“And do you not teach occasionally under the hedge behind the house here?”
“Granted,” replied Mat; “and now where's your vis consequentiae?”
“Yes,” subjoined the other, “produce your vis consequentiae; but any one may know by a glance that the divil a much of it's about you.”
The Englishman himself was rather at a loss for the vis consequentiae, and replied, “Why don't you live, and learn, and teach like civilized beings, and not assemble like wild asses—pardon me, my friend, for the simile—at least like wild colts, in such clusters behind the ditches?”
“A clusther of wild coults!” said Mat; “that shows what you are; no man of classical larnin' would use such a word. If you had stuck at the asses, we know it's a subject you're at home in—ha! ha! ha!—but you brought the joke on yourself, your honor—that is, if it is a joke—ha! ha! ha!”
“Permit me, sir,” replied the strange master, “to ax your honor one question—did you receive a classical education? Are you college-bred?”
“Yes,” replied the Englishman; “I can reply to both in the affirmative. I'm a Cantabrigian.”
“You are a what?” asked Mat.
“I am a Cantabrigian.”
“Come, sir, you must explain yourself, if you plase. I'll take my oath that's neither a classical nor a mathematical tarm.”