Read, I, Pencil
I, Pencil My Family Tree as told to Leonard E. Read I am a lead pencil—the ordinary wooden pencil familiar to all boys and girls and adults who can read and write.* Writing is both my vocation and my avocation; that's all I do. You may wonder why I should write a genealogy. I, Pencil, simple though I appear to be, merit your wonder and awe, a claim I shall attempt to prove. Simple? Pick me up and look me over. Innumerable Antecedents Just as you cannot trace your family tree back very far, so is it impossible for me to name and explain all my antecedents. My family tree begins with what in fact is a tree, a cedar of straight grain that grows in Northern California and Oregon. The logs are shipped to a mill in San Leandro, California. Consider the millwork in San Leandro. Don't overlook the ancestors present and distant who have a hand in transporting sixty carloads of slats across the nation. My "lead" itself—it contains no lead at all—is complex. My cedar receives six coats of lacquer.
Related: The Extended Essay (IB DP)
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