sábado, febrero 02, 2008


"Who taught you to read, Matilda?" Miss Honey asked.
"I just sort of taught myself, Miss Honey."
"And have you red any book all by yourself, any children's book, I mean?"
"I've read all the ones that are in the public library in the High Street, Miss Honey."
"And did you like them?"
"I liked some of them very much indeed," Matilda said, "but I thought others were fairly dull."
"Tell me one that you liked."
"I liked The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrove, Matilda said. I think Mr C.S. Lewis is a very good writer. But he has one failing. There are no funny bits in his books."
"You are right there," Miss Honey said.
"There aren't many funny bits in Mr Tolkien either," Matilda said.
"Do you think that all children's books ought to have funny bits in them?" Miss Honey asked.
"I do," Matilda said. "Children are not so serious as grown-ups and they love to laugh."
Miss Honey was astounded by the wisdom of this tiny girl. She said, "And what are you going to do now that you've read all the children's books?"
"I am reading other books," Matilda said. "I borrow them from the library. Mrs Phelps is very kind to me. She helps me to choose them."
Miss Honey was leaning far forward over her work-table and gazing in wonder at the child. She had completely forgotten now about the rest of the class.
"What other books?" She murmured.
"I am very fond of Charles Dickens," Matilda said. "He makes me laugh a lot. Especially Mr Pickwick."
At the moment the bell in the corridor sounded for the end of the class.