showed it was half past ten. Well, as I thought it
over, I realized myself as having come to a dirty pit. If all teachers
of middle schools everywhere have to handle fellows like these in this
school, those teachers have my sympathy.
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