From the mouth of babes!  His first word?  My name!  An auspicious beginning for a most promising boy.  I shall become his new tutor.  I expect everyone to do everything, though, that I may be a questionable teacher.  But try we must.

Note: Soup eating ensued to a roaring success, as well it should.    

Penance takes all forms, and it seems that this is one of the many prices I shall pay on my road to redemption.

Things took a turn for the worse with a wild misunderstanding involving Young Master David, a knife, and a pistol-wielding Mr. Roger Collins — never a good recipe.  The Lad was wounded, and I was given cause to reflect upon the nature of privilege and difference.  How little does Mr. Roger Collins know!  But I am guilty of all of the same foibles.  I suspect that we are all, all of us, privileged and different, simultaneously.  Were we only able to recognize those points of uniqueness sans fear.



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