Chapter 13 Chapter Thirteen

Fast forward two years, and Philip was nearly twelve years old.Now he has been promoted to the preparatory senior class, and he is the top student in the class.After Christmas a few boys were going up to the Upper School, and Philip was at the top of his class by then.He had won a lot of prizes, which consisted of worthless books with poor paper and elegant decoration, with the school's emblem on the cover.After Philip became a top student, no one dared to bully him, and he was no longer so unhappy.Due to his physical handicap, his classmates were not so envious of his achievements. "It's not easy for him to get the prize," they said. "What else can he do but eat his books!"

Philip was less afraid of Mr. Watson than he had been at first, and was accustomed to his rough voice; and when the headmaster's hand fell heavily on Philip's shoulder, he felt vaguely that it was really a caress. representation.Philip had a good memory, and memory tends to help academically more than intelligence.He knew that Mr. Watson wanted him to be awarded a scholarship when he graduated from matriculation. But Philip's self-awareness has become very strong during these two years.Generally speaking, the baby is not aware that his body is different from the surrounding objects, but a part of himself; he plays with his toes like playing with a rattle around him, without feeling that these toes belong to him.It was only through the accumulation of painful sensations that he gradually understood the existence of his own body.As for an individual, he has to go through this kind of pain before he gradually realizes the existence of himself; but there is also a difference here: although each of us equally feels that our body is an independent and complete organism, not all Everyone feels that they exist in the world as complete and independent personalities.With the onset of puberty most persons develop a feeling of being apart from others, but this feeling does not always develop to the point of being markedly alien to others.Only those who feel as little of their own existence as the bees in the hive are the lucky ones in life, for they are most likely to be happy: they swarm and blend together, and their joie de vivre is life. The fun lies in the fact that they travel together and share the joy.We can see people dancing in Hampstead Heath Park on Whitsunday, cheering at a football game, or waving from club windows on Pall Mall to a solemn religious procession.It is because of them that humans are called social animals.

Constantly mocked for his limp, Philip gradually loses his childlike innocence and becomes painfully aware of his own existence.For him, the personal situation was quite peculiar, and it was impossible to follow the ready-made rules of life to deal with the surrounding environment, although these laws generally worked well.He had to find another way.Philip read a lot of books, and his mind was full of various ideas. Just because he didn't understand the things in the books, this opened up the world for his imagination to run wild.Behind his painful shyness, something was taking shape in the depths of his mind, and he was vaguely aware of his own personality.At times, however, it surprised him; sometimes he acted in a way he could not understand even himself, and when he thought about it afterwards, he was at a loss and could not explain why.

There was a boy in the class named Luard who befriended Philip.One day when they were playing together in the schoolroom, Luard took Philip's ebony pen holder casually and began to juggle. "Don't play this silly game," said Philip, "you don't wonder if you don't break the barrel of your pen." "Will not." Before the child finished speaking, the pen holder snapped into two pieces.Luard looked at Philip in embarrassment. "Oh, I'm so sorry." Tears rolled down Philip's cheeks, but he said nothing. "Hey, what's the matter?" Luard was really taken aback, "It's exactly the same and I will pay you one."

"I don't care for the pen itself," said Philip tremulously, "but the pen was left to me by my mother when she died." "Oh, Carey, what a pity." "Forget it, I don't blame you." Philip took the penholder, which had been folded in two, in his hand, and looked at it dreamily.He suppressed his sobs, feeling overwhelmed with grief.But he could not say why he was so sad, for he knew perfectly well that he had bought the penholder for a penny or two during his last holiday at Blackstable.He didn't understand at all why he made up such a sad and touching story for no reason, but he was moved by the truth and felt infinitely sad, as if it was true.The pious atmosphere of the parsonage, and the religious atmosphere of the school, made Philip pay great attention to the innocence of conscience; he was insensibly formed with the consciousness that the devil was always prying, snatch his immortal soul.Although Philip was not necessarily more honest than most boys, he always regretted every time he told a lie.At this moment, he thought about what happened just now, felt very distressed, and made up his mind to go to Luard and make it clear that the story was fabricated by himself.Although in his eyes there is nothing in the world more terrible than humiliation, yet for two or three days, he thought that he could add to the glory of God by his humble repentance, and thought of the joy of painful repentance, Still secretly rejoicing.But instead of putting his resolution into action, he chose the easier way to appease his conscience, and expressed his repentance only to Almighty God.However, he still couldn't figure out one thing, how could he be really moved by his fictional story.Those two lines of teardrops rolling down the sloppy cheeks were indeed tears full of true feelings.Later, he accidentally thought of the scene when Emma revealed the news of his mother's death to him.He insisted, though weeping bitterly, to go in and say good-bye to the Miss Watkins, that they might see him mourning and feel pity.