In God we trust_ all others pay cash - Jean Shepherd [83]
Miss Bryfogel placed great importance on our weekly reports. Early in the semester she had issued a mimeographed sheet to us, called the Suggested Reading List, from which we drew our ammunition.
I was never a stylist, but I felt that sincerity and neatness, as well as meticulous spelling and ample margins would get my subtle message through.
As far as my actual reading went, I ran heavily toward The Outdoor Chums, which my Aunt Glenn persisted in giving me, Flash Gordon Meets Ming The Merciless, and Popular Mechanics. And three ancient copies of G-8 And His Battle Aces, which I had re-read at least seventy-four times, getting more from their rich mosaic at every reading. However, these were not Reportable.
And so, every week was sheer torture as I phonied and nervously mocked up my Friday report. The books themselves were taken from the public library, and were doled out to us by Miss Easter. Miss Easter was a kindly, thin, ancient lady who had been born wearing a pair of gold-rimmed bifocals and with a full head of blue-gray hair, a true dedicated librarian; an alert protector of the morals of the young. I recall vividly one hellish week trying to read four consecutive words of something called Ivanhoe which had been highly recommended by both Miss Easter and my true Heart-Wound.
My reports themselves actually ran to a sort of form. For example:
“Robinson Crusoe”
by
DANIEL DEFOE
“Robinson Crusoe is about this man who got lost on this island. He made a hat out of a coconut shell and found this foot-print on the beach. His island was named Friday, and they had a goat. This is a very interesting book. It was exciting. I think Robinson Crusoe is a good book.”
Or,
“Black Beauty”
by
ANNA SEWELL
“Black Beauty is about this horse that got sold to a very cruel man. He hit Black Beauty and Black Beauty was very unhappy because Black Beauty was a kind horse and didn’t hit anybody. I think books about horses are very exciting, and Black Beauty is a very exciting book. It has three hundred and two pages, and I think anyone would enjoy reading Black Beauty.”
I felt strongly that unqualified applause for any book on the Suggested Reading List would convey to Miss Bryfogel my deep feelings about the books she read, and also would net me at least a C.
My love grew from Friday to Friday, and little did I realize that disaster was drawing closer and closer by the hour. Trouble invariably sneaks up behind on little cats’ feet; soft and innocent and shadowy. And it quite often results from an attempt to better oneself, to raise the sights, to elevate the standards, to break through into a clearer, brighter world.
Miss Bryfogel continually encouraged something she called “Outside Reading,” which meant books not on the official list. Miss Easter had a vast file of these desirable Non-official Official books at her command. She worked hand in glove with all the Miss Bryfogels at the Warren G. Harding School, ceaselessly striving to push back the frontiers of Barbarism and Ignorance and to raise high the fluttering banners of Culture. And in Hohman, Indiana, that is not an easy task. Amid the dark, swirling mists exhaled by the Blast Furnace, the Coke Plant, and the Oil Refinery, Miss Easter quietly brooded over acres of silent kids hunched over The Lady of the Lake and David Copperfield in her brightly lit island of fantasy and dreams—her library.
On several occasions I had gone the treacherous route of the Outside Reading. It was dangerous, and usually stupendously boring. But already I had mastered the art of manufacturing an entire book report from two paragraphs selected at random, plus a careful reading of the dust jacket, a system which still earns a tidy living for many a