the desk into which he had compressed his long, lank form, he made his
speech. Long John was a great admirer of the master, but for all that,
and perhaps because of that, he allowed himself no warmer words of
commendation than that he was well pleased with the way in which
the children had conducted themselves. "They have done credit to
themselves," he said, "and to their teacher. And indeed I am sorry he is
leaving us, for, so far, I have heard no complaints in the Section."

The other trustees followed in the path thus blazed out for them by Long
John. They were all well pleased with the examination, and they were
all sorry to lose the master, and they had heard no complaints. It
was perfectly understood that no words of praise could add to the high
testimony that they "had heard no complaints."

The dominie's speech was a little more elaborate. Somewhat reluctantly
he acknowledged that the school had acquitted itself with "very
considerable credit," especially the "arith-MET-ic" class, and indeed,
considering all the circumstances, Mr. Munro was to be congratulated
upon the results of his work in the Section. But the minister's warm
expression of delight at the day's proceedings, and of regret at the
departure of the master, more than atoned for the trustees' cautious
testimony, and the dominie's somewhat grudging praise.

Then came the moment of the day. A great stillness fell upon the school
as the master rose to make his farewell speech. But before he could
say a word, up from their seats walked Betsy Dan and Thomas Finch,
and ranged themselves before him. The whole assemblage tingled with
suppressed excitement. The great secret with which they had been
burdening themselves for the past few weeks was now to be out. Slowly
Thomas extracted the manuscript from his trousers pocket, and smoothed