you as a difficult pupil, but I find that as long as I don't try and make
you do anything you don't want to, then you're no trouble at all."
I was a daydreamer. If I wasn't doodling on the covers or margins of
my school jotters then I was staring out a window off into space, lost in my
own little world. Mr. Smith was wise enough to realize that it was better to
leave me there, rather than try and compel me to apply myself to a subject
I had no interest in, or, indeed, aptitude for. Unlike another teacher (whose
name escapes me, otherwise I would readily identify the guilty party), who
once gave me 'six of the best' for my inability to master the intricacies
of an Algebra equation.
And below, in all their unretouched glory, are the four illustrations
drawn with a black ink BIC biro in a blank jotter on a lazy afternoon
in Mr. Smith's Maths class all those years ago. Nothing brilliant by any
means, but while I indulged myself, my classmates had to get on with
doing their sums. I wonder if I'm the only pupil ever to get paid for
doing something else during school hours?