“Pray, silence. Mr. Manhug, have you ever been sent for to a bad incised wound?”
“Yes, sir, when I was an apprentice: a man using a chopper cut off his hand.”
“And what did you do?”
“Cut off myself for the governor, like a two-year old.”
“But now you have no governor, what plan would you pursue in a similar case?”
“Send for the nearest doctor—call him in.”
“Yes, yes, but suppose he wouldn’t come?”
“Call him out, sir.”
“Pshaw! you are all quite children,” exclaims the teacher. “Mr. Simpson, of what is bone chemically composed?”
“Of earthy matter, or phosphate of lime, and animal matter, or gelatine.”