lord teacher, whenever you need something you will let your servant know. I kiss your sacred skirt, lord teacher; take as good care of him as if he was your own son. Good-bye, sir." As soon as he leaves the room the teacher murmurs in a low voice, "You stingy hog, I know what character you are. You promise very easily, but you are not going to fill it. Pay the regular dues and let the extra be a flame to your soul. I knew your cursed father very well; may he not find rest in his grave; he was a man like pieces of nail (useless); are you not the puppy of that dog? But anyhow I have your ears now in my hand. I will make you obliged to pay my wages. Now, boys, to your books; when you see a visitor you leave your work and listen to us like sheep listen to the voice of a flute. Go on! to-morrow is Friday; you have to finish your lessons to-day, else I am not going to send you home to-night. Go on! Read aloud! . . . louder! . . . still louder! . . . that's it."
