To Mr. David Jones,
I'm sorry that I said lots of worse things about you. I recorede four weeks in your class, and I am getting miss you now.

This morning, I wasn't really came to your class, because my boy also was going to Sydney, and I wanted follow him. However, I still came to the class, but you weren't here. I just think you might get sick or illess.

After 30 mins, some lecturer sent to Lutton's office and had a metting. Then, all of your students hear the bad news in our life. We cannot believe that you were gone forever since this morning. Then we all miss you in your class, when you angery, happy and chatting with us, and said the good things about Grig Smith. I miss your carton tie and sox. You are my good teacher. And I hope you will play the good music in the heaven with God.

Thanks Mr. David Jones.