the state of my severed hands
#6
Kansas was going to teach Moose to read. Now if only Moose could grasp why someone would want or need to do so. However, he was going to give it a try before he asked any questions.

So far, so good. Moose understood exactly what spaces were... they were gaps. One thing down. As his teacher informed him the marks were called letters, he stored that information away in his mind as well. Looking closer, he noticed a slight pattern and repetition to the squiggles on the cover. They seemed to follow some sort of logical order, just from their shapes. Again, so far so good... however, when Kansas told him what the letters spelled out, he again cocked his head, this time in confusion and amusement.

"Ta Keel a Mahkin'bir'? Tharrs na' mooch ta et... und na mooch meat upon tha bonny birdie once yeh git et. Tis sooch a simple thin' Kansas, why would yeh need ta knaow tha? Ah kin teach ye if'n tis birdies yeh beh wan'in' ta et."

Surely Kansas could catch a bird. There was much more than patience to it. He knew the male was capable, but yet, here he was, reading what, to Moose, amounted to no more than an instruction manual.


Messages In This Thread

Forum Jump: