is-lands and promonitaries, thismuses and hemispheries. The lad misunderstood that smile, and his heart was glad for the unexpected reception of a little complacency from the master. But he was not long in error.
"Is-lands, eh? Thismuses, eh? Take this book and see if you can find any is-lands and promonitaries, and then bring them to me. I want to see them things, I do. Find 'em, if you please."
Brinkly took the book, and it would have melted the heart of any other man to see the deep despair of his heart as he looked on it and was spelling over to himself the words as he came to them.
"Mr. Meadows," he said in pleading tones, "I thought it was is-land. Here it is, I-s-is-l-a-n-d-land, Is-land"; and he looked into his face beseechingly.
"Is-land, eh? Is-land! Now, thismuses and promonitaries and hemispheries—"
"Mr. Meadows, I did not know how to pronounce them words. I asked you how to pronounce 'em and you would n't tell me; and I asked Allen, and he told me the way I said them."
"I believe that to be a lie." Brinkly's face reddened, and his breathing was fast and hard. He looked at the master as but once or twice before during the term, but made no answer.
At that moment Allen leaned carelessly on his desk, his elbows resting on it, and chin on his hands, and said dryly, "Yess, I did tell him so."
The man reddened a little. After a moment's pause, however, he said: "How often have I got to tell you not to ask anybody but me how to pronounce words? That'll do, sir; sit down, sir."
