Para. 102-104

A tear rolled down each of Polly’s pink cheeks. “Oh, this is awful, awful,” she sobbed.

“Yes, it’s awful,” I agreed, “but it’s no argument. The man never answered the boss’s questions about his qualifications. Instead he appealed to the boss’s sympathy. He committed the fallacy of Ad Misericordiam. Do you understand?”

“Have you got a handkerchief?” she blubbered.

Q: What does “Have you got a handkerchief” indicate?

A: The author is humorously projecting an image of a simple-minded, dumb girl who keeps side-tracking the issue under discussion.

Para. 105-108

I handed her a handkerchief and tried to keep from screaming while she wiped her eyes. “Next,” I said in a carefully controlled tone, “we will discuss False Analogy. Here is an example: Students should be allowed to look at their textbooks during examinations. After all, surgeons have X-rays to guide them during an operation, lawyers have briefs to guide them during a trial, carpenters have blueprints to guide them when they are building a house. Why, then, shouldn’t students be allowed to look at their textbooks during an examination?”

“There now,” she said enthusiastically, “is the most marvy idea I’ve heard in years.”

“Polly,” I said testily, “the argument is all wrong. Doctors, lawyers, and carpenters aren’t taking a test to see how much they have learned, but students are. The situations are altogether different, and you can’t make an analogy between them.”

“I still think it’s a good idea,” said Polly.

Q1: Why did the narrator say in a carefully controlled tone?

A1: He had to control his tone to keep himself from screaming.

Q2: How do you understand “surgeons have X-rays to guide them during an operation”?

A2: Metonymy. Surgeons use X-ray photographs to guide them during an operation. It is seldom considered a “metonymy” now because X-rays are now commonly taken to mean “photographs made by means of X-rays”.

Para. 109-114

“Nuts,” I muttered. Doggedly I pressed on. “Next we’ll try Hypothesis Contrary to Fact.”

“Sounds yummy,” was Polly’s reaction.

“Listen: If Madame Curie had not happened to leave a photographic plate in a drawer with a chunk of pitchblende, the world today would not know about radium.”

“True, true,” said Polly, nodding her head. “Did you see the movie? Oh, it just knocked me out. That Walter Pidgeon is so dreamy. I mean he fractures me.”

“If you can forget Mr. Pidgeon for a moment,” I said coldly, “I would like to point out that the statement is a fallacy. Maybe Madame Curie would have discovered radium at some later date. Maybe somebody else would have discovered it. Maybe any number of things would have happened. You can’t start with a hypothesis that is not true and then draw any supportable conclusions from it.”

“They ought to put Walter Pidgeon in more pictures,” said Polly. “I hardly ever see him any more.”

Q1: What did Polly mean by “It just knocked me out”?

A1: She was excited and filled with pleasure by the movie.

Q2: Why did Polly say Walter Pidgeon was so dreamy?

A2: Walter Pidgeon was well-known and he was so wonderful.

Para. 115-119

One more chance, I decided. But just one more. There is a limit to what flesh and blood can bear. “The next fallacy is called Poisoning the Well.”

“How cute!” she gurgled.

“Two men are having a debate. The first one gets up and says, ‘My opponent is a notorious liar. You can’t believe a word that he is going to say. ’... Now, Polly, think. Think hard. What’s wrong?”

I watched her closely as she knit her creamy brow in concentration. Suddenly, a g1immer of intelligence-the first I had seen-came into her eyes. “It’s not fair,” she said with indignation. “It’s not a bit fair. What chance has the second man got if the first man calls him a liar before he even begins talking?”

Q1: What does “There is a limit to what flesh and blood can bear” mean?

A1: There is limit to what any human being can bear.

Q2: What is “Poisoning the well” fallacy?

A2: The logical fallacy “ad hominem” or speaking “against the man” rather than to the issue. The writer compares “the personal attack on a person holding some thesis” to “poisoning the well” which is a metaphor.

Para. 120-124

“ Pshaw” she murmured, blushing with pleasure.

“You see, my dear, these things aren’t so hard All you have to do is concentrate. Think-examine-evaluate. Come now, let’s review everything we have learned.”

“Fire away,” she said with an airy wave of her hand.

Heartened by the knowledge that Polly was not altogether a cretin, I began a long, patient review of all I had told her. Over and over and over again I cited instances pointed out flaws, kept hammering away without let-up. It was like digging a tunnel. At first everything was work, sweat, and darkness. I had no idea when I would reach the light, or even if I would. But I persisted. I pounded and clawed and scraped, and finally I was rewarded. I saw a chink of light. And then the chink got bigger and the sun came pouring in and all was bright.

Five grueling nights this took, but it was worth it. I had made a logician out of Polly; I had taught her to think. My job was done. She was worthy of me at last. She was a fit wife for me, a proper hostess for my many mansions, a suitable mother for my well-heeled children.

Q1: What did “She said with an airy wave of her hand” show?

A1: She waved her hand in a vivacious or gay manner. This showed that she was pleased with the praise she received from her boyfriend.

