S

Such pounds and pounds of apples fill
My slate--what is the price you'd spend?
You scratch the figures out until
You cry upon the dividend.
I'd break the slate and scream for joy
If I did Latin like a boy!

This kind of thing, of course, made lessons much jollier. It is
something to know that the person who is teaching you sees that it is
not all plain sailing for you, and does not think that it is just your
stupidness that makes you not know your lessons till you've learned
them!

Then as Jim's leg got better it was very pleasant to go up and sit with
him and hear tales about his school life and the other boys. There
was one boy, named Parr, of whom Jim seemed to have formed the lowest
possible opinion, and another boy named Wigsby Minor, for whose views
Jim had a great respect. Also there were three brothers named Paley, and
the youngest was called Paley Terts, and was much given to fighting.

Peter drank in all this with deep joy, and Mother seemed to have
listened with some interest, for one day she gave Jim a sheet of paper
on which she had written a rhyme about Parr, bringing in Paley and
Wigsby by name in a most wonderful way, as well as all the reasons Jim
had for not liking Parr, and Wigsby's wise opinion on the matter. Jim
was immensely pleased. He had never had a rhyme written expressly for
him before. He read it till he knew it by heart and then he sent it to
Wigsby, who liked it almost as much as Jim did. Perhaps you may like it,
too.

THE NEW BOY

His name is Parr: he says that he
Is given bread and milk for tea.
He says his father killed a bear.
He says his mother cuts his hair.

He wears goloshes when it's wet.
I've heard his people call him "Pet"!
He has no proper sense of shame;
He told the chaps his Christian name.

He cannot wicket-keep at all,
He's frightened of a cricket ball.
He reads indoors for hours and hours.
He knows the names of beastly flowers.

He says his French just like Mossoo--
A beastly stuck-up thing to do--
He won't keep _cave_, shirks his turn
And says he came to school to learn!

He won't play football, says it hurts;
He wouldn't fight with Paley Terts;
He couldn't whistle if he tried,
And when we laughed at him he cried!

Now Wigsby Minor says that Parr
Is only like all new boys are.
I know