He wanted to take a little of the glass of water that stood by the Presidentboardeducation--just one little sip--for his throat felt so dry and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. But he couldn't.
He made the fine bow all right, and Mother looked at Father as much as to say,--
"There, I knew our boy could do it."
And wonderfully he got through the first line,--"The boy stood on the burning deck."
But then he just had to look at Fatty, and Fatty had just put a peanut up to his mouth--as a sort of signal, I guess.
"The boy stood on the burning deck," repeated Jehosophat, forgetting the next line, and so having to stick to the first. He couldn't think of anything but Fatty's grinning mouth and that peanut.
"The boy stood on the burning deck," he called, louder than before.
"The boy stood on the burning deck," still louder.
"Yes, yes, my little man," said the Presidentboardeducation, still with that smile that Jehosophat hated so, and before he knew it he was shouting right back at the spectacles:--