she would stop the lesson and tell the children about Germany: what a
beautiful, good country it was, so trim and orderly, with such pleasant
customs, and all the people sensible and energetic and healthy. There
was "Music" again in the German class, which was another alleviation;
though it was the same old "Star Spangled Banner" over again. Ramsey
was tired of the song and tired of "My Country 'Tis of Thee"; they were
bores, but it was amusing to sing them in German. In German they sounded
"sort o' funny," so he didn't mind this bit of the day's work.

Half an hour later there arrived his supreme trial of this particular
morning. Arithmetic then being the order of business before the house,
he was sent alone to the blackboard, supposedly to make lucid the proper
reply to a fatal conundrum in decimals, and under the glare and focus of
the whole room he breathed heavily and itched everywhere; his brain at
once became sheer hash. He consumed as much time as possible in getting
the terms of the problem stated in chalk; then, affecting to be critical
of his own handiwork, erased what he had done and carefully wrote it
again. After that, he erased half of it, slowly retraced the figures,
and stepped back as if to see whether perspective improved their
appearance. Again he lifted the eraser.

"Ramsey Milholland!"

"Ma'am?"

"Put down that eraser!"

"Yes'm. I just thought--"

Sharply bidden to get forward with his task, he explained in a feeble