This, to be sure, proved nothing, but in an unguarded
moment, Mr. Smith had ventured to answer a question himself, and his
answer was ludicrously incorrect.
The schoolroom was a moderate-sized, dreary-looking room, with
another smaller room opening out of it, which was used as a separate
recitation room.
"Here is a vacant desk," said Mr. Crabb, pointing out one centrally
situated.
"I think that will do. Who sits at the next desk?"
"Mr. Smith's nephew."
"Oh, that big bully I saw on the playground?"
"Hush!" said Crabb, apprehensively. "Mr. Smith would not like to
have you speak so of his nephew."
"So, Mr. Crabb is afraid of the cad," soliloquized Hector. "I
suppose I may think what I please about him," he added, smiling
pleasantly.
"Ye-es, of course; but, Master Roscoe, let me advise you to be
prudent."
"Is he in your class?"
"Yes."
"Is he much of a scholar?"
"I don't think he cares much for Latin and Greek," answered Mr.
Crabb. "But I must ring the bell.
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