Chapter VIII Fraudulent Holidays
"Third Reader," called Gray-beard, and some ten or twelve boys and girls marched to the place of recitation, and put their toes on a straight crack in the floor. The reading lesson was some verses on "Summer," prettily illustrated with a picture of a boy and a dog, the lad racing over a meadow, and the dog frisking at his side.
"Now, Robert, begin!" said Gray-beard to little Bob, who in some unaccountable way had reached the head of the class.
The boy put his index finger on the first word, and slid it along as he read, in a low, sing-song tone, "Come, come, come, the Summer now is here."
"Read that over again," said Gray-beard. "Read it loud, as though you were out of doors at play."
Bob read again, but in the same manner, and had hardly gone through half the line when the sharp crack of Gray-beard's ruler on the desk made us all jump.
"That's not the way to read it!" he exclaimed with some impatience; and he repeated the lines to show how they should be given. "Now, begin again."
Bob began, but in the same lifeless tone, never taking his finger from the words.