“Yate there eet whoz cawntaint-a too bulloom—Heen mo-dest-a teent z-arrayed—And there-a heet sprade-a heets swit pre-fume-a—Whit-hin thee sy-y-lent-a shade”—
“Stop! Not that you mistook, but—’tis enough. Sir, will you give yourself the pain to tell—not for my sake or reputation, but to the encouragement of the chil’run, and devoid flattery—what is yo’ opinion of that specimen of reading? Not t’oubling you, but, in two or three word’ only—if you will give yo’self the pain”—
“Why, certainly; I think it is—I can hardly find words—it’s remarkable.” Bonaventure started with joy.
“Chil’run, do you hear? Remawkable! But do you not detect no slight—no small faultiness of p’onounciating?”
“No, not the slightest; I smile, but I was thinking of something else.” The visitor’s eye, wandering a trifle, caught Chat-oué giving him one black look that removed his disposition to smile, yet he insisted, “No, sir; I can truthfully say I never heard such a pronunciation.” The audience drank his words.
“Sir,” cried the glad preceptor, “’tis toil have p’oduce it! Toil of the teacher, industry of the chil’run! But it has p’oduce’ beside! Sir, look—that school! Since one year commencing the A B C—and now spelling word’ of eight syllabl’!”
“Not this school?”
“Sir, you shall see—or, more p’operly, hear. First spelling!”
“Yes,” said the stranger, seeing Sidonie rise, “I’d like to hear that class;” and felt Chat-oué looking at him again.