Study Hall begins:
My best memory, my only memory, of study hall was the time I was reading Huckleberry Finn for an American literature class. I was reading a passage describing the consequences of Tom and Huck’s foolishness when I broke out laughing. Study hall was supposed to be a sanctum of hushed, studious concentration. Surprised at myself I looked over at our study hall teacher Mr. H. He scowled and shot me a hard stare. I went back to my assignment thinking, “Sorry I was assigned something funny for my homework.”
