discipline when I saw him lift my paper from his desk and knock for the class's attention.
7 \boys,\he said. \want to read you an essay. This is titled, 'The Art of Eating Spaghetti.'\
8 And he started to read. My words! He was reading my words out loud to the entire class. What's more, the entire class was listening. Listening attentively. Then somebody laughed, then the entire class was laughing, and not in contempt and ridicule, but with open-hearted enjoyment. Even Mr. Fleagle stopped two or three times to hold back a small prim smile.
9 I did my best to avoid showing pleasure, but what I was feeling was pure delight at this demonstration that my words had the power to make people laugh. In the
eleventh grade, at the eleventh hour as it were, I had discovered a calling. It was the happiest moment of my entire school career. When Mr. Fleagle finished he put the final seal on my happiness by saying, \It's - don't you see - it's of the very essence of the essay, don't you see. Congratulations, Mr. Baker.\
