"Extraordinary! I never heard a word spelled in that way. This is an age of wonders. One meets with strange things everywhere. I should think that that girl would make a teacher one day; and the new country will soon need teachers. The girl did well."
"You do me great honor," said Mr. Crawford, bowing like a courtier. "I appreciate it, I assure you; I appreciate it, and thank you. I have aimed to make my school the best in the country. Your commendation encourages me to hope that I have not failed."
But these polite and generous compliments were exchanged a little too soon. The next word that Mr. Crawford gave out from the "Speller" was obliquity.
"Jason, make your manners and spell obliquity. Take your hands out of your pockets; that isn't manners. Take your hands out of your pockets and spell obliquity."
Jason was a tall lad, in a jean blouse and leather breeches. His hair was tangled and his ankles were bare. He seemed to have a loss of confidence, but he bobbed his head for manners, and began to spell in a very loud voice, that had in it almost the sharpness of defiance.
"O-b, ob; there's your ob; ob." He made a leer. "L-i-k, lik, oblik; there's your oblik—"
"No," said Mr. Crawford, with a look of vexation and disappointment. "Try again."
Jason took a higher key of voice.
"Wall, O-b, ob; there's your ob; ain't it? L-i-c-k, and there's your lick—"
"Take your seat!" thundered Mr. Crawford. "I'll give you a lick after school. Think of bringing obliquity upon the school in the presence of a teacher from the Old World! Next!"