"N-o-o-oh m-a-a-an."

"Are you afraid of the Principal?"

"N-o-o-oh m-a-a-an."

"Are you afraid,"--with a slight pause, during which a native hue of
honesty was foully done to death--"of the kind gentleman we are all so
glad to see?"

"N-o-o-oh m-a-a-an."

"Well, then what is the matter with you? Are you sick? Don't you think
you would like to go home to your mother?"

"No-o-o-oh m-a-a-an; I ain't sick. I tells you 'scuse."

The repeated imitation of a sorrowful goat was too much for the
Honorable Tim.

"Bring that boy to me," he commanded. "I'll show you how to manage
refractory and rebellious children."

With much difficulty and many assurances that the gentleman was not
going to hurt him, Miss Bailey succeeded in untwining Morris's legs from
the supports of the desk and in half carrying, half leading him up to
the chair of state. An ominous silence had settled over the room. Eva
Gonorowsky was weeping softly, and the redoubtable Isidore Applebaum was
stiffened in a frozen calm.