Walter
Sirisena was a mischievous chap quarrelling with everybody in his school. He
had also a quick temper. But the class teacher had a soft corner for him
because he was very intelligent though not so persevering. He excelled in
mathematics but in other subjects he was weak as he was too lazy to do any prolonged study.
One day the teacher himself caught the fellow fighting with another boy. The
teacher called him and said, “I say, you are no doubt having a quick temper. My
advice to you is, when you get angry count up to hundred before you do
anything."
On the following day when the teacher came to the class, he observed Sirisena
having a black eye. Said he addressing Sirisena, “Fighting again? Didn't I tell
you yesterday, when you are angry you should count up to a hundred before you
do anything ?"
”Yes, sir," replied Sirisena, ”but,‘sir, the other boy's teacher had told
him to count up to fifty only !"
* * * * *
When Sirisena was in the Cambridge Senior form, his class teacher was Mr. Rex
Fernando, B.A., B.Sc. The final
examination was to be held in December and the Principal asked Mr, Fernando to
hold a selection test in November. A week before this test, Mr. Fernando told
his pupils, “Boys, I have just passed the draft question papers to the printer.
You take care; study hard. If any of you fail the preliminary test, mark my
word, he will not be sent for the final examination. If you have any problems
that need clarification, please ask me now." Then Sirisena got up and said,
“I have a question to ask, sir."
"Yes, Sirisena, I am here to help you.”
"Sir. Who is the printer to whom you have given the question Papers?"
As an adult Sirisena was no less mischievous than during his school career. One
day he accosted a boy with long hair in the street, “Come sonny, l shall give
you a free hair out.” He took the boy to a saloon, told the barber to give the
boy a nice hair cut and went away saying, "i am going to the bar for a
drink while you cut the kid's hair." After the barber had finished his
job, the boy was waiting for Sirisena, but there was no sign of him even after
two hours.
"Where is your daddy?" asked the barber.
The boy replied, “He is not my daddy. He stopped me on the road and asked if i
would like to have a free hair cut."
The barber thought for a while and said, “You go home, son. if l catch the
fellow, l'll slash his neck with my razor.”
* * * * *
As stated earlier, Sirisena, after leaving the street urchin at the barber's
saloon went to a pub where he met an old friend, Anto Gomes.
Sirisane: l have passed the biblical life span of three score years and ten.
Games : Age does not matter as long as a bloke thinks young.
Sirisena: Eh, waiter, a dram of arrack for me and a lemonade for my friend here
because he is too young to have a strong drink!
* * * * *
Sirisena, thinking in his drunken state that he recognized another old friend
in the street on his way back home, gave the man a huge thump on his shoulder
knocking him to the ground. When the man turned round indignantly, Sirisena saw
to his embarrassment, that he was a total stranger. He apologized: I am sorry;
I thought that you were my old friend Silva.”
The man still reeling from the blow protested: "Even if it had been Silva,
did you have to hit him so hard?” But Sirisena did not want to have any of
this.
“What’s it to you," he demanded, “however hard I hit Silva?"
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