“pappu, where’s your homework?” miss martin said sternly to the little boy while holding out her hand.
“my dog ate it,” was his solemn response.
“pappu, i’ve been a teacher for eighteen years. do you really expect me to believe that?”
“it’s true, miss martin, i swear it is,” insisted johnny. “i had to smear it with honey, but i finally got him to eat it.”
