I have many schoolmates, but Tom is the one I like best of all. He is the biggest boy in class. He is about fourteen years old, his shoulders are broad. He is good as one can see when he smiles. I already know several of my classmates. Another one I like too is named George. He wears chocolate-colored trousers and a catkin cap. He is always jolly. There is little John, a poor hunchback, a weak boy with a thin face. Near him is Edwin who is very well-dressed. On the bench in front of me, there is a boy who is called Jake. His face is as round with a small nose. He possesses a special talent; he knows how to make a hare’s face and they all get him to do it and then they laugh.
And there is another curious fellow – my neighbor on the left Jack – small and thick set, with no neck, a gruff fellow, who speaks to no one, and doesn’t seem to understand much but stands watching the master without winking, his brow lined with wrinkles, and his teeth set and if he is questioned when the master is speaking, he make no reply the first and the third time he gives a kick.
And beside him there is a bold, cunning face belonging to a boy named Peter, who has already been expelled from another school. There are, in addition, two brothers who are dressed exactly alike who resemble each other to a hair.
But the most handsome of all, the one who has the most talent, who will surely be the head this year also, is Edward.
Truly I like Edward, the son of the blacksmith, the one with the long jacket who seems sickly and pitiful. It is said that his father often beats him so he is very timid and every time that he addresses or touches someone, he says “Excuse me” and gazes them with his kind, sad eyes. But Tom the biggest is the best of all, I think.