"Hypocrite!" shouted the elder to the curly-headed youngster at the head of the Cobbleville line.
"H-i-p"—
"That'll do. Give an example, and take your seat."
"Example," piped the boy, "puttin' a bad cent in the contribution-box."
"Next. Hypocrite."
The bright little girl at the head of the Benton aisle spelled it correctly, and Elder Evans raised his head high to smile on her.
The words were now given out with something like rapidity; and there was a constant stream of boys and girls walking up the aisles, and of others coming in the opposite directions. Every one of the latter seemed to be muttering,—
"I knew that word just as well!"
It was well that the front pews had been kept for unlucky spellers; but a seat in one of them was hardly looked upon as a prize.
"Port," said Corry gleefully, "they're thinning out fast. Think of a girl and two boys going down on such a word as 'rotation'!"