“You haven’t told us what to read,” replied Wort.
“Yes, I have.”
“You haven’t,” stoutly reaffirmed Wort. “You said, ‘Merry gentlemen, read.’”
“I mean the piece called ‘Merry Gentlemen,’ on page—well, you know. We have read it in school enough times to know it, and then scholars ought to know their readers well enough to be able to turn to any place and read without a book even. Who is that speaking? Tell me. Haven’t I told you a thousand times that there must be no speaking in this school? I see the guilty scholar. Richard Grimes, come this way!”
“I didn’t.”
“No trifling, young man. Come this way,” and collaring the refractory Rick, Sid led him into the closet. The governor was not to be wholly suppressed, and kept protruding a red pug-nose into very plain sight.
“Teacher,” called out Wort, “I see a red sugar-plum sticking out.”
“Richard, come this way. You’re looking out.”
“No, sir; it was my nose.”
“Hold out your hand. If you flinch, sir, you will receive another.”