We use Optical Character Recognition (OCR) during our scanning and processing workflow to make the content of each page searchable. You can view the automatically generated text below as well as copy and paste individual pieces of text to quote in your own work.
Text recognition is never 100% accurate. Many parts of the scanned page may not be reflected in the OCR text output, including: images, page layout, certain fonts or handwriting.
John Burns are very unusual children. We don't tell them the answers. They tell us. The nurse will bring them down in a minute and you can see for yourself. For instance, what would you say Sandra Jean was, a girl or a boy?"
I said a girl of course.
"You are mistaken," said Gracie. "Sandra will tell you she is a good boy. And if you ask Ronnie what he is he will tell you he is a good girl. Or possibly he may say, 'I yam a good woman'."
For instance (Grade's story continued), what is cod liver oil? Medicine? Oh no. Cod liver oil is Sandra's candy. That's what she says. And what does the sun do when you're in it too long? No — it bites you. Ronnie says it bites him, and so does the wind. And what is having your tonsils out? An operation? Don't be silly — it's a party, of course. Sandra ought to know. She had hers out and — now don't laugh — how do you know you're not crazy? I thought I was smart the other day too.
Sandra (Gracie continued) has been having the
when
Why — it bites you, says Ron
nie, and so does the wind
"whys" a lot recently. Everything you tell her to do she comes back with a "why". No, I don't know why, but I got pretty tired of it so after one particularly provoking series of "whys", I got a little bit angry and thought I'd teach her a lesson. "Why, why, why," I cried, "Always 'why'. Well, Sandra — why are you wearing that dress — tell me that?" And Sandra said very calmly, "Because if I don't I catch cold!" So—
Now maybe you think kids don't worry about their parents, too (said George) but they do. Yes sir, they sure do. You know, sometimes when I'm reading or thinking my mouth hangs open a little bit. Just a little bit, of course, but the other night Sandra tiptoed up. She almost scared me out of my wits. She said "Daddy!" like that — "Daddy — close your mouth." And I closed it.
Yes indeed, our children have a sense of responsibility— I guess you'd call it a conscience. Now you take Ronnie. Sometimes I could take that little rascal and shake him to pieces, it seems, he's so bad. But
K
I
B
E
11