“Is History better for a barrister?”
“I don’t know, but you can easily say you think it is.”
In the end his mother wrote to Dr. Brownjohn, and one grey November afternoon the Headmaster sailed into the class-room of the Upper Fifth, extricated Michael with a roar, and marched with him up and down the dusky corridor in a ferocious discussion of the proposal.
“Why do you want to give up your Classics?” bellowed Dr. Brownjohn.
In the echoing corridor Michael’s voice sounded painfully weak against his monitor’s.
“I don’t want to give them up, sir. Only I would like to learn History as well,” he explained.
“What’s the good of History?” roared the Doctor.
“I thought I’d like to learn it,” said Michael.
“You shouldn’t think, you infamous young sluggard.”
“And I could go on reading Classics, sir, I could really.”