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Mansel
It is a fact often silently noted by Time that what man believes he is doing is very often greatly at variance to what is actually happening. A man may believe he is teaching a thing of great value and may only be loading onto young shoulders the corpse of a horse that was a winner in his day.
Time also sees that this generation is a seeding generation. There are plants which for a while gives everything to simple survival and growth. Then comes the time to grow seeds. And then the seeds scatter. Time sees societies doing the same. Time already sees that these boys are part of a diaspora. Only a few will put down roots in this valley. Most will travel far and leave the town impoverished of many of its best. Time has seen whole peoples moving across the face of the earth, driven by famine or war or pressure of population. But in this school Time sees an early example of a new kind of migration, which will soon become world-wide. It sees the use of schools as nets to catch the most promising young from the backwaters of the world and then to bring them into the rich and arrogant centres, the cities.
But it is time for a break. At school there is a welcome midmorning break. It is mandatory to go out into the yards. Milk is available for all to drink in small 1/3 pint bottles. In winter they have frozen in the crates, each silver top pushed up on a column of white ice. There are more signs of life than we have seen all day. There is a lot of motion. Games are being played. Football and cricket are the favourites, each in season. Goal posts and stumps alike are chalked on walls. Boys are walking and talking, running and shouting and fighting. There are quiet boys seemingly always on the margins of life and the loud extroverts who demand the air of attention all their lives. Thirsty boys go to the lowest yard to drink from a small water fountain.