What on earth were the little wretches thinking? That they could better their lot in life through hard work, determination and an education? How terribly adorable. It’s alright though, I shall teach them a lesson they won’t soon forget. And they shall pass it on to their children too so that this problem will be at an end for a generation at the least. They simply have to learn how things are run in my country.
I didn’t say that last bit out loud did I? No, of course not. I wouldn’t exactly be surprised if they already knew what I thought of them. I may never verbalise such feelings (it would be terribly impolitic to do so) but it’s marvellous what one can do in terms of conveying contempt with little more than facial expressions.
All I need to is to savage their funding, slice it to pieces and then they will have no way to finance their grubby way through the hallowed institutions of learning that this blessed country has to offer. It’s high time and past we went back to Dickensian ideals where an orphan boy is only able to mix with the upper crust when he has met with the approval of a wealthy stranger. The lower classes have to understand that nothing in this life comes without a price.
You must earn your place either through a lifetime (and those before you for good measure) of backbreaking labour or by having the foresight to arrange for yourself to be born into the right sort of family. It’s hardly my fault that my parents had the good sense to send me somewhere proper to be educated and make way for me to inherit a well-deserved fortune? Should I really be blamed that others weren’t quite as forward thinking? I think not.