In the early seventies, I took my toddler son on a tour of Vic. In an office corridor, Professor Northrop Frye happened along, his academic gown billowing.
“ Who is that?” said my son.
“That’s Professor Frye. Would you like to have him as a teacher?” I replied.
“Well, yes.” Said my son, hesitantly
“Then you will have to get as far as learning your X,Y, Z’s”
Hearing this conversation, Professor Frye turned on his heel and said rather snappishly, “These days it doesn’t matter!” and billowed on down the corridor.
Story submitted by: Major L. Phillips 6T4