attracted Mr. Wilmot’s notice, and going toward her, he very gently said,
"I presume you have no objection to letting me see what you have written
here."

She at first put out her hand as if to prevent him from taking it, but at
last she suffered him to do so, but tried to look interestingly confused.
Mr. Wilmot read what was written and then smiling passed it to his friend,
who looked at it and saw that it was a piece of tolerably good blank
verse.

"Is this your composition, Julia?" said Mr. Miller.

"Yes, sir," she replied.

"And have your ’notes’ always been of this nature?" asked Mr. Wilmot.

"That, or something similar," said Julia. "I find no difficulty in
learning my lesson by once reading, and as I am very fond of poetry, I
like to employ the rest of my time in trying my powers at it!"

Mr. Wilmot looked at Mr. Miller, as much as to say, "I hope you are
satisfied," and then proceeded to hear Julia’s lesson, which was
well-learned and well-recited. Julia’s recitation being over, Fanny’s
class was called. Fanny came hesitatingly, for she knew her lesson was but
poorly learned. That morning she had found under her desk a love letter
from Bill Jeffrey, and she and some of the other girls had spent so much
time in laughing over it, and preparing an answer, that she had scarcely
thought of her lesson. She got through with it, however, as well as she
could, and was returning to her seat when Mr. Miller called her to him and
said reprovingly, "Fanny, why did you not have a better lesson?"