Translation:The High Mountains/27

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The High Mountains (1918)
by Zacharias Papantoniou, translated from Greek by Wikisource
A School Where Nobody Expected One
2728267The High Mountains — A School Where Nobody Expected One1918Zacharias Papantoniou


A School Where Nobody Expected One

After some minutes Lambros, straight as a ramrod, asked them:

—Where are your papers?

—Which papers? replied the children.

—Er, the papers to learn how to read.

—You mean a book? It's at home. What are we going to do with it here? We're on our holidays you see.

—What's holidays; is it some things?

—No, Lambros, it means that in the summer we don't have school; so we haven't got papers with us. What do you want a book for?

He didn't speak. But after scraping the ground two or three times with the sole of his shoe and swallowing hard, he suddenly said firmly:

—Will you teach me the alphabet?

—Who, us?

–Well who else! You! You know the letters.

The two children looked at each other and as if they had both suddenly agreed, they replied:

–Of course, Lambros!

–Here, straightaway, said Lambros.

–Here, now! But we haven't even got a book.

–I have.

And putting his fingers into his haversack, he pulled out a sheet of paper with letters printed on it in black and red.


It was a page from the holy books in the church.

“Forgive us our trespasses.....” read Dimos. The paper also had on it drips from the altar candles from vespers or the vigil. Who knows where Lambros had found it and picked it up. The poor boy, he was trying to learn to read from that! By himself!

So many of our elders, grandfathers and great-grandfathers, hadn't they learnt to read from the Gospel?

“Here's the A!” said Lambros, and he pointed out a capital A on the paper.

–Yes, good! Now you're going to show us the B.

–As if I knew the B! said Lambros.

Then they told him to sit down to see what they were going to show him on the paper, and everything they were going to say, he was to repeat in turn.

And wham, Lambros sat down cross-legged with amazing ease. Then the lesson began.

“That's a small a. That's a b... that's e... d... m...de... o... me... ta... sou”.

In this way the first lesson took place. Lambros tried to know all his letters at the same time.


Finally no, this wasn't a wild boy. If he had seemed to be so the first time in the cabin, it was because of his embarrassment in front of children from the school.

For months now he had reading as a secret passion. He had heard that many people took a paper and read it from top to bottom, straight off; that others knew how to count up to a thousand.

If he too knew how to count his goats! He says that there are roughly about two hundred, but he doesn't know.

That's why he was ashamed seeing the children for the first time. If only he knew how to hold a pencil and write his name, just like his grandpa the old Athanase!

What's this here? What's that there? He knows nothing besides his goats and his penknife, while they could write correctly, explain and read the Gospel.

They must teach Lambros! It's time. What's learnt is learnt; now, this evening.

“That's enough for this evening, Lambros, Phanis said to him. You can't learn it all at once. Now you have to read the paper on your own, and tomorrow we'll see how much you've remembered.