“Name any class, exclusively at random, and you shall see with what promptness and quietude the chil’run shall take each one their exactly co’ect places.”
“Oh, I understand. You want me to designate”—
“Any class! at yo’ caprice.”
“Well, if you have—third class in geography.”
“Or spelling?” cried Bonaventure, a momentary look of dismay giving place to fresh enthusiasm.
“Yes—spell—I meant spelling.”
“Third spelling!” The tongue of the bell fell with the emphasis, and as silently as sleep the tiniest seven in the school, four pairs of pantaloons, three of pantalettes, with seven of little bare feet at their borders and seven of hands pointed down stiffly at their sides, came out and stood a-row. The master turned to the visitor.
“Now, commencing wherever, even at the foot if desired! ask, sir, if you please, any English word of one syllable, of however difficult!”
“No matter how difficult?”
“Well, they are timid, as you see; advance by degrees.”