To add force and illustration to his words, and to gain credit with his hearers, the orator whipped out of his pocket a treasure of a knife,—a knife, the possession of which would have shot a thrill of happiness through any understanding boy’s heart,—and brandished it wildly, yet gracefully, slaying myriads of imaginary mad dogs.
Certainly, he seemed master of the situation; but in an actual attack of a mad dog he might have experienced some difficulty in getting his knife out of his pocket, and opened, in time.
But where was the professor’s dignity? Why should he make himself ridiculous for the pastime of idiotic school-children?
Although his spirit revolted at the thought of thus sacrificing himself, yet his benevolence prompted him to do many strange things for the instruction of the ignorant; and on this occasion, he labored not to amuse, but to discipline them.
“Most magnanimous soul! most disinterested savant!” breaks in the reader, struck with admiration for our noble-minded professor.
But when an audible titter ran round the company, the philanthropist hastily pocketed his weapon. Not to be turned from his purpose, however, he resumed his discourse, and artfully harrowed up the feelings of his victims, pausing occasionally to pronounce, and amplify on, some wise and weighty precept.
Teacher Meadows nodded his approbation; the tired school-children became restless and thirsty; their feet went to sleep; they rolled their watery eyes pleadingly. Still the strong-lunged enthusiast continued to hold forth, seemingly taking a malicious pleasure in preying upon their emotions.
Suddenly a distracted boy beheld an object that utterly demoralized him. A piercing shriek of agony burst from his lips, and his eye-balls gleamed like those of an ambushed highwayman.