"What! A sudden indisposition? Too bad, Lentz, too bad. Now we'll try Lazelle. Lazelle won't fail. Lazelle has not failed for a week."
The Gutter Pup rose in a panic, guessed and fell horribly over an ordinary participle.
"Quite mysterious!" said The Roman, himself once more. "Sudden change of weather. Mead, lend us the assistance of your splendid faculties. What? Unable to rise? Too bad. Dear me—dear me—quite the feeling of home again—quite homelike."
The carnage was terrific, the scythe passed over them with the old-time sweep, laying them low. Once maliciously, when Fatty Harris was on his feet, The Roman asked:
"Top of page, fifth word, gerund or gerundive?"
"Gerund," said Harris instantly.
"Ah, pardon——" said The Roman, bringing into play both eyebrows. "My mistake, Harris, entirely my mistake. Go down to the next paragraph and recognize a gerundive. No? Sit down—gently. Too bad—old methods must make way for new ideas. Too bad, then you did have one chance in two and now, where in the whole wide world will you find a friend to help you? Class is dismissed."
"I told you you couldn't beat The Roman," said the Tennessee Shad.
"I made him change his system, though," said Dink gloriously, "and he never caught me."
"Well, if you have, how are you going to spot the gerund and the gerundive?"