Q2: How do you understand “At first everything was work, sweat, and darkness. I had no idea when I would reach the light, or even if I would. But I persisted. I pounded and clawed and scraped, and finally I was rewarded. I saw a chink of light. And then the chink got bigger and the sun came pouring in and all was bright.”

A2: The comparison is kept up and developed throughout the rest of the paragraph. At first it was very hard work(sweating and working in the dark) but finally he saw the light at the end of the tunnel and knew he had succeeded. After a lot of hard work he managed to make Polly think logically. When he went out at the other end of the tunnel he found the sun shining brightly.

Q3: What image did the writer depict of the narrator through “She was a fit wife for me, a proper hostess for my many mansions, a suitable mother for my well-heeled children”?

A3: Here the narrator describes the role, which he thinks, a wife should play. First she should be a proper hostess of a rich man who owns many mansions. In other words she should be good at entertaining his rich friends and clients and thus further his career. Second, she should be a good mother and properly look after his rich and prosperous children.

Para. 125-146

It must not be thought that I was without love for this girl. Quite the contrary, Just as Pygmalion loved the perfect woman he had fashioned, so I loved mine. I determined to acquaint her with my feeling at our very next meeting. The time had come to change our relationship from academic to romantic.

“Polly,” I said when next we sat beneath our oak, “tonight we will not discuss fallacies.”

“Aw, gee,” she said, disappointed.

“My dear,” I said, favoring her with a smile, “we have now spent five evenings together. We have gotten along splendidly. It is clear that we are well matched.”

“Hasty Generalization,” said Polly brightly.

“I beg your pardon,” said I.

“Hasty Generalization,” she repeated. “How can you say that we are well matched on the basis of only five dates?”

I chuckled with amusement. The dear child had learned her lessons well. “My dear,” I Said, Patting her hand in a tolerant manner, “five dates is plenty. After all, you don’t have to eat a whole cake to know it’s good.”

“False Analogy”, said Polly promptly. “I’m not a cake. I’m a girl.”

I chuckled with somewhat less amusement. The dear child had learned her lessons perhaps too well. I decided to change tactics. Obviously the best approach was a simple, strong, direct declaration of love. I paused for a moment while my massive brain chose the proper words. Then I began:

“Polly, I love you. You are the whole world to me, and the moon and the stars and the constellations of outer space. Please, my darling, say that you will go steady with me, for if you will not, life will be meaningless. I will languish. I will refuse my meals. I will wander the face of the earth, a shambling hollow-eyed hulk.”

There, I thought, folding my arms, that ought to do it.

“Ad Misericordiam,” Said Polly.

I ground my teeth. I was not Pygmalion; I was Frankenstein, and my monster had me by the throat. Frantically I fought back the tide of panic surging through me. At all costs I had to keep cool.

“Well, Polly,” I said, forcing a smile, “you certainly have learned your fallacies.”

“You’re darn right,” she said with a vigorous nod.

“And who taught them to you, Polly?”

“You did.”

“That’s right. So you do owe me something, don’t you, my dear? If I hadn’t come along you never would have learned about fallacies.”

“Hypothesis Contrary to Fact,” she said instantly.

I dashed perspiration from my brow. “Polly,” I croaked, “you mustn’t take all these things so literally. I mean this is just classroom stuff. You know that the things you learn in school don’t have anything to do with life.”

“Dicto Simpliciter,” she said, wagging her finger at me playfully.

Q1: Why does the narrator refer to Pygmalion and Frankenstein? Are these allusions chosen aptly?

A1: These two allusions are well chosen. He planned to be Pygmalion, to fashion an ideal wife for himself; but he became Frankenstein for Polly (his student) ultimately rejected him (her teacher).

Q2: Why does the narrator argue that “the things you learn in school don’t have anything to do with life”?

A2: This is a final desperate attempt to make Polly forget the fallacies he taught her. He might yet be able to convince Polly that he loves her and that she should go steady with him. You know that the (foolish and worthless) things you learn in school have no real use in life.

Paras. 147-154

That did it. I leaped to my feet, bellowing like a bull. “Will you or will you not go steady with me?”

“I will not,” she replied.

“Why not?” I demanded.

“Because this afternoon I promised Petey Burch that I would go steady with him.”

I reeled back, overcome with the infamy of it. After he promised, after he made a deal, after he shook my hand! “The rat!” I shrieked, kicking up great chunks of turf. “You can’t go with him, Polly. He’s a liar. He’s a cheat. He’s a rat.”

“Poisoning the Well,” said Polly, “and stop shouting. I think shouting must be a fallacy too.”

With an immense effort of will, I modulated my voice. “All right,” I said. “You’re a logician. Let’s look at this thing logically. How could you choose Petey Burch over me? Look at me—a brilliant student, a tremendous intellectual, a man with an assured future. Look at Petey—a knot head, a jitterbug, a guy who’ll never know where his next meal is coming from. Can you give me one logical reason why you should go stead with Petey Burch?”

“I certainly can,” declared Polly. “He’s got a raccoon coat.”

Q: How does the story end? In what sense is the conclusion ironic?

A: The story ends with Polly’s answer “He’s got a raccoon coat” which makes the irony complete.