him, for a moment, utterly nonplussed.

He was vexed that he had not been able to get into a fight with a man
who had left him alone; and yet, as he raised his eyes cautiously, to
make sure that Mr. Bright was really gone, he smiled in spite of
himself, at the absurdity of the situation! He felt his cheeks wrinkle
up, good-naturedly, as the smile crept over his face from above (I
think smiles do come from above), and was angrier than ever. He
checked his rising good nature with an oath, and raising his arm, he
struck the desk a tremendous blow, that made the cover bound again, and
the room echo with the thud. Then he rose, grinding his teeth as he
got up, and slowly and noisily banged his way out of the room.

Not till three days after this did he appear again in the school room.
During this time he loafed about the town and took particular pains to
be where Mr. Bright could see him and have a chance to reprove him.
But though his teacher met him several times, he gave "Dodd" no other
word than such greeting as true politeness dictated. This was worse
than ever, for the boy, who was really "spoiling for a row" by this
time. The machine, or the machine man, would have had a row with him.
Mr. Bright was not a machine man.

Did you ever hook a big fish, when angling with a light rod and line?
If you ever did, and have succeeded in landing your game, then you know
something about the situation which I am now noting. You see, when the
odds are so much against you, you have to do as you can, and not as you
would like to, with the wily fellow at the other end of your weak
tackle. That is, if you accomplish what you ought to wish to
accomplish, if you fish at all!