"Oh, my, look at the coon!" cried Matt. "Mr. Jadell, are you in training for a negro minstrels?"
"I'll negro minstrels you!" roared the irate schoolmaster, knocking out the hat and blowing the soot from his nose and eyes. "If I catch the boy who did this—oh, my! Murder! Oh, my fingers!"
He had run his hand into his coat pocket to get his handkerchief. Now he withdrew the hand with a good-sized and very tenacious crab clinging to it. He tried to shake the crab off, but it only stuck the tighter.
"Oh, my hand!" he roared, dancing around. "My fingers will be bitten off! Somebody take the crab away!"
"Thank you, but I never cared for crabs," said Joe, coolly.
"I only touch crabs on the thirtieth day of February," added Link.
"Who ever saw a coon with such crab-like hands before?" came from Fred.
"He'd be worth the price of admission in a dime museum," called out a boy from the rear.
"I'll dime museum some of you if I ever get clear of this crab!" roared Montgomery Jadell.
"Put your hand in a pail of water," suggested Ebenezer Boles. "He will be sure to let go then."