The Dead School Read Online Free PDF

times. Wouldn’t it be absolutely wonderful to say that that evening saw little Thomas back to himself? He wasn’t however and the crying, bad as it had been
before, was now very close to what you might describe as unbearable. So it wasn’t really surprising when the neighbours said to Mrs McAdoo, ‘Would you not think of bringing him up to
the Canon? Don’t you know that he can work miracles?’ ‘Very well then,’ she replied, ‘I will.’ Because the truth was by that time she would have done anything.
If the neighbour women had told her to feed the baby wood shavings she would have been glad to do it.
    She put him into the pram and wheeled him off up to the parochial house. She told the Canon that there was something wrong with her child, that he had some kind of disease. ‘I see,’
he said to her. ‘Right so – bring him out the back.’
    Of all the women in the town there was no one holier than Mrs McAdoo. She most definitely wasn’t the kind who would speak back to the priests, especially not the Canon. But when he asked
her to bring him round the back and put him down into the barrel of holy water she wasn’t so sure after all if she wanted a miracle performed. In fact, she was almost one hundred per cent
certain that she didn’t and although she was a little bit afraid she did manage to speak up a bit. ‘But, Canon, what if any of it gets into his mouth? There’s all green stuff on
the top of it there. It’s just that I’m afraid it might make him sick, Canon, if you know what I mean.’
    When the Canon heard this he did not quite know whether to fall about the place laughing or just draw out there and then and hit her a skelp of his walking stick. He just couldn’t
understand it. He could not for the life of him understand what was the matter with her. Fortunately for her in the end he just sighed and said, ‘Ah, daughter, will you come on now. Stop your
cod-acting like a good girl and put him into the holy water, I have confessions at eight.’ When she started to sniffle a little bit, he said, somewhat more forcefully this time, ‘Mrs
McAdoo, will you please put the baby in or what is wrong with you?’ So then at last she put him in and when she took him out she hesitated for a minute or two. She wasn’t so sure about
putting him in the second time because he was, as she had said, all covered in the green slime. But the Canon was insistent that it had to be three times or nothing. He said the child was either to
be immersed three times or the whole thing was a complete waste of time. So in went Thomas the third time and the Canon said, ‘There now – that wasn’t so hard, was it? Good girl
yourself.’
    Mrs McAdoo stuttered. Not very much. Just a little because she was confused. Then she composed herself and replied no Canon it wasn’t hard Canon thank you very much Canon I want to thank
you very much. And the Canon said that there was no need to thank him. He said never mind thanking me Mrs I’m doing no more than my job that’s all I’m doing – no more no
less. After that he said it was time for him to be off to his confessions.
    On leaving the church grounds, Mrs McAdoo found herself in a state of near elation and as she carried Thomas all the way down the hill towards the town she felt she was cruising at least three
feet above the ground. And if she was sure of one thing it was that that day which was an ordinary misty-wet day in September was the happiest day ever in her whole life so far and it seemed to her
that nothing would bother her ever again as she said to Thomas, tweaking his cheek in the pram, ‘Isn’t that right, Thomas? Isn’t that right, little chubbies? It certainly is, my
little man!’
    And it definitely did seem at that moment that nothing would bother her ever again. And went on being like that until around half-past eight or nine when she went into the bedroom to see if he
was awake or did he perhaps need another feed. She was still so