“Day shirt,” replied the inspector severely; and George Canninge became red in the face as the disposition to laugh grew stronger.
“Wouldn’t take half so much to make one for my brother Tom as it would for—”
“Silence!” exclaimed the inspector, and Feelier Potts pretended to look very much alarmed, drawing her eyes together towards her nose and nearly making Ann Straggalls titter as the inspector stooped for a fresh entry.
Hazel’s attention was here taken up by another class, for, being left unattended, the girls began to grow restive.
“Now,” said the inspector, “I will ask you another question, my good girls. Can any one tell me what proportion the gusset bears to the whole shirt? The girl who knows put out her hand.”
Miss Rebecca had been hoping that Mr Slingsby Barracombe would enter upon some other branch of education; but he clung to the needlework, and smiled approvingly as half-a-dozen, and then two more hands were thrust out.
“Well,” he said, “suppose you tell me.”
“Three yards,” said the first girl.
“You do not apprehend my question, my good child,” said the inspector blandly. “I asked what proportion the gusset bore to the whole of the shirt.”
“Please, sir, I know, sir,” said Feelier Potts, who was standing with her hand pointing straight at the visitor.