The Beastly Beatitudes of Balthazar B Read Online Free PDF Page B

Other fingers prising open the crook of his elbow. The figures closed in. Breathing up against his eyes.
    Balthazar shaking himself back and forth from the grasping hands and turning towards the door for escape where another grinning monster stood with big lips open.
    "You can't get out of here new boy."
    Balthazar raised a little fist and struck out in front of him. The faces closed in again. A hand pushed hard at his chest. He went backwards over a boy crouching behind his knees. Tillie pulled from his hands as he fell. His head banged the floor and stars danced across a sudden blackness. His eyes opened and above him Tillie's grey stuffing dropped down as it was stretched and torn to pieces between the laughing hands.
    Balthazar rose shouting and flailing his arms. The door handle turning. A sudden scuffling commotion. Then silence. A row of little boys seated gently at their desks, perusing Latin and Greek grammars, faces contorted in thought. All the studious eyebrows raised towards the opening door.
    "What's this nonsense going on in here. What's the dreadful meaning of this."
    Balthazar was led away. Down the long dark corridor. His chest trembling with his breath. Through a swing door into a large room with panelled walls and ceiling. A great crystal chandelier on a chain. A woman in a white apron brought a cup of brown tea. And slice of buttered toast. He sat alone among the dining tables. Out the window a terrace. Faint shouts and smack of a stick against a ball. A hill sweeping steeply down to the tops of trees. The sky was grey and purple and flashed with light and there came a distant rumble of a thundery world.
    Balthazar taken from the dining room by the white aproned woman. Down the hall and up two flights of stairs. To sit in a big leather chair in the housemaster's study. The thin tall man in a dark checked coat and grey flannel trousers. A bright yellow tweed tie. And his polished boots cracked and scarred. The desk lamp spreading out its dim light as long thin fingers turned over papers. The wind brushing a fir branch against the window glassy and black.
    "I am your housemaster. Who pushed you down."
    "I do not know."
    "The elements of leadership sometimes are found in a little scuffling. We mold little leaders here. Did you get a cup of tea."
    "Yes."
    "Did you enjoy your little tea."
    "It was quite reasonable."
    "You speak English well. Who taught you,"
    "My nannie."
    "Good show. You look a dear little chap."
    "Do not speak to me like that."
    "I beg your pardon."
    "I do not want to be called a dear little chap. I am a small human being."
    "I see. Well perhaps it's time we took you to your dormitory. Our small human being will be playing golf tomorrow.
    Do you read your bible."
    "No."
    "Well we are keen on scripture here. And you must address me as sir. We are not unkind but we stand for no nonsense.
    Play the game. Play it well. Play it fairly. And avoid smutty talk and companions."
    "I do not understand the word smutty."
    "Pity. Smutty. You will recognise it when it comes. And know we shan't stand for it."
    "What is smutty."
    "You mean what is smutty, sir."
    "What is smutty, sir."
    "That's better. Smutty. Hmmmm. A smear upon the spirit.
    Concerning things between the legs. There shall be no groping there, you can be sure of that. We shall have no Frenchiness either. When smuttiness comes smite it."
    "What is smite."
    "Smite, smote, smitten. To strike powerfully. And here we smite smut. Let there be no question about that. Our little golfers knock it for a loop. You are a clever little chap, I can see that. But we don't want cleverness to become slipperiness."
    "I do not understand you."
    "Quite simple, we run a school here to mold leaders. Boys here are of the very best families. Little princes and lords with few exceptions." "I am not a prince or lord.' "We make allowances for that. Commoners are given every opportunity.'
    "I want my elephant back."
    "You mean sir."
    "Sir."
    "We don't have toys here you