A Separate Peace.pdf - Southwest High School

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12Withers, perched nervously behind her urn. "Or hospitals," he went on. "And naturally noschools. Or churches.""We must also be careful about works of art," she put in, "if they are of permanent value.""A lot of nonsense," Mr. Patch-Withers grumbled, with a flushed face. "How do you expectour boys to be as precise as that thousands of feet up with bombs weighing tons! Look at whatthe Germans did to Amsterdam! Look at what they did to Coventry!""The Germans aren't the Central Europeans, dear," his wife said very gently.He didn't like being brought up short. But he seemed to be just able to bear it, from his wife.After a temperamental pause he said gruffly, "There isn't any 'permanent art' in Central Europeanyway."Finny was enjoying this. He unbuttoned his seersucker jacket, as though he needed greaterbody freedom for the discussion. Mrs. Patch-Withers' glance then happened to fall on his belt.In a tentative voice she said, "Isn't that the . . . our . . ." Her husband looked; I panicked. In hishaste that morning Finny had not unexpectedly used a tie for a belt. But this morning the firsttie at hand had been the Devon <strong>School</strong> tie.This time he wasn't going to get away with it. I could feel myself becoming unexpectedlyexcited at that. Mr. Patch-Withers' face was reaching a brilliant shade, and his wife's head fellas though before the guillotine. Even Finny seemed to color a little, unless it was the reflectionfrom his pink shirt. But his expression was composed, and he said in his resonant voice, "Iwore this, you see, because it goes with the shirt and it all ties in together—I didn't mean thatto be a pun, I don't think they're very funny, especially in polite company, do you?—it all tiesin together with what we've been talking about, this bombing in Central Europe, because whenyou come right down to it the school is involved in everything that happens in the war, it's allthe same war and the same world, and I think Devon ought to be included. I don't knowwhether you think the way I do on that."Mr. Patch-Withers' face had been shifting expressions and changing colors continuously,and now it settled into fixed surprise. "I never heard anything so illogical as that in my life!"He didn't sound very indignant, though. "That's probably the strangest tribute this school hashad in a hundred and sixty years." He seemed pleased or amused in some unknown corner ofhis mind. Phineas was going to get away with even this.His eyes gave their wider, magical gleam and his voice continued on a more compellinglevel, "Although I have to admit I didn't think of that when I put it on this morning." He smiledpleasantly after supplying this interesting additional information. Mr. Patch-Withers settled intoa hearty silence at this, and so Finny added, "I'm glad I put on something for a belt! I certainlywould hate the embarrassment of having my pants fall down at the Headmaster's tea. Of coursehe isn't here. But it would be just as embarrassing in front of you and Mrs. Patch-Withers," andhe smiled politely down at her.Mr. Patch-Withers' laughter surprised us all, including himself. His face, whose shades we
13had often labeled, now achieved a new one. Phineas was very happy; sour and stern Mr. Patch-Withers had been given a good laugh for once, and he had done it! He broke into the charmed,thoughtless grin of a man fulfilled.He had gotten away with everything. I felt a sudden stab of disappointment. That wasbecause I just wanted to see some more excitement; that must have been it.We left the party, both of us feeling fine. I laughed along with Finny, my best friend, andalso unique, able to get away with anything at all. And not because he was a conniver either; Iwas sure of that. He got away with everything because of the extraordinary kind of person hewas. It was quite a compliment to me, as a matter of fact, to have such a person choose me forhis best friend.Finny never left anything alone, not when it was well enough, not when it was perfect."Let's go jump in the river," he said under his breath as we went out of the sun porch. Heforced compliance by leaning against me as we walked along, changing my direction; like apolice car squeezing me to the side of the road, he directed me unwillingly toward the gym andthe river. "We need to clear our heads of that party," he said, "all that talk!""Yes. It sure was boring. Who did most of the talking anyway?"Finny concentrated. "Mr. Patch-Withers was pretty gassy, and his wife, and . . .""Yeah. And?"Turning a