I handed the test in five minutes before the end of the day. Mrs. Baker took it calmly, then reached into her bottom drawer for an enormous red pen with a wide felt tip. "Stand here and we'll see you've done," she said, which is sort of like a dentist handing you a mirror and saying, "Sit here and watch while I drill a hole in your tooth." The first four were wrong, and she slashed through my answers with a broad swathe of bright red ink. It looked like the test was bleeding to death.
"Not such a good beginning," she said.
"The quality of mercy is not strained," I said.
-Gary D. Schmidt, The Wednesday Wars, 60.
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