The Corn Is Green Page #3

- Yes.

Is it true that the school idea

isn't going on so well?

Who told you that?

- I heard some talking.

- Everything is splendid, Bessie.

Oh. I'm glad.

- Miss Moffat's been cruel to me.

- Cruel to you?

She hates my sweets. And...

- and she's a liar too.

- A liar?

She told me they're bad for me.

And it says on the bag

that they're nourishing.

- She's wicked.

- Now come on, Bessie...

- and help me.

- You don't have to scream!

Boys, it's time to write the essay.

You didn't wash very clean. Why not?

Because the water is too cold.

Mr. Jones! Mr. Jones!

- Cloch yr ysgol.

- Yes, Idwal.

Yes, the bell for our school.

Diolch, ymachgcni.

The plans.

Thank you.

These are champions indeed.

Let's go to track and find out..

They'll never win the race.

You make me bet half

a sovereign and you lost.

That wasn't a fair race, Thomas.

You're daffy.

If you don't pay...

I'll pay tomorrow, lad.

- Good day tou you, Miss Ronberry.

- Good day, Mr. Thomas.

How's Miss Moffat prospering

in Glansarno?

I do not wish to discuss Miss Moffat.

You've taken to fancy her yourself,

Miss Ronberry.

I do not wish to discuss

Miss Moffat or myself.

Good day, Mr. Thomas.

Good day, Miss Ronberry.

A mistress at a school.

That was obviously said for my benefit.

Would you mind translating it for me?

I said, "Teacher, can I stay in

after school?"

You don't like the idea of a school.

- We do not.

- I hardly expected that you would.

Miss Moffat, the Squire.

- We've lost the first round,

Miss Ronberry. - Oh, dear.

Take heart.

I can be as stubborn as the Welsh.

Hello, hello, hello.

A jolly good afternoon to you, teacher.

As a matter of fact

I was on my way to call.

I have a most important message

for you, my dear madame.

From a gent who's been lunching

with me today. Sir Herbert Vezey.

Yes, do be quick.

He has definitely decided

that he has no use for the barn...

But he does not see it as a school,

and under no circumstances

will he let it to such to anyone.

Therefore, he most regrets

to decline etc, etc, etc.

But he implied in his letter

he'd be willing to sell.

Well, some bigwig must have made

him change his mind, mustn't he?

- You.

- My dear madame. I shall be blunt.

I'm not going to have any more of this

confounded hanky panky in my village.

- Your village.

- My village.

I'm no braggart but I'll have you know

that everything you can see

from your windows,

you haven't got a bad view, I own.

I may add that all my life I've done

my level best for the villagers.

They call me Squire.

Term of affection, you know.

- It's really decent of them.

- Go on.

They chatter away

in their absurd lingo, but

bless their hearts,

it's a free country!

but this putting them up to read

English, pothooks and giving them ideas.

More more people like you and England

will be a dangerous place to live in.

What are you trying to do?

Turn them into gentlemen?

- What's the idea?

- I'm beginning to wonder myself.

There's another thing. This buying them

out of the mine is a lot of poppycock.

It may interest you to know

that I own a half share in it.

That explains a good deal.

Why don't you take up croquet,

my dear madame?

- Keep you out of mischief.

- Stop calling me your dear madame

I'm not married, I'm not French

and you haven't the slightest

affection for me.

- All right. Roger...

- Just a moment.

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?

I should like to point out that there is

a considerable amount of dirt, ignorance,

misery and discontent

abroad in this world,

and a good

deal of it is due to people like you.

- What?

- You are a stupid, conceited,

addle-headed nincompoop.

And you can go to blue blazes.

Good afternoon!

Must have been drinking!

That was most undignified of me.

But I feel better for it.

I am glad because it was

plain spoken, wasn't it?

Sometimes I wonder if men

really know best, don't you?

What will we do now?

- Have you got a handkerchief?

- That is a good idea.

I always love to cry

when I'm depressed.

Such an advantage over

the gentlemen, I always think.

I want to blow my nose.

Miss Moffat.

We have the bell for the school.

It's good to see it anyway.

It was in the monastery

before it was burned down.

I've decided to give up

the school, Miss Rodenderry.

What are these exercise

books doing here?

Don't you remember?

You assigned the boys an essay

on "How I spent my holiday".

Must've been mad.

"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.

In another time I'd be faintly amused

by this one's idea of a holiday.

- Judging by a rather crude drawing.

- What is it?

A bicycling tour with me in bloomers.

What shall it be this year,

tobogganing among the eternal snows

or tasting the joys of Father Neptune?"

Why, that's beautiful.

Extraordinary.

Yes, I might have thought so too

if I hadn't seen it in

that book open on the desk.

Oh, no. Your Squire was right.

I've been a stupid and impractical idiot.

I can't imagine how.

The mine is dark.

If a light come into the mine...

the rivers...

the rivers in the mine will run fast

with the voice of many women.

Walls will fall in

and it will be the end of the world.

We put up the bell...

Shhh!

So the mine is dark.

But when I walk through

the Tan something shaft in the dark,

I can touch with my hands

the leaves on the trees

and underneath where the corn is green.

Go on reading.

There is a wind in the shaft,

not carbon monoxide

they talk about

It smells like the sea.

Only like as if the sea

had fresh flowers lying about...

And that is my holiday.

- Are you Morgan Evans?

- Yes, Miss.

Did you write this?

No, Miss.

- But it's in your book.

- Yes, Miss.

Then who did write it?

I don't know, Miss.

- Did you write this?

- I don't know, Miss.

What's the matter with it?

Sit down.

Spelling...

Take your cap off.

Spelling's deplorable.

"Mine" with two "n"s

and "leaves" I, e, f, s.

- What was it by right?

- A "v" to start with.

- I never heard of no "v"s, Miss.

- Don't call me Miss.

Are you not a miss?

Yes, I am. But it's not polite.

You say, "Yes, Miss Moffat",

or "No, Miss Moffat".

M-O-F-F-A-T.

- No "v"s?

- No "v"s.

Where do you live?

Under the ground, Miss.

- No, I mean your home.

- Llyn-y-Mwyn, Miss... Moffat.

- Four miles from here.

- How big is it?

A few houses and a beer house.

Have you any hobbies?

Oh, yes.

- What?

- Rum.

Rum.

- Do you live with your parents?

- No. By my own self.

My mother is dead and my father

and my 4 brothers

was in the big shaft accident

when I was 10.

- Killed?

- Oh, yes. Everybody was.

What sort of man was your father?

He had a dash of English.

He learned it to me.

- Do you go to Chapel?

- No, thank you.

Who taught you to read and write?

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