"I want to go out, if you plase, sir."

"Is that the way you ax me, you vagabone?"

"I want to go out, sir,"--(pulling down the fore lock.)

"Yes, that's something dacenter; by the sowl of Newton, that invinted
fluxions, if ever you forgot to make a bow again, I'll nog the enthrils
out of you--wait till the Pass comes in."

Then comes the spelling lesson. "Come, boys, stand up to the spelling
lesson."

"Mickey," says one urchin, "show me your book, till I look at my word.
I'm fifteenth."

"Wait till I see my own."

"Why do you crush for?"

"That's my place."

"No, it's not."

"Sir, spake to---------I'll tell the masther."

"What's the matther there?"

"Sir, he won't let me into my place."