UNCLE J.T.P.

Te Awamutu Courier, Volume 54, Issue 3895, 28 April 1937, Page 2

UNCLE J.T.P.

HELPS WITH HOME LESSONS. PUPIL TURNS THE TABLES. ■ I am wondering whether I did not leave school too soon. When 1 called on my young nephew the other evening 1 found him, his tongue protruding from his mouth, finishing his home lessons. I am by way of being a favourite uncle because I give him occasional pennies and threepences. He was allowed five minutes of romping, and then he was told by his mother that he must finish his homework before playing with his Uncle Johnny. I said it before I realised the hidden traps and pitfalls. My nephew thought it was a great idea. Uncle Johnny could help him with his homework; the teacher would never know. No, no, he himself would do the work, but Uncle Johnny could tell him if lie was doing it correctly. Uncle Johnny know such a lot —even more than daddy. I fell for that last bit. It was the consummate stroke of an impish mffid because I discovered later that Daddy had refused to help. My nephew knew all the time that daddy knows more than anyone else in the world. Well, we started. My nephew dangled his legs from a high chair at the table and I lit a pipe. “You’re not allowed to smoke in school,” said my nephew. “But we're not really in school,’' I replied. “No, but we’re ’tending we are. If you smoke you musn’t help me.” I fell for that, too, and laid my pipe on the table. Then w r e started with arithmetic. Let me say, first of all, that I never was very good at figures. However . . The first sign of trouble arose when 1 was hearing him his multiplication tables. Twice he stopped and accused me of not correcting him when he gave wrong totals. I said they had just slipped past somehow. He then added gravely that he had purposely given the wrong totals to see whether I really knew the tables.

The subtraction exercises were not altogether a success. I’m sure he must have know the answers by heart, because they fell in such a tumbling cascade that I gave up trying after the first three or four. He finished with a gasping rush and gazed triumphantly at me. I said that was very good. “Could you do them as fast as that when you were at school?" he asked, gloatingly. If you had been me you would have given the same reply.

“Well show me now,’’ said the small voice inexorably. Happily I was able to divert his attention to the next assignment. It seemed that a philanthropist wanted to divide a singularly odd sum of money among a number of boys. My nephew waited patiently for me to tell him the answer, but the fractions simply wouldn’t come out. “I can draw a cat jumping over a wall in three lines,’’ said my nephew brightly. I pointed out severely that this was an arithmetic lesson and that he should watch to see how I worked out the sum.

The fractions were getting more awkward, and even threatened to turn into decimals.

“This is how you do it," said my nephew. “You draw here, and here, and here. That’s his tail. See? Look, uncle, look!” My nephew's mother saved the day. “Bed, sonny boy,” she said. My last sight of my nephew was after he had been tucked up in bed. “Will you come and help me with my lessons to-morrow?” he asked.

1 said I would try, but I have no intention of going near the place until he is safely back at school.