of course; anybody ought to know that--c-r-o-f-t, croft, Bancroft! What
does that apostrophe mean? I mean, what does that punctuation mark
between t and s stand for? You don't know? Take that, then! (whack).
What comes after Bancroft? Spell it! Spell it, I tell you, and don't be
all night about it! Can't, eh? Well, read it then; if you can't spell
it, read it. H-i-s-t-o-r-y-ry, history; Bancroft's History of the United
States! Now what does that spell? I mean, spell that! Spell it! Oh, go
away! Go to bed! Stupid, stupid child," he added as the little boy went
weeping out of the room, "he'll never learn anything so long as he
lives. I declare he has tired me all out, and I used to teach school in
Trivoli township, too. Taught one whole winter in district number three
when Nick Worthington was county superintendent, and had my salary--look
here, Mary, what do you find in that English grammar to giggle about?
You go to bed, too, and listen to me--if Rollo can't read that whole
book clear through without making a mistake to-morrow night, you'll wish
you had been born without a back, that's all."

The following morning, when Rollo's father drove away to business, he
paused a moment as Rollo stood at the gate for a final good-by kiss--for
Rollo's daily good-byes began at the door and lasted as long as his
father was in sight--Mr. Holliday said:

"Some day, Rollo, you will thank me for teaching you to read."

"Yes, sir," replied Rollo, respectfully, and then added, "but not this
day."

Rollo's head, though it had here and there transient bumps consequent
upon foot-ball practice, was not naturally or permanently hilly. On the
contrary, it was quite level.