Книга только для ознакомления
."
(I should say here that I certainly hope you do not
intend to skin Ark, Astinus, especially not for book covers.
You may skin me instead if you have to, as Ark is late with
his correspondence only because I made paper fishing
boats out of his last reports. I thought they were just waste
paper, like when he writes letters to you when he's mad
and tells you to jump off the roof of your library but then
never sends them. He says it makes him feel better, and he
gives the letters to me to make boats out of them. I grabbed
the wrong stack and am sorry.)
Anyway, I am now a field recorder, which Ark tells me
is the first step toward becoming a real-live scribe and
eventually an amanuensis, which is the most incredible
word, isn't it? I've wanted to be a scribe for years, ever
since Ark taught me to read and write, and I've learned
almost every word there is, except the biggest ones (except
for "amanuensis") and I've practiced and practiced at my
writing until Ark says that if I write on the walls or
furniture one more time, he will put me in jail himself, but I
think he was only kidding, except maybe once or twice.
I am determined to make Ark proud of me, and after
the ceremony, I said, "Ark, I will be the best field recorder
ever, and you are going to be so proud of me that you will
bust."
Ark smiled without looking happy and said, "Good, good.
Just stay out of jail." Then he hurried me toward the door
and gave me a pouch with some hard rolls and cheese and
dried bacon and raisins and other stuff in it, which I
dropped when I cut through the Wylmeens' garden on the
way into town and their big brown mastiff, Mud, chased me
out
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