Today is the last day of real classes. I’m lecturing them on a bit of the history of Latin Letters. I found a curious book–set of books, but one mainly–at the public library including a Sanskrit grammar. (A Sanskrit grammar? Yes, the first known example of anybody writing down a grammar was one in Sanskrit. And you can still get them.)
My unruly first year students have been done. I found they were more interested in the death of Latin speakers, but that was enough. The curious death of Pliny the Elder, the horrible death of Seneca, the enduring bones of Ambrose of Milan. Two things they wanted to hear, chiefly: me speaking in an Irish accent and Chicken yodeling. So at least some good has been accomplished in this year’s teaching. I’ll have to remember to provide some chicken yodeling in our last gathering, in which there will be no class.
I did not think, going into it, that beginner students and junior high would be at all compelling by the end of the year. One lives and learns.