I began school at seven in accordance with the law in a remote village. Short of funds, the school had only a few classrooms, all poorly constructed. Needless to say, our teachers were few, too. As a pupil I preferred the playground to the classroom and often liked to play tricks on girls, as by hiding insects in their desk drawers.
On one occasion, I even grimaced behind the back of our teacher, causing the whole class to break into laughter; however, instead of becoming angry, he merely asked why we were laughing and wondered whether there was anything wrong with him. On another occasion, I punctured the tires of a car parked inside the school by using something sharppointed, leaving the principal frightened and bewildered after he had noticed that. Such were the happy moments in my life at that school. The happiest moment, to me and to all of my schoolmates, however, was the one when the school was letting out at the last bell of the day and we were rushing home as if we would never be back. Once, on our way home, a bunch of naughty students found a crickets' hole and exerted themselves to inject water into it with loud cheers.
The girls were no less frantic than the boys when they were having a good time at such games as jump-rope, hopscotch and battledore and shuttlecock.
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