THE PROFESSOR.
By Clarence Cook.
The Professor seated himself at the luncheon-table with an air of importance. He was twelve years old, but he might have been taken for six, or even for three, he looked so wise. The children’s nurse poured herself out a cup of tea. The teapot was too full, and a large drop fell upon the shining mahogany table. The Professor looked at the drop with evident pleasure.
“Stop, nurse!” he cried, as she was about to wipe it up with her napkin. “Let’s see who can take up that tea without touching it, and leave the table dry!”
“Thuck it up,” said Pip.
“Mamma doesn’t like you to drink tea,” said nurse.
“Besides, that would be touching it,” said Tom.
“Take it up with a thpoon,” said Pip.