77: Anglish
In the summer between lorehalls, I sold cookroom knives from a list. I couldn’t wheedle folk to buy much, but I did wheedle myself these were the best knives at any outlay. I did get my mom to bespeak a jackknife for my dad’s birthday. It came in the mail; the wrapping was in the wain as my mom drove me to the flightfield for a Christish gospeling trip. In the faregoer seat I opened up the knife to show the soundness workings, and in the bid I cut open my forehand. Next summer I sold doughnuts from behind a topside.