"B-a-r-bar-g-i-n-gin, bargin."
"Such a kind of a bargain, I suppose, as a poor scholar makes, when he wastes time enough in one winter to make him a good speller," continued the teacher. When the laughter had ceased, he put out another word.
"Spell spectacles."
"S-p-e-t-spet-i-speti-c-l-e-s-cles, speticles."
Some of the scholars really shouted at this new style of orthography.
"I suppose that is the kind of glasses that 'old speticles' wears," said the teacher. "You do not appear to entertain a very good opinion of him. You may spell respectable."
"I shan't spell any more," answered Samuel in an insolent manner.
"Shan't spell any more! I command you to spell respectable."
"I shan't spell it," replied Samuel more defiantly.
In another instant the teacher seized him by the collar, and with one desperate effort sent him half across the school-room. He hit the chair in his progress and knocked it over, and the teacher hit his own foot against the corner of the platform on which the desk was raised, and stumbled, though he did not fall. From this, the report went abroad that there was a sort of mélee in school, and the teacher was flung upon the floor in the scuffle. By the time Samuel found himself on his back, the teacher stood over him with what the young rebel called a cugel (cudgel) in his letter, saying,