"6th grade"

ah yes, sixth grade jams! Mine was the Reverend Erasmus Thackeray singing “Rare Willie Drowned in Yarrow” in his tremulous counter-tenor, while Penitence Dirgewallow and old Sin-Be-Gone Hogsteeth accompanied him upon the fife and viol, and outside the WHAP of the gravediggers’ shovels kept a melancholy rhythm as they heaped more dirt upon the graves of all the witches we were hanging at the time, although of course we didn’t call it sixth grade, we called it “death’s foyer,” because in those days we weren’t like you modern kids, going to “school” and living for “decades and decades” like a bunch of decadent Methuselahs, we died like decent people at the age of twenty-six after popping out a couple of dozen children the way God intended, and boy, ha ha, remember how we used to wear our capotains angled windward like a bunch of jackasses? How Goody Drabmallow used to cry out upon our iniquitous appearance, and call upon God’s vengeful angels to cast us into hell for appearing in the public-yard so slovenly! Ha ha, ahhh. Good times