t the second word. I told him that was my trouble,
too. Then we asked the Greek that runs the place and he told us it said
that shines on Sundays and holidays were ten cents. Of course, Horace
isn't a specialist in Greek, but still he's been through college, and
what I say is--"

"I don't believe the men who wrote the stuff really understood it," said
Clint.

"Oh, they understood a little of it, all right. They could sign their
names, probably. The only consolation I find is this, Clint. A couple of
hundred years from now, when everyone is talking Esperanto or some other
universal language, the kids will have to study English. Can't you see
them grinding over the Orations of William Jennings Bryan and wondering
why the dickens anyone ever wanted to talk such a silly language? That's
when we get our revenge, Clint. We won't be around to see it, but it'll
be there."

Clint had to smile at the picture Amy drew, but he didn't find as much
consolation as Amy pretended to, and Xenophon didn't come any easier. He
was heartily glad when the study-hour came to an end and he could
conscientiously close his books.

The termination of that hour was almost invariably announced by the
dismal squawking of Penny Durkin's fiddle. Sometimes it was to be heard
in the afternoon, but not always, for Penny was a very busy youth. He
was something of a "shark" at lessons, was a leading light in the
Debating Circle and conducted a second-hand business in all sorts of
things from a broken tooth-mug to a brass bed. Penny bought and sold and
traded and, so rumour declared, made enough to nearly pay his tuition
each year. If you wanted a rug or a table or a chair or a picture or a
broken-down bicycle or a pair of football pants you went to Penny, and
it was a dollar to a dime that Penny either had in his possession, or
could take you to someone else who had, the very thing you were looking
for. If you paid cash you got it reasonably cheap--or you did if you
knew enough to bargain craftily--and if you wanted credit Penny charged
you a whole lot more and waited on you promptly for the instalment at
the first of each month. And besides these activities Penny was a
devoted student of music.

He was an odd-looking fellow, tall and thin, with a lean face from which
a pair of pale and near-sighted eyes peered forth from behind
rubber-rimmed spectacles. His hair was almost black and was always in
need of trimming, and his garments--he seldom wore tro