OCR Text |
Show 95, Jeffries, Islamorada [Section 2] I must be living right, he thought, three-by-three a happy menagerie sleeping contented above the rising waters. Mincer did a bad thing in class. Mr. Clayton turned to the offended party. "Dana will you fetch Mr. Knickerbocker's paddle." Back he came, smiling. Ugly frat paddle with those little holes like on the flyswatter. "Well that's not how we act is it class. Really a matter for the assistant principal but it's not as if we can't take care of our own. Now if you'll excuse us a moment." But at the door the boy gave a little cringe. A servile little bow. Everyone could see his terror. Mincer started his escape down the corridor, bold maudlin shouts, loud as a town crier. As Clayton ran to the door calling Mincer come back. Long faces in the teachers' lounge. Clayton you've ruined this pretty day. "My colleagues you're saying you don't want to see the child's mother?" "Hell Clayton, let me put it this way, remember Jack Webb in the D.I.? Now tell me if the drill instructor was jumping up and down at the prospect of meetin' Mrs. Owens." |