The reading class was on duty, and "Dodd" was leading, as he had for
several months. The lesson for the day was "The Lone Indian," and
related the woes of that poor savage, who, in old age, returned to the
hunting grounds of his young manhood, only to find them gone, and in
their places villages and fenced farms.

"He leaned against a tree," the narrative continued, "Dodd" reading it
in a sympathetic tone, being greatly overcome by the story, "and gazed
upon the landscape that he had once known so well."

He paused suddenly, and a tear or two fell on his book.

"Stop!" exclaimed Amos Waughops, brandishing a long stick which he
always carried in his right hand and waved to and fro as he talked to
the children, as though he were a great general, in the heat of battle,
swinging his sword and urging his men to the charge, "What are you
crying about? Eh? Look up here! Look up, I say! Do you intend to
mind me?"

The boy's eyes were full of tears, but he looked up as he was bidden
and fixed his eyes on Amos. This was worse than ever, and the teacher
was more angry than before.

"See here, I'll ask you a question, if you are so mighty smart. The
book says that the Indian 'leaned against the tree.' Now, what is
meant by that?"

The question was so sudden and so senseless that "Dodd" essayed no
answer. This was Amos's opportunity.