"Pleasant day, boys," said the teacher. "This is a fine sunny nook for you to talk in."
"Seems to me, however, you ought to have a better seat than this old log," continued he, taking his seat at the same time by the side of the boy.
"Not so bad a seat, however, after all. What are you making, Joseph?"
Joseph mumbled out something inarticulate by way of reply.
"I have got a sharper knife," said he, drawing his penknife out of his pocket. And then, "Let me try it," he continued, gently taking the club out of Joseph's hand.
The boys looked surprised, some exchanged nods and winks, others turned away to conceal a laugh; but the teacher engaged in conversation with them, and soon put them all at their ease, except poor Joseph, who could not tell how this strange interview was likely to end.
In the mean time the teacher went on shaving the handle smooth, and rounding the ends. "You want," said he, "a rasp or coarse file for the ends, and then you could finish it finely. But what are you making this formidable club for?"
Joseph was completely at a loss what to say. He began to show evident marks of embarrassment and confusion.
"I know what it is for; it is to defend yourself against me with, is it not, boys?" said he, appealing to the others.
A faint "yes sir," or two, was the reply.