Convict

If they can hardly express who teaches English at Madison High School, quite a few years to learn how to get along with a principal, I'm good conchlin'. But lately, even in his more difficult mood, he found ways of getting around.

Yes, and one of the best ways is up the fire escape on the other side of the building. This is the mood I took to class most of last week, when our beloved principal was on one of his infamous economy drive.

This new campaign was particularly ill-timed, since Mr. Barnum badly needed new equipment for his laboratory, and since I badly needed Mr. Barnum—a new desk, or a bathroom, I was a silly depress. For three days, my landlady saw the bloom gathering, and Thursday morning at breakfast he tried to dissell it.

Colonel, don't you want to let me hear about your problems? I'd love to, Mrs. Davis, because it's really nothing you can help me with. Beware or write this, if you don't need to discuss it, I certainly won't thrive.

Thanks, Mrs. Davis. I think I better keep this to myself, let me just say. But I know that, when me, I'd want to tell someone about Mr. Conkins' economy drive and how it's going to affect Mr. Boynton's other new human laboratory equipment, and you've got to need this in your classroom.

As I say, I think I better keep this to yourself. And David, how did you find out about it? We endured when I went into a waiting room this morning, who was talking about it in this week.

How did I sound? Who is a bell? I'm glad I didn't confuse you by mumbling. Mr. Conven's newest economy drive is designed to convince the state examiner that he can flash our school budget when he visits Madison today.