"I hope we shall be friends," he said, in a voice full of kindliness.
"All I want is to----"

But at this point Riley picked up his slate and book, and turned away.
The master snapped his fingers, but Riley affected not to hear him.

"That young man will put down his slate." The master spoke in a low
tone, as one who expected to be obeyed, and the slate was reluctantly
put upon the desk.

"When I am talking to you, I want you to hear," he went on, very
quietly. "I am paid to teach you. One of the things I have to teach you
is good manners. You," pointing to Riley, "are old enough to know better
than to take your slate when your teacher is speaking, but perhaps you
have never been taught what are good manners. I'll excuse you this time.
Now, you all see those switches hanging here behind me. I did not put
them there. I do not say that I shall not use them. Some boys have to
be whipped, I suppose,--like mules,--and when I have tried, I may find
that I cannot get on without the switches, but I hope not to have to use
them."

Here Riley, encouraged by the master's mildness and irritated by the
rebuke he had received, began to make figures on his slate.

"Bring me that slate," said the teacher.

Riley was happy that he had succeeded in starting a row. He took his
slate and his arithmetic, and shuffled up to the master in a
half-indolent, half-insolent way.

"Why do you take up your work when I tell you not to?" asked the new
teacher.

"Because I didn't want to waste all my morning. I wanted to do my sums."

"You are a remarkably industrious youth, I take it." The young master
looked Riley over, as he said this, from head to foot. The whole school
smiled, for there was no lazier boy than this same Riley. "I suppose,"
the teacher continued, "that you are the best scholar in school--the
bright and shining light of Greenbank."

Here there was a general titter at Riley.

"I cannot have you sit away down at the other end of the school-room and
hide your excellent example from the rest. Stand right up here by me and
cipher, that all the school may see how industrious you are."

Riley grew very red in the face and pretended to "cipher," holding his
book in his hand.

"Now," said the new teacher, "I have but just one rule for this school,
and I will write it on the blackboard that all may see it."

He took chalk and wrote:

DO RIGHT.

"That is all. Let us go to our lessons."

For the first two hours that Ri