"I'm never satisfied with a first attempt. ‘I do not understand you. There is turmoil, shouts, cries, jostlings, milling congestions that suddenly break and flow in opposite directions. These sham ideals and advanced notions. ” 152 < 19 > THE WINDS OF NOVEMBER The Thanksgiving season brought a fierce wind that relentlessly whipped around the brick corners of the school. All these things spoke of peace;—but there are seasons when the pleasantest external influences have a depressing effect on the mind, by painfully recalling past happiness. He stirred continually, thrusting his legs about and flinging his arms above his head. “Who’s your violin teacher?” He asked. "The poor young man!" she said.
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