“Bing, apply the palm!”
“Oh, no, no!” screamed Boltwood. “What do you want me to say?”
“Do you really love your Lotta?”
“I adore her!”
“How nice! Will you be a good boy if you are permitted to sit up like a man?”
“Yes.”
“You won’t kick and make a muss?”
“Well, I——”
“Bing, perhaps another application——”
“Oh, I won’t kick!” gasped the freshman, in a hurry.