Great People - and Midge is not one of them

Great People

'Who knows anything at all about Alexander the Great?' droned the class
teacher. The twelve year olds he was teaching were equally bored.
Blowing bubblegum and smirking where about the only things they could
do to stop themselves becoming Historic - in History (get it).
One hand waved, and the hand belonged to Midge. Wilfred Midge was a
midget, and a nasty one at that, but crafty was the name, and if you're
crafty, you have to have a certain level of intelligence.
'Meeee, oh please, meee!' squeaked Midge, waving his hand in the air.
The teacher's eyes settled on the hand, and he droned, 'Go on Mr.
Midge.' Midge leapt onto the table, drew a ruler out of his pocket, and
cried, 'Alexander the Great, conquering perilous lands' - he leapt from
table to table while horrified girls squirmed - 'Leading troops
launching battle tactics into action - a truly great hero!'
He then stooped and averted his gaze to the teacher, ignoring the
perplexed class. 'Sit down, Mr. Midge and no more theatrics when
writing an essay, please!' droned the teacher. The class's mood
changed, and smaning became a favourite class activity once
more.