Let me tell you one of the earliest disasters in my career as a teacher. It was January of 1940 and I was fresh out of graduate school starting my first semester at the University of Kansas City. Part of the student body was a beanpole with hair on top who came into my class, sat down, folded his arms, and looked at me as if to say "All right, teach me something." Two weeks later we started Hamlet. Three weeks later he came into my office with his hands on his hips. "Look," he said, "I came here to be a pharmacist. Why do I have to read this stuff" And not having a book of his own to point to, he pointed to mine which was lying on the desk. 给你们讲讲我刚当老师时候的一次失败经历吧。那是1940年的1月，我从研究生院毕业不久，在堪萨斯城大学开始学期的教学工作。一个瘦高，长得就像顶上有毛的豆角架一样的男学生走进我的课堂，坐下，双臂交叉放在胸前，看着我，好像在说：“好吧，教我一些东西。”两周后我们开始学习《哈姆雷特》。三周后他双手叉腰走进我的办公室，“看，”他说，“我来这是学习当药剂师的。我为什么必须读这个？”由于没有随身带着自己的书，他就指着桌子上放着的我的那本。
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