I lied to them because they expected it,
and because I had no words in which to express the truth if I knew
it, which is doubtful. For some reason I could not tell them at home
why I got on so badly at school, or no doubt they would have taken me
away and sent me to a country school, as they did afterwards. Nearly
all the real sorrows of childhood are due to this dumbness of the
emotions; we teach children to convey facts by means of words, but we
do not teach them how to make their feelings intelligible. Unfortunately, perhaps, I was very happy at night with my story-books
and my dreams, so that the real misery of my days escaped the
attention of the grown-up people. Of course I never even thought of
doing my homework, and the labour of inventing new lies every day to
account for my negligence became so wearisome that once or twice I
told the truth and simply said I had not done it; but the masters
held that this frankness aggravated the offence, and I had to take up
anew my tiresome tale of improbable calamities. Sometimes my stories
were so wild that the whole class would laugh, and I would have to
laugh myself; yet on the strength of this elaborate politeness to
authority I came to believe myself that I was untruthful by nature. The boys disliked me because I was not sociable, but after a time
they grew tired of bullying me and left me alone. I detested them
because they were all so much alike that their numbers filled me with
horror. I remember that the first day I went to school I walked round
and round the quadrangle in the luncheon-hour, and every boy who
passed stopped me and asked me my name and what my father was. When I
said he was an engineer every one of the boys replied, "Oh! the man
who drives the engine." The reiteration of this childish joke made me
hate them from the first, and afterwards I discovered that they were
equally unimaginative in everything they did. Sometimes I would stand
in the midst of them, and wonder what was the matter with me that I
should be so different from all the rest. When they teased me,
repeating the same questions over and over again, I cried easily,
like a girl, without quite knowing why, for their stupidities could
not hurt my reason; but when they bullied me I did not cry, because
the pain made me forget the sadness of my heart. Perhaps it was
because of this that they thought I was a little mad. Grey day followed grey day, and I might in time have abandoned
all efforts to be faithful to my dreams, and achieved a kind of
beast-like submission that was all the authorities expected of
notorious dunces. I might have taught my senses to accept the
evil conditions of life in that unclean place; I might even have
succeeded in making myself one with the army of shadows that
thronged in the quadrangle and filled the air with meaningless
noise. But one evening when I reached home I saw by the faces of the
grown-up people that something had upset their elaborate
precautions for an ordered life, and I discovered that my brother,
who had stayed at home with a cold, was ill in bed with the
measles. For a while the significance of the news escaped me;
then, with a sudden movement of my heart, which made me feel ill,
I realised that probably I would have to stay away from school
because of the infection. My feet tapped on the floor with joy,
though I tried to appear unconcerned. Then, as I nursed my sudden
hope of freedom, a little fearfully lest it should prove an
illusion, a new and enchanting idea came to me. I slipped from the
room, ran upstairs to my bedroom and, standing by the side of my
bed, tore open my waistcoat and shirt with clumsy, trembling
fingers. One, two, three, four, five! I counted the spots in a
triumphant voice, and then with a sudden revulsion sat down on the
bed to give the world an opportunity to settle back in its place. I had the measles, and therefore I should not have to go back to
school! I shut my eyes for a minute and opened them again, but
still I had the measles. The cup of happiness was at my lips, but
I sipped delicately because it was full to the brim, and I would
not spill a drop. This mood did not last long. I had to run down the house and tell
the world the good news. The grown-up people rebuked my joyousness,
while admitting that it might be as well that I should have the
measles then as later on. In spite of their air of resignation I
could hardly sit still for excitement. I wanted to go into the
kitchen and show my measles to the servants, but I was told to stay
where I was in front of the fire while my bed was moved into my
brother's room. So I stared at the glowing coals till my eyes
smarted, and dreamed long dreams. I would be in bed for days, all
warm from head to foot, and no one would interrupt my pleasant
excursions in the world I preferred to this. If I had heard of the
beneficent microbe to which lowed my happiness, I would have
mentioned it in my prayers. Late that night, I called over to my brother to ask how long measles
lasted. He told me to go to sleep, so that I knew he did not know the
answer to my question. I lay at ease tranquilly turning the problem
over in my mind. Four weeks, six weeks, eight weeks; why, if I was
lucky, it would carry me through to the holidays! At all events,
school was already very far away, like a nightmare remembered at
noon. I said good-night to my brother, and received an irritated
grunt in reply. I did not mind his surliness; tomorrow when I woke
up, I would begin my dreams. II

When I found myself in bed in the morning, already sick at heart
because even while I slept I could not forget the long torment of my
life at school, I would lie still for a minute or two and try to
concentrate my shuddering mind on something pleasant, some little
detail of the moment that seemed to justify hope. Perhaps I had some
money to spend or a holiday to look forward to; though often enough I
would find nothing to save me from realising with childish intensity
the greyness of the world in which it was my fate to move. I did not
want to go out into life; it was dull and gruel and greasy with soot. I only wanted to stop at home in any little quiet corner out of
everybody's way and think my long, heroic thoughts. But even while I
mumbled my hasty breakfast and ran to the station to catch my train
the atmosphere of the school was all about me, and my dreamer's
courage trembled and vanished. When I woke from sleep the morning after my good fortune, I did not
at first realise the extent of my happiness; I only knew that deep in
my heart I was conscious of some great cause for joy. Then my eyes,
still dim with sleep, discovered that I was in my brother's bedroom,
and in a flash the joyful truth was revealed to me. I sat up and
hastily examined my body to make sure that the rash had not
disappeared, and then my spirit sang a song of thanksgiving of which
the refrain was, "I have the measles!"