look of mock shock on me, "You don't mean to infer that I talked too much!"Returning, with interest, his gaping shock, "You? Talk too much? How can you accuse meof accusing you of that!" As I said, this was my sarcastic summer. It was only long after that Irecognized sarcasm as the protest of people who are weak.We walked along through the shining afternoon to the river. "I don't really believe webombed Central Europe, do you?" said Finny thoughtfully. The dormitories we passed weremassive and almost anonymous behind their thick layers of ivy, big, old-looking leaves youwould have thought stayed there winter and summer, permanent hanging gardens in NewHampshire. Between the buildings, elms curved so high that you ceased to remember theirheight until you looked above the familiar trunks and the lowest umbrellas of leaves and tookin the lofty complex they held high above, branches and branches of branches, a world ofbranches with an infinity of leaves. They too seemed permanent and never-changing, anuntouched, unreachable world high in space, like the ornamental towers and spires of a greatchurch, too high to be enjoyed, too high for anything, great and remote and never useful. "No, Idon't think I believe it either," I answered.Far ahead of us four boys, looking like white flags on the endless green playing fields,crossed toward the tennis courts. To the right of them the gym meditated behind its gray walls,the high, wide, oval-topped windows shining back at the sun. Beyond the gym and the fieldsbegan the woods, our, the Devon <strong>School</strong>'s woods, which in my imagination were the beginning
Page 1 and 2: 1John KnowlesA Separate Peace
Page 4 and 5: 4Devon was both scholarly and very
Page 6 and 7: 6sprang out, fell through the tops
Page 8 and 9: 8a kitchen rattle from the wing of
Page 10 and 11: 10true and sincere; Finny always sa
Page 14 and 15: 14of the great northern forests. I
Page 16 and 17: 163Yes, he had practically saved my
Page 18 and 19: 18Up the field the others at badmin
Page 20 and 21: 20that Finny could shine at it. He
Page 22 and 23: 22"You can try it again and break i
Page 24 and 25: 24tonks and shooting galleries and
Page 26 and 27: 26But Finny gave me little time to
Page 28 and 29: 28was weakened by the very genuinen
Page 30 and 31: 30"Don't go." He said it very simpl
Page 32 and 33: 325None of us was allowed near the
Page 34 and 35: 34The door was slightly ajar, and I
Page 36 and 37: 36We found it fairly easily, on a s
Page 38 and 39: 38"Sure, I'll be there by Thanksgiv
Page 40 and 41: 40Still it had come to an end, in t
Page 42 and 43: 42"How many?""Who knows? Get some.
Page 44 and 45: 44The houses on either side were in
Page 46 and 47: 46"No, I wouldn't.""And I spent my
Page 48 and 49: 48"What?" I pulled quickly around i
Page 50 and 51: 50They laughed at him a little, and
Page 52 and 53: 52"I'm not sure, Leper, but I think
Page 54 and 55: 54After they had gone we laborers l
Page 56 and 57: 56To enlist. To slam the door impul
Page 58 and 59: 588"I can see I never should have l
Page 60 and 61: 60"So," Brinker curled his lip at m
Page 62 and 63:
62So the war swept over like a wave
Page 64 and 65:
64We went into the gym, along a mar
Page 66 and 67:
66you at the Funny Farm.""In a way,
Page 68 and 69:
68large rambling, doubtfully Coloni
Page 70 and 71:
709This was my first but not my las
Page 72 and 73:
72Giraud but Lepellier; we knew, be
Page 74 and 75:
74"Who wants a Winter Carnival?" he
Page 76 and 77:
76Still the sleek brown head bent m
Page 78 and 79:
78ELWIN LEPER LEPELLIER.
Page 80 and 81:
80escapes from is danger, death, th
Page 82 and 83:
82"That's what you say. But that's
Page 84 and 85:
84a good boy underneath," she must
Page 86 and 87:
86the Mess Hall, I had to eat every
Page 88 and 89:
88"How's Leper?" he asked in an off
Page 90 and 91:
90I didn't say anything."He must be
Page 92 and 93:
92never will.""You're so wrong I ca
Page 94 and 95:
94I believed you," he added hurried
Page 96 and 97:
96acoustics in the school. I couldn
Page 98 and 99:
98the tree did it by itself. It's a
Page 100 and 101:
100"Here! Go get him," said Brinker
Page 102 and 103:
102"I can't think of the name of th
Page 104 and 105:
104Dr. Stanpole stopped near the do
Page 106 and 107:
106hurt my stomach and I could feel
Page 108 and 109:
108and "psycho" and "sulfa," strang
Page 110 and 111:
110His face had been struggling to
Page 112 and 113:
11213The quadrangle surrounding the
Page 114 and 115:
114Brinker slid his fingers into th
Page 116 and 117:
116At the gym a platoon was undress
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