licks it, he loves it, he sniffs it, he revels in it.
He wishes he could drink it, and the ink-stands were wide enough for
him to get his fist right into it.

This boy is a most clever little fellow. When you can see his eyes,
they are sparkling with mischief and intelligence. A beautiful, dirty
face; a lovely boy, though an "unwashed."

* * * * *

A somewhat objectionable boy, although he is not responsible for his
shortcomings, is the one who has been educated at home up to twelve or
fourteen years of age.

Before you can garnish his brain, you have to sweep it. You have to
replace the French of his nursery governess--who has acquired it on the
_Continong_--by a serious knowledge of _avoir_ and _etre_.

He comes to school with a testimonial from his mother, who is a good
French scholar, to the effect that he speaks French fluently.

You ask him for the French of

"_It is twelve o'clock_,"

and he answers with assurance:

"_C'est douze heures_."

You ask him next for the French of

"_How do you do?_"

and he tells you:

"_Comment ca va-t-il?_"

You call upon him to spell it, and he has no hesitation about it:
"_Comment savaty_?"

You then test his knowledge of grammar by asking him the future of
_vouloir_, and you immediately obtain: "_Je voulerai_."

You tell him that his French is very shaky, and you decide on putting
him with the beginners.

The following day you find a letter awaiting you at school. It is from
his indignant mother. She informs you that she fears her little boy
will not learn much in the class you have put him in. He ought to be in
one of the advanced classes. He has read Voltaire[4] and can speak
French.

[4] Poor little chap!

She knows he can, she heard him at Boulogne, and he got on very well.
The natives there had no secrets for him; he could understand all they
said.

You feel it to be your duty not to comply with the lady's wishes, and
you have made a bitter enemy to yourself and the school.

This boy never takes for granted the truth of the statements you make
in the class-room. What you say may be all right; but when he gets home
he will ask his mamma if it is all true.

He is fond of arguing, and has no sympathy with his teacher. He tries
to find him at fault.

A favorite remark of his is this:

"Please, sir, you said the other day that so-and-so was right. Why do
you mark a mistake in my exer