“I’m nearly stifled. I hope he’ll give it to me now.”
But the master said nothing, and Willie went on stewing until dinner time.
He felt half inclined to dispense at least with the sweater before afternoon school, but fear of the master’s cane deterred him.
All through the afternoon he suffered untold misery, mopping his face until his handkerchief would mop no more.
But at length, just before dismissal, came a messenger.
“The master would like to see Jones in his study.”
On entering the study, the boy saw the supple, snakelike cane lying on the table.
“Well, Jones,” said the master, “I can go on warning you no longer. You have brought this upon yourself. But as it is your first visit here for such a purpose. I shall make your punishment somewhat milder. Hold out your hand; four on each!”
HARD ON THE WARDEN.
A phrenologist who has been touring the country and giving lectures in the art, tells the following “good one” on himself: He was in the habit of inviting people of different avocations to come upon the stage, and he would dilate upon and expound the peculiarities of their cranial construction. He had come to that portion of his lecture where he dealt with the criminal form of the cranium, and addressed the audience: