n the night, and one of the students, whose organ of humour
had gained at the expense of that of veneration, had, before the
arrival of the professor, gathered a ball of the snow, and thrown it
against the ceiling with such forceful precision, that it stuck right
over the centre of the chair. This was perhaps the first time that such
a trick had been dared in the first class, belonging more properly to
the advanced depravity of the second or third. When the air began to
get warm, the snow began to drop upon the head of the old professor;
and this was the cause of his troubled glance at the ceiling. But the
moment he looked up, Alec, seeing what was the matter, and feeling all
his natural loyalty roused, sprang from his seat, and rushing out of
the class-room, returned with a long broom which the sacrist had been
using to clear foot-paths across the quadrangle. The professor left his
chair, and Alec springing on the desk, swept the snow from the ceiling.
He then wiped the seat with his handkerchief and returned to his place.
The gratitude of the old man shone in his eyes. True, he would only
have had to send for the sacrist to rescue him; but here was an
atonement for the insult, offered by one of the students themselves.
"Thank you, Mr Forbes," he stammered; "I am ek-ek-ek--exceedingly
obliged to you."
The professor was a curious, kindly little man--lame, with a brown wig,
a wrinkled face, and a long mouth, of which he only made use of the
half on the right side to stammer out humorous and often witty
sayings--at least so they appeared to those who had grace enough to
respect his position and his age. As often as reference is made in my
hearing to Charles Lamb and his stutter, up comes the face of dear old
Professor Fraser, and I hear him once more stammering out some joke,
the very fun of which had its source in kindliness. Somehow the stutter
never interfered with the point of the joke: that always came with a
rush. He seemed, while hesitating on some unimportant syllable, to be
arranging what was to follow and strike the blow.
"Gentlemen," he continued upon this occasion, "the Scripture says
you're to heap c-c-c-coals of fire on your enemy's head. When you are
to heap drops of water on your friend's w-w-wig, the Scripture doesn't
say."
The same evening Alec received a note from him asking him to breakfast
with him the following morning, which was Saturday, and consequently a
holiday. It was usual with the pro
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