"He's lookin' pretty spry yet, ain't he, boys?" said Isaac Bolum. He
stood before me, leaning over till his hands clasped his knees, and
peered into my face, smiling. "The teacher ain't changed a bit."
"Thank you for the reception," said I. "But explain. What's this all
about?"
Elmer Spiker folded the county paper and came around to our side of the
stove. There he struck his favorite attitude, which was always made
most effective by the endless operation of putting his spectacles in
their case--pulling them out--waving them--_ad infinitum_. For in our
valley spectacles are the sceptre of the sovereign intellect.
"They was talkin' about lickin' the teacher," Elmer said, "and sech
talkin' I never heard. It was the nonsensicalest yet. The way them
boys was tellin' about the teachers they had knowed made me feel for
your life when I seen you come in. I thought they'd fall on you like
so many wolves."
"Now see here, Elmer Spiker," shouted Henry Holmes, "that's an
injestice. I never said I'd licked the teacher when I was a boy.
Pages:
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168