Mr. Brush glanced nervously around, to learn whether any of his friends were within hearing, shuddering to think what the consequences might be. He believed that he could explain the matter to some of the folks, but the majority were so radical in their views that they would refuse to admit the distinction, and would take him to task for teaching improper language to his young pupil. It caused him another shudder at the thought that the same penalty that Wade Ruggles had undergone might be visited upon him, though it is doubtful if the issue would have been similar.
“Ahem, Miss Nellie, when we go back home, will you promise me to say nothing about this part of your lesson?”
“You mean ’bout that bad word?”
“Yes,––let’s forget all about it.”
“I’ll try, but mebbe I’ll forget to forget it.”
“Likely enough,” gloomily reflected the parson; “suppose we try some other words. Ah, we have a visitor.”
At that moment Budge Isham climbed into view and 76 sauntered smilingly toward them. Brush added a whispered warning to the little one not to forget her promise, though, since Isham was an educated man, there ought not to have been anything to fear in his case, but the teacher knew his waggish nature, and had good reason to fear the mischief he would delight in creating.
“Good day,” was his cheery greeting, as he came up; “I hope I am not intruding, but I thought I should like to see how you are getting on, Nellie.”
“Oh, Mr. Brush says I am learning real fast; I can spell ‘cat,’ and ‘dog,’ and ‘dam.’”
Budge raised his hands in horror.