The Anglish Moot

Ones þere ƿas a cild named Maþeƿ. He ƿas a brasc cild hƿo ƿas not alþer liked, hure at skool. Maþeƿ ƿuld get bad rungs and pull pranks on his skoolmates, þere ƿas efen one time hƿere he kicked þe teacer. At home he ƿas not muc better, he ƿuld unheed his alders and anger hem at efery hƿarf, get no due hue ƿell hy þeƿed him he ƿuld still forþ on ƿiþ his boorisc ƿays. Þis ƿuld end one day in skool. It ƿas a day like any oþer, and Maþeƿ ƿas doodling on his leaf instead of doing ƿork, hƿen a gostly reard ƿinded þruge þe room, and it ƿas calling Maþeƿ's name. Braidly þe gates of hellƿite opened under Maþeƿ's seld and sƿalloƿed him. Þe only deal of him left ƿas his arm. Sume still say þat in þe skool huse at nigt, harroƿing skreams and þe dragging of lences can be heard.

ic read the writ thee made on the underreddit as well, good work!