Ex 34 Read and retell the following. Tell a funny story about yourself or a friend

FATTY* TAKES AN EXAM

In the middle of examination-time Digamma Pi Fraternity** had to work on Fatty Pfaff to help him take the exam in anatomy.

Fatty had failed in the mid-year anatomical and now he had to pass a special exam before he could take the final exam.

There was a certain fondness for him in Digamma Pi; Fatty was soft, Fatty was a fool, yet they were fond of him the way people are fond of an old car or a dirty dog.

The night before his special examination they kept him awake working till two, with wet towels and black coffee. They repeated lists — lists — lists to him. They ran about the room, holding up their hands and crying, "Will he never remember a thing?" and then, "Don't get excited, Fatty. Take it easy. Just listen to this quietly, will you, and try. Try to remember one thing at least!"

They led him carefully to bed. He was so full of facts that they were afraid he might lose them on his way to bed. When he woke at seven, with red eyes, he had forgotten everything he had learned.

"He's got to have a crib,"*** said the president of Digamma Pi, "even if he gets caught with it. I prepared one for him yesterday. It'll cover enough of the questions so he'll get through."

Fatty protested: "It's against my principles. I think a fellow who can't get through an examination can't be a doctor. That's what my Dad always said."

The president of Digamma Pi took Fatty by the shoulder and said slowly in a low voice, "Look here, I'm going to put this crib in your pocket — look, here in your pocket, behind your handkerchief."

"I won't use it," whispered Fatty. "It's all the same to me if I fail."

They pushed Fatty through the door, on his way to Anatomy Building. They watched him go.

"Is it possible he's going to be honest?" somebody wondered.

They saw Fatty stop, take the handkerchief out of the pocket — and discover the crib. They saw him look at it, begin to read it, put it back into his pocket and continue his way with a more resolute step.

They joined hands and danced about the room singing, "He'll use it — it's all right — he'll get through!"

He got through.

(After "Martin Arrowsmith" by Sinclair Lewis)