“You had better go to the lavatory, and wash,” went on the instructor. “And I think you all have, by this time, a better idea of a catapult than you had before, even though the wrong sort of missile was used. We will now proceed with the lesson.”
It might fairly be presumed that not as much attention was paid to the following instruction as was needed, but, at the same time, there was an excuse. Dutch came back to the class toward the end of the recitation, with a clean collar and a different necktie, and when the lecture was over he did not join in the mirth of his fellow students.
“Dutch was in bad that time, all right,” remarked Sid with a laugh, as the lads strolled out on the campus.
“A regular fountain pen,” commented Tom.
“Want a blotter?” asked Phil, offering a bit of paper.
“Or a pen wiper?” added Frank. “Say, how did you come to make such a mistake, Dutch?”
“Oh, let up, will you?” begged the badgered one. “It wasn’t any mistake. I thought he’d get the ink instead of me.”
“And he changed places with you,” interposed Tom. “Well, mistakes will happen, in the best of regulated classes.”
“Oh say!” began Dutch. Then, despairing of changing the subject, unless he took drastic measures, he added: “How about coasting again to-night?”