Marbels

LETS GO HOME
 It started when they
were going to school in
the school-bus. Some
one started to talk
about marbles, and he
was always so
interested in marbles
that, as he listened, he
began to forget
At first only a little, but as the
fervor of the discussion
increased, he joined in the talk
and it was then that he forgot
completely. And afterwards, he
did not know how he could have
forgotten like that. But perhaps it
was not so strange after all;
everyone had always said he was
'too sensitive' and `so absent-
minded at this age.'
 Perhaps it was he who was strange. The bus

rolled in through the gates and crunched on the

gravel. It was always the familiar crunch that

told him they were in. They broke up and

jumped out with their bags and boxes, and

outside, as he stood waiting for the rest to come

down, the morning hill air felt good and smelt

cool, clean and fresh, and the birds were

chirping in the row of trees that ran along the

gravel way. When the last boy was out, the bus

rolled out of the gates again and they crunched

along the gravel towards the stone entry porch.

Lets go Home
 As they went in someone
observed, 'Why, today's
Saturday! Always like
Saturday because the next
day is Sunday. Don't you?'
He answered, 'Yes!' Yes, he
thought, Saturday; no days
like it. Even class on Saturday
was not as bad as on other
days, and everyone,
including the teacher, seemed
happier with the prospect of
the evening, and the morrow.
Lets go Home
 For him, it was mainly the
evening and fun at home with
his mother—he had lost his
father. On other days there was
always homework to do and
dinner to prepare. But on
Saturday they both were free: he
did only a little of the homework
and his mother finished cooking
early. Saturday evening meant a
lot to him. And then here was, of
course, the matinee on Sunday,
about the only excitement of a
rather quiet day.
LETS GO HOME
 They passed the dining room. The boarders were

still at breakfast mid they could hear the boys

talking and the clatter of plates and knives, forks,

spoons, cups and saucers. There was such a

noise. They are having plantains this morning,'

Peter said, creeping up to one of the entrances.

'Hey, Whisky! Let's have a plantain,' he called out

to the boy sitting at the table nearest to him.

'Whisky' scowled, but on second thoughts threw

him a skin. It looked so funny that all laughed.

LETS GO HOME
 Class began at half past eight. And
since it was Saturday, it began, with
Reading, and Miss Moss reminded
the boys of three colored action
postcards on her desk that went
every Saturday to the first three boys
who read best. It was an exciting
period, always looked r forward to.
After Reading came Arithmetic
which did not fare well with him; he
was always falling asleep and then
having to write fifty lines. Today,
Miss Moss did not assign him a task
and only asked someone to rouse
him; but he wondered why. Then
they had English and that wound up
Saturday morning.
LETS GO HOME
 He had lunch with the
boarders and a few other day
scholars, and '- " Mr. White,
the master-in-charge, who
had his lunch at another table
with Mr. Brown and Mr.
Black, gave him a helping of
the teachers' pudding. he was
such a sensitive boy; so that
should have made him
remember, but since the
marbles in the bus he had
completely forgotten and was
so happy.
LETS GO HOME
 In the afternoon they had
History and Geography
and, because it was
Saturday, they went
upstairs to the library for
the last hour. There he
read a tale about how a
clever young prince foiled
an evil ogre and escaped
from its clutches. It was
exciting and at the same
time comical and he
enjoyed it.
LETS GO HOME
 He would tell it to his mother
when he got home; she would
like it, and he could enjoy it all
over again with her. Then the
bell rang: time to go home.
Books were hurriedly put back
and boxes were snatched up
from the rear of the room
where they had been left, and,
except for the boarders waiting
rather forlornly at their desks,
everyone else dashed out as if
home were a train they would
miss if they were late.
LETS GO HOME
 He did not take a bus with
the rest of the day scholars
this time, he walked it with
four others: Ned, Ram, Peter
and Gopal. As they walked
along the road, with the
green and daisy-covered hill
on One side and the railed
off-slope on the other, the
sun was bright and warm
and the sky was blue. They
talked and laughed a lot;
today was
Saturday and tomorrow Sunday. He picked up a blade of grass and nibbled at it
while Ram slid a ruler along the railing. This evening, Ned was going to the pictures,
Ram was going for ice-cream with his visiting uncle. Peter was going horse-riding.
Gopal was going to wedding. As for himself, he was happy, so happy. He would go
home, and after a quick wash there would be lemon pie on the table. with a large
slice ready on a plate for him. The thought made him want to hurry. His mother
always made lemon pie on Saturdays. He would tell his mother the tale he had read
at school, when they were At tea. And, after tea, they would go out into the garden.
His mother would do some weeding. He would have to water his plants. Had he
already watered them? He could not remember. He had better see about it, the first
thing when he got home.

They had reached the shortcut to his home.

LETS GO HOME
 'Okay, see you Monday!' he
said, ducking under the railing
off the road, and picking his
way down the slope. But just
before he started he heard
someone say, But he doesn't
live...!' and then someone else
saying `Sh-sh-sh!' and then a lot
of giggling. But he did not mind
them, because as he picked his
way down the shortcut his
mind was so full and happy
with the anticipation of home
and his mother, of the lemon
pie and the plants in the garden.
Lemon Pie
LETS GO HOME
 After a little while, he saw
the red roof, bright in the
sun, grinning wide and
happy in the distance. He
brightened and began
running a little faster. In a
little while more he
would see the white sides
of the house, the curtains
flying in the windows and
his mother waiting and
waving from the kitchen.
LETS GO HOME
 But he had not gone very
much further when, all of a
sudden, clear out of the
blue, there was something
wrong he could feel ' At
first it was only a feeling, a
suspicion; then it grew and
thickened in him; it began
whispering in his ear,
'Don't go!' It swelled in
him and became heavier
and he had to slow down.
LETS GO HOME
 He slowed down to a snail's pace and then.
Came to a dead stop, thinking. Everything
was so quiet and strange; a bird chirped in
a tree and after the sound had died away, it
seemed quieter and stranger.
 He felt himself getting goose pimples when
he started to take a few steps further. Then
he saw that there were no flying curtains
beckoning to him and all the windows
were closed; the flowers and plants were
drooping in a pathetic sort of way. And he
had a sudden and full recollection: that he
was not living there anymore but up the
hill at his aunt’s that the house was empty
and his mother had died one week ago. At
first, he just stood still, looking, not
knowing what he should do.
LETS GO HOME
 There was a big lump
in his throat and he
felt like crying. Then
tears came into his
eyes and he wanted to
cry a lot. But he could
only cry quietly.
Thank you.