that ever occurred to you, McKnight?'

Jacker shifted his feet uneasily, rolled his body, and, knowing that
nothing could aggravate his offence, answered sullenly:

'Oh, dry up!'

Mr. Ham grinned at the boy in silence for a few moments, and then
returned to his high stool and desk. Mr. Ham never made the slightest
effort to maintain before his scholars that dignity which is supposed to
be essential to the success of a pedagogue. In addressing the boys he
used their correct names, or the nicknames liberally bestowed upon them
by their mates, indiscriminately, and showed no resentment whatever when
he heard himself alluded to as Jo, or Hamlet, or the Beetle, his most
frequent appellations in the playground. He kept a black bottle in his
desk, at the neck of which he habitually refreshed himself before the
whole school; and he addressed the children with an elaborate and caustic
levity in a thin shaky voice quite twenty years too old for him. His
humour was thrown away upon the rising generation of Waddy, and might
have been supposed to be the cat-like pawing of a vicious mind; but Joel
Ham was not cruel, and although when occasion demanded he could use the
cane with exceeding smartness, he frequently overlooked misdemeanours
that might have justified an attack, and was never betrayed into
administering unmerited cuts even when his black bottle was empty and his
thirst most virulent.

In spite of his eccentricities and his weaknesses, and the fact that he
was neither respected nor dreaded, Ham brought his scholars on remarkably
well. There were three big classes in the room--first, third, and
fifth--and a higher and lower branch of each; he managed all, with the