The clock struck eleven at night. The whole house was quiet. Everyone was in bed except me. Under the strong light, I looked sadly before me at a huge pile of that troublesome stuff they call "books". I was going to have my examination the next day. "When can I go to bed?" I asked myself. I didn't answer. In fact I dared not. The clock struck twelve. "Oh, dear!" I cried. "Ten more books to read before I can go to bed!" We pupils are the most _ creatures in the world. Dad does not agree with me on this. He did not have to work so hard when he was a boy. The clock struck one. I was quite desperate now. I forgot all I had learned. I was too tired to go on. I did the only thing I could. I prayed, "Oh God, please help me pass the exam tomorrow. I do promise to work hard afterwards, Amen." My eyes were so heavy that I could hardly open them. A few minutes later, with my head on the desk, I fell asleep. What do you suppose probably happened to the author the next day?
He went to a church to pray again. He passed the exam all by luck. He failed in the exam. He was punished by his teacher.