The Corn Is Green Page #2

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Well, I can do addition and subtraction.

- But I cannot do multiplication.

- We'll work on it.

The best thing about teaching

is you're learning all the time, you'll see.

Here we are,

three stolid, middle-aged folk...

...and there are those infant creatures

hardly out of their shells...

...when they're pushed back

under the ground.

Under the ground physically, and what

is worse, under the ground mentally.

Why? Because they were silly enough

to be born penniless.

They'll never have a chance unless...

We have the blessed opportunity to raise up

the children from the bowels of the earth...

...where the devil hath imprisoned them

in powers of darkness...

...bringing them to the light

of knowledge.

Well, that's one way

of putting it, Mr. Jones.

Now, the letter about the barn.

Come on. We'll have some tea.

We have to compose a letter...

...that will make Sir Herbert Vesey

want to give us the barn.

Our tea, Watty!

Just one room.

All I need is one big schoolroom.

A floor, a stove, a few windows...

...like this, as simple as can be. No frills.

That's good, boys.

Now, then, underneath the pump,

all hands.

That's good, boys.

That's it.

Now, then, let me have a look.

Show me your hands, everybody.

- Cat.

- Cat.

Good.

- Miss Ronberry?

- Rat.

Rat.

Dog.

Dog.

Dog.

Please, Miss Ronberry,

how do you spell it?

- What, dear?

- Curriculum.

Yes. Now, what would you like?

The Rivers of Europe

or King Alfred and the Cake?

- Goodbye, Madaly.

- Goodbye.

Bye-bye.

Ta-ta, Bladwin.

You here again?

- No, I said, are you here again?

- No, miss.

- What do you mean, "No, miss"?

- We isn't here again, miss.

Well, what are you, then?

- We isn't this same lot as this morning.

- Ain't you?

Miss Ronnyberry tell us to wait, miss.

- Good evening, sir.

- Good evening.

I see you and the lady teacher

behind the door.

Wait till you see Miss Moffat.

She will give you what for.

Wait till you see Miss Moffat.

She will give you what for.

You wait till you see Miss Moffat.

She will give you what for.

Boys, sorry to keep you waiting,

I won't be a minute.

Yes, why don't you wash your hands

by the pump? You'll find the soap.

Did you understand that?

- Yes, miss.

- Thank you, miss.

- Good.

- Please, miss, can I have a kiss?

I beg your pardon?

What did you say?

Please, miss, can I have a kiss?

Of course you can.

- Anyone else?

- Please, miss, can I have a broken jaw?

I heard a dreadful noise. What happened?

That, I'm not quite sure.

- Did they attack you?

- No, no, I'm afraid that I attacked them.

Oh, dear, our poor school.

The mine owners don't want us,

the pub owners don't want us...

...the chapel is suspicious,

and now I've attacked the youth.

What are these? Books.

They must have dropped them.

I set them a composition.

"How I Would Spend My Holiday."

The ones who write English.

Their holiday?

Did they know what you meant?

You know, I had a...

Good morning. Good morning, children.

- Good morning. And you too.

- Sorry.

Peasant slut.

You'll have to hurry, Mr. Jones. We're going

to see the squire about the barn.

We'll catch him leaving the pub, I hope.

- Good luck!

- We'll need it.

Hurry, hurry, fast as you can.

Stop. Let me out.

- Hello, lady.

- Good morning.

I was just going to drive up the hill

to see you. May we have a little contact?

We may, we may indeed.

- I will wait for you at the post office.

- Thank you.

Well?

Yes, I have a very important message

for you by word of mouth from a gent...

...who's staying at my place

this weekend.

Sir Herbert Vesey. You know that name?

Yes. He's the owner

of the Gwalia farm next to me.

And more to the point,

he's the owner of the barn.

Yes, go on.

Sir Herbert has definitely decided

he has no use for the old wreck.

Yes, I know that already.

But what you don't know,

as he's only just now confided in me...

...is that he does not see it as a school...

...and under no circumstances

will he let it as such.

To which end, you will receive

official notice in tomorrow's post...

...with profound regret,

yours faithfully, et cetera.

But he implied in his first letter

that he was willing to sell.

Well, then, some bigwig must've

made him change his mind, mustn't he?

You.

I'm not gonna have any

of this damned hanky-panky in my village.

- Your village?

- Yes, my village.

- My mine.

- Your mine?

Half share of it.

That explains a good deal.

Now, just a minute.

I do my level best for the villagers.

They call me squire.

It's a term of affection, you know.

It's jolly touching.

I mean, a hamper of food every Christmas?

The whole shoot.

They jabber away in that funny lingo,

but bless their hearts, it's a free country.

But giving them ideas,

trying to turn them into gentlemen...

...what is the point, my dear madam?

Stop calling me your dear madam.

I'm not married, I am not French...

...and you haven't

the slightest affection for me.

Right on every account.

Well, my dear lady, anything I can do

to make your stay here more pleasant.

Just a minute.

I know I shall be sticking a pin into a whale,

but here are two words about yourself.

You are the squire bountiful, are you?

Adored by his contented subjects...

...intelligent and benignly understanding,

are you?

I should just like to point out that there

is a considerable amount of dirt...

...ignorance, misery

and discontent in this world...

...and that a good deal of it

is due to people like you...

...because you're a stupid, conceited,

greedy, good-for-nothing...

...addle-pated nincompoop.

And you can go to blue blazes.

I perceive you have been drinking.

That was undignified,

but I feel the better for it.

Good day, sir.

And good day, madam.

How can he be so mean?

It's so frustrating.

- That barn isn't even being used.

- Cheer up.

I can't cheer up,

the whole school is at stake.

I'm gonna turn that barn into a schoolroom

if I have to die doing it.

Look, miss.

I got you a present, see?

It's got a rope and everything.

We'll hang it on that tree over there.

I'll get those boys to help.

Morgan, Robbart.

Cheer up.

It will be nice to have a bell.

Oh, come on, boys.

It's a mess, and he won't budge,

the big fat fool.

It's so unlike the squire,

I can't believe it.

Oh, it's a mess, and I was so sure.

Men do know best, I think.

Then don't think.

No, I know I shouldn't.

- Hand me your handkerchief.

- Why?

I want to blow my nose.

Why don't you have a good cry?

Am I needed or am I just being stubborn?

Should I just give up and get out?

No, you're tired,

you haven't stopped for weeks. It will...

Here, look at these.

They're so funny, listen.

"If I has ever holiday, I has breakfast

and talks, then dinner and a rest...

...tea, then nothing, then supper,

then I talks, and I go sleep."

From exhaustion, I suppose.

- Where are you going?

- Just another walk.

What's the matter, little dear?

- Mom's hit me.

- Naughty Mom. Why?

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