“I insist upon hearing this limerick,” Miss Honey said, smiling one of her rare smiles.
“Stand up and recite it.” Reluctantly Matilda stood up and very slowly, very nervously, she recited her limerick:
“The thing we all ask about Jenny Is, ‘Surely there cannot be many Young girls in the place With so lovely a face? The answer to that is, Not any!’”
The whole of Miss Honey’s pale and pleasant face blushed a brilliant scarlet.
Then once again she smiled. It was a much broader one this time, a smile of pure pleasure.
“Why, thank you, Matilda,” she said, still smiling.
“Although it is not true, it is really a very good limerick. Oh dear, oh dear, I must try to remember that one.”
From the third row of desks, Lavender said, “It’s good. I like it.”
“It’s true as well,” a small boy called Rupert said. “Of course it’s true,” Nigel said.
Already the whole class had begun to warm towards Miss Honey, although as yet she had hardly taken any notice of any of them except Matilda.
Who taught you to read, Matilda?” Miss Honey asked.
“I just sort of taught myself, Miss Honey.” “And have you read any books all by yourself, any children’s books, I mean?”
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