and talking about the teacher, who came from the next big town to us,
wheen the conversation turned to spelling, and an argument started.
I told him that I knew how to spell .........
the name of the place that our teacher came from,
and he told me, that he too could spell it.
Well, as I did a whirl around a lamp-post,
I told him that he couldn't,
and that got his hackles up and he asked me to spell it.
So quick witted, and logical, and with great authority, I spelled it .........
The name of the place that our teacher came from.
And he told me that I was wrong.
And I told him that I was right.
And he told me that he knew I was wrong,
because his mother had told him how to spell it.
And he too spelled it.
So to make the peace, and as he was coming around to my house
I told him that I would ask my mother.
And he told me that he was going home to ask his mother.
And I told him, that was silly, as my mother was just around the corner.
But turning on his heel he walked back up the hill,
all the way along Main Street,
all the way down Causeway Street,
and round to Croc Na Mac.
And I went home and in amazement! told my mother
that even though she was just around the corner,
he had gone all that way to ask his mother!
Well, my friend came back round from Croc Na Mac
and all the way up Causeway Street,
(which is a very long street for a small boy),
along Main Street,
and down the hill to my house.
And sauntering through the back yard gate,
(with it written down), told me, that he was right.
And I told him that I knew he was right,
because my mother had told me, that I was wrong.
Which seemed strange.
Because the name of the place that our teacher came from
had only two syllables, which was what made it,
"dead easy" to spell.
Well, the name of the place that our teacher came from
was, COLERAINE, and not COAL RAIN.
And shortly afterward my friend moved away.
Which was probably just as well.
__________
© Cormac McCloskey
This poem was amended on, 17th February 2011 / 2nd July 2011
No comments:
Post a Comment