“How did you do it?”
“Just like the rest. It’s easy enough. I’ll show you.”
“I see,” said Frank. “The teacher worked on it for ten minutes, and then couldn’t get it. I guess he don’t know much.”
“I don’t see anything hard about it,” said Julius. “All you’ve got to do is to follow the rule.”
“I’ll tell him you did it when we recite. See what he’ll say.”{126}
“First class in arithmetic,” called Mr. Slocum.
The boys took their places.
“Our lesson to-day treats of complex fractions,” said Mr. Slocum, pompously. “Does any boy know what complex means?”
“Difficult,” suggested one boy.
“Not exactly. It means complicated. That is, they are puzzling to ordinary intellects, but very simple to those who have studied the higher branches of mathematics, such as algebra, geometry, triggernometry”—this was the way the teacher pronounced it—“and so forth. I have studied them all,” he added, impressively, “because I have a taste for mathematics. Many of you wouldn’t be able to understand such recondite studies. I will now ask each of you to give the rule. Julius, you may give it first.”