Pupil Teacher (restraining sharp boy's ardor).—Of course it is! Thirty-eight pence. There they are! (writing 38 in slate-corner.) Now what do you make of thirty-eight pence? Thirty-eight pence, how much? (Dull young man slowly considers and gives it up, under a week.) How much, you? (to sleepy boy, who stares and says nothing.) How much, you?
Sharp Boy.—Three-and-twopence!
Pupil Teacher.—Three-and-twopence. How do I put down three-and-twopence?
Sharp Boy.—You puts down the two, and you carries the three.
Pupil Teacher.—Very good. Where do I carry the three?
Reckless Guesser.—T'other side the slate!
Sharp Boy.—You carries him to the next column on the left hand, and adds him on!
Pupil Teacher.—And adds him on! and eight and three's eleven, and eight's nineteen, and seven's what?
—And so on.
The best and most spirited teacher was a young man, himself reclaimed through the agency of this school from the lowest depths of misery and debasement, whom the committee were about to send out to Australia. He appeared quite to deserve the interest they took in him, and his appearance and manner were a strong testimony to the merits of the establishment.