The Man without Mistakes, I hate.
That fateful day,as i was taking a walk along the beach, breeze of peace and harmony sweeping through nerves while casting my imagination at the wave of the ocean. My mind began to rumminate back in those days when i was in school. Never too old to do what i knows best simple because i was young at heart. I became hardened to the physical pain which a lazy old man with a cane can inflict upon the saddle-toughened buttocks of healthy you boy, and since there was no shame, but a little glory, connected with the beatings, I did not mind them much. Some fellows went through their schooling without ever have been beaten, and they lived in dread of it, excggerating the pain in their imaginations. Stephen and I, who were whacked so often, were looked upon as heros. Stephen was beaten beacuse, being a natural genuis at mathematics, a subject upon which the Reverend John never touch at all he was bored by other lessons and took no pain with them, spending his time in workingout curious problems about angles and curves and weights and measures in the margins of his books.
On this particular Monday which sticks in my mind as day when I first came into contact with Jassy Woodroffe and her father, I had been beaten, as usaul, for my failure with my grammar. I had, as usual, eaten my noon meal, one of Meggie's veal pasties, in the company of Stephen Fennel who had described to me his plan for making a water clock, and given my second pasty and two apples to the little resident boy who complained that did not have enough to eat, and whose looks bore out the asssertion. Then in the afternoon i had answered, with a fault,, the questions put to me about the book which i was reading in English. It was a vast tome called Captain Anderson's Own Account of His Voyages, and when I first set eyeson it I had been trilled by the promise which the title seemed to hold. But it was the the dullest book i had ever read. The good sea-captain had been to many interesting places and seen many extraondinary sights, but the ought not to have attempted to write a book. He never used a short word if he could find a long one, and he never used one word if four could possible be squeezed in. And in the very middle of a pieces of narrative, where the subject was so excitting that even his pomposity could not obsure it, he would difress into akind of lecture avout the wonder of Provindence or the mystery of Nature as though he guessed that his pen was running away with him and was determined to check it. However, I had imagination of a kind and could see, behind the dullness and prosiness, the scenes and the people and the adventures which the captain had attempted to describe, and would probably have said he had decribed. So I could answer and thus escape a beating, whereas Stephen who was working neck by neck with me , and who had palnned a water clock when he should have been afloat in the good ship Steadfast, was beaten for the second time that day.
In all this time, i was able to excel simple because of my msitake and from my mistake i learn ways to do it more better.
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