He also assumed the office of teacher, having undertaken to give a little elementary instruction to Pomp. Here his task was beset with difficulties. Pomp was naturally bright, but incorrigibly idle. His activity was all misdirected and led him into a wide variety of mischief. He had been sent to school, but his mischievous propensities had so infected the boys sitting near him that the teacher had been compelled to request his removal.
Three times in the week, during the afternoon, Pomp came over to the farm for instruction. On the first of these occasions we will look in upon him and his teacher.
Pomp is sitting on a cricket by the kitchen fire. He has a primer open before him at the alphabet. His round eyes are fixed upon the page as long as Frank is looking at him, but he requires constant watching. His teacher sits near-by, with a Latin dictionary resting upon a light stand before him, and a copy of Virgil's Aeneid in his hand.
“Well, Pomp, do you think you know your lesson?” he asks.
“Dunno, Mass' Frank; I reckon so.”
“You may bring your book to me, and I will try you.”
Pomp rose from his stool and sidled up to Frank with no great alacrity.
“What's that letter, Pomp?” asked the young teacher, pointing out the initial letter of the alphabet.
Pomp answered correctly.
“And what is the next?”