So Philip was left at home alone — apart from Grannie, who was still asleep.

Before long he was bored all by himself. And with Grannie snoring softly in the next room, he crept into the hall, put on his coat and, not finding his own cap, picked up father’s old fur hat, and set off through the snow to school.

The school stood beyond the village by the old church. To reach it Philip had to walk down the village street and up a hill. As he was walking past some cottages, however, the guard dogs — a terrier and a fierce Alsatian — began to snap at his heels. He began to run, then stumbled and fell. Just then an old man came out of a nearby cottage and drove off the dogs.

“Hey, young fellow-me-lad, what’s your hurry?” he asked kindly

But Philip gathered himself up and hurried off as best he could through the snow. In no time at all he arrived at the school and quickly dodged through the big doors. No one was to be seen in the hall, though he could hear voices from behind a door.

All of a sudden, doubt seized him: What would the teacher say? If he returned home, though, he risked being bitten by the dogs.

“Why aren’t you in class?” snapped a gruff voice behind him.

It was the school janitor.

“In you go, shoo-shoo.”

So little Philip opened the door of the classroom, taking off his father’s hat as he went. The class was full of children, each chattering away, as a tall schoolmaster in a long red scarf paced up and down between the desks.

“What do you want, boy?” shouted the lanky fellow at Philip.

The lad stood silently in the doorway, looking down at his felt boots.

“Well, speak up, who are you?“

Philip kept silent.

“Have you no tongue, boy? Go back home if you cannot speak“

Philip wanted to speak so much. But the words stuck in his throat. He looked up at the teacher and burst into tears.

At that the man took pity on him and, putting his arm around Philip’s shoulders, he turned to the class, asking if anyone knew him.

“He’s Philip, Michael’s brother,” said a voice. “He can’t wait to come to school, but his mother says he’s too young.”

“Ah-ha,” exclaimed the teacher, stroking his beard. “Well, go and sit on the bench, alongside your brother. Later I’ll have a talk with your mother about your coming to school.”

When the teacher came to show Philip the alphabet, he was surprised to find the boy already knew it. He could even read a little.

“Let’s see you spell your name, if you can,” said the teacher with a smile.

“Fee-Fi-Lee-Li-Ip-Pi.”

All the class laughed.

“Well done,” said the teacher. “Who taught you to spell?“

Philip now grew bolder.

“Michael did. But I. . . I’m very quick at learning. ... It didn’t take me long.”

The teacher laughed and said, “Not so fast, young man. You must learn to walk before you can run.”

Philip’s first day at school passed all too quickly

And from then on he went to school every day

A YOUNG BOY’S STORY
OF HOW A STORM CAUGHT
HIM IN THE FOREST

When I was little, Mother sent me for mushrooms in the woods. I reached the woods, gathered some mushrooms, and was just about to go home when all at once it turned dark, began to thunder, and rain came down. I was scared stiff and took shelter under a big oak tree. Such bright lightning flashed that it hurt my eyes and I had to screw them up. Above my head something began to creak and crack and I felt a sudden blow on the head. I fell forward and lay there until the rain stopped.

When I came to, the whole forest was dripping water, the birds were singing, and sunlight was dancing in the trees. The big oak had broken up and smoke was rising from the stump. All around me were pieces of oak.