"Oh, the dictionary," responded Frederick, in a tone of mocking compassion, "the idea of being obliged to depend upon a dictionary!"
But he gave the book to his mother, not without kissing the pretty hand extended for it, however.
Marie, still without taking her eyes from her book, smiled without replying, then, placing her ivory penholder between her little teeth, which made the penholder look almost yellow in comparison, began to turn the leaves of the dictionary.
Profiting by this moment of inattention, Frederick rose from his chair, and placing his two hands upon the table, leaned over to see now far his mother had proceeded with her translation.
"Ah, ah, Frederick, you are trying to copy," said Marie, gaily, dropping the dictionary and placing her hands on the paper as if to protect it from her son's eyes. "I have caught you this time."
"No, nothing of the kind," replied Frederick, dropping into his chair again. "I only wanted to see if you were as far along as I am."
"All I know is that I have finished," responded Madame Bastien, with a triumphant air.
"What, already?" exclaimed Frederick, humbly.
As he spoke, the tall clock in the corner, after an ominous creaking and groaning, began to strike five.
"Good, it is time for recess!" exclaimed Marie, joyfully. "Do you hear, Frederick?"