Those kids are all junior high schoolers.

I must quit my subject, though much against my will, for hark, the bell sounds, my candle is burnt out, and I have not so much as a flint to strike a light, so I must go to bed, and there dream or meditate till to-morrow.

All this was extraordinarily distasteful to Churchill. It was ugly, gross. Never before had he felt such repulsion when the vicar displayed his characteristic bluntness or coarseness of speech. In the present connexion […] such talk had been distressingly out of place.

A great black bird, Apollyon's bosom-friend, / Sailed past, nor beat his wide wing dragon-penned / That brushed my cap—perchance the guide I sought.