The way we were - Mickie Daly's Diary

02.06.2010

Mickie Daly for your enjoyment.

Class-rooms in Electronic Schools would be quiet. No saying tables aloud and all that noisy stuff some Infint Schools have. Sister Pawl likes a very quiet room for most subjeckts; but Sister lets us let off steem when we have plays and in-door games and all that.

Cold weather! Footy! When Footy’s in I like it best; and when Cricket’s in I like it best. My mother dee-tests football and boxing. She agrees that a man should know how to defend himself if a crook stops ‘him; but she doesn’t like boxing in the Ring for money. I have boxing-gloves. My father gives me lessins, so that I will be able to put my hands up (dubbled into fists) if anyone ever holds me up. My father and I go out to the old garage to have the lessin so that my mother need not hear ind need not see.

Foot-ball comes secind in my mother’s list of dangerous games. My father was pretty good when he was yung. He used to kick best with his left foot. And so do I. Isn’t that remarkabill? I often save the situayshin with my left-footed kick, just as my father used to do when he was a boy.

No more. My mother just called out “Rosary Time.”

Wensday

Wait untill you hear about today. I had a terribble few minits. The room was quiet. We were working away like slaves. Sister Pawl was at her table. That elecktronick school over in the U.S.A. kept coming into my mind. I seemed to have it on the braine.

Then I looked about the room and imadjined all the kids were wearing earfones (children I should have ritten). They looked like kids from the Moon or Mars or somewhere. Well, my thorts were wandering away. I must have been a bit mad for a minit or so, becorse I could see the class all wearing the ear-fones. They looked so FUNNY that (what do you think?) I suddinly burst out larfing - a loud larf.

Then I neerly died, of corse.

The room was as silent as ever. Nobody joined in the larf. Nobody smiled at me. Sister Pawl turned from her book and gave me A LOOK! You know Sister Pawl has all kinds of looks for me; and I know what each one meens. But this was a NEW LOOK - a reely-truely NEW LOOK. I cannot quite explane it - but it was a startled look with an angshus look micksed in it. (How do I do it? I don’t know). I reely beleve Sister Pawl thort I had been working so hard that my poor old brane had snaped. I think Sister thort I was de-mentt-ed!

As for the class

Dickie - my nobill friend - looked horrafied, abserlewtly horrafied. Maurie looked symperthetick. Dacey had a sneering look as if he were saying, “I allways thort you were a bit mad, Daly. Now I’m sure of it.” Croftie could nor even get up a giggle or a grin - he simply staired at me with his mouth open.

Sister Pawl did not call me out to the tabill. The room was quiet - like when a storm is coming up. Sister Pawl gave me a seckind LOOK. I knew what this LOOK said: “I’ll see you later...” (no! not allergater; the look did not say that at all. You’re quite rong if you think so). The LOOK simply said: “I’ll see you later, Michael Daly. I want an explanayshin.” (When Sister is displeesed with us, she uses both names.)

The minits seemed like owers. I felt aweful. Imadjin a boy larfing out loud, suddinly like that; and in Sister Pawl’s class-room!! O bananers! I could hardly believe it had hapined.

- Taken from The Far East, October 1, 1957.

Editors Note: (Mickie Daly's Diary is deliberately full of spelling mistakes).


Read more from The Far East, June 2010