“No, there’s no flagging with us. We try to keep in advance in our training; we go in for the truck system, so as to keep in the van.”
They were now entering one of the class-rooms, so that Norval’s questioning was brought to a close, leaving him quite as wise as he was before, for which it is to be hoped he was sufficiently grateful.
FRICASSEE.
The grammar lesson was going on, and in the course of a few minutes they had illustrations of various moods—dull moods, sulky moods, cheerful moods, rude moods, and good moods. They also learned a new point in grammar—that there are an indefinite number of cases. Norval objected when this was stated; but the teacher, who had a dominiering look, though an M A ciated Fellow, met his objection at once.
“Beg pardon, sir; we do not in our modern school submit to the teaching of old-fashioned grammars. We stick to facts, sir—to facts. Thomas, prove to the gentleman that there are more cases than are stated in the old grammars.”
Thomas, who went by the nickname of Soft Tommy—being bred though not born a duffer—tried to look crusty, and did not rise.
“Case No. 1, a case of obstinacy,” said the teacher, with a grand air. “Then there are sad cases, strong cases, long cases, card-cases, cases of conscience, cases of instruments, cases of divorce, dressing-cases, hard cases, puzzling cases, pencil-cases, cases of brandy, cases of collision, packing-cases, caucases, ukases, ca-sas——”
VIRUMQUE CANO.
How long he might have gone on nobody can tell; but the small boy that acted as conductor, seizing a cane, began belabouring the teacher with it most vigorously. The master seemed to take this quite as a matter of course (as indeed the class did also), and calmly brought his speech to a close, saying, in a voice broken by sobs, “and lastly, for the present, a case of discipline.”