red-headed, and had large red whiskers.

Herr Egger was a gentleman of very different exterior. Tall, thick,
ungainly, with a very heavy, stupid face, coarse hands, outrageous
lower extremities. A mass of coal-black hair seemed to weigh down
his head. His attire was un-English, and, one might suspect, had
been manufactured in some lonely cottage away in the remote Swiss
valley which had till lately been the poor fellow's home. Dr. Tootle
never kept his foreign masters long. His plan was to get hold of
some foreigner without means, and ignorant of English, who would
come and teach French or German in return for mere board and
lodging; when the man had learnt a little English, and was in a
position to demand a salary, he was dismissed, and a new professor
obtained. Egger had lately, under the influence of some desperate
delusion, come to our hospitable clime in search of his fortune. Of
languages he could not be said to know any; his French and his
German were of barbarisms all compact; English as yet he could use
only in a most primitive manner. He must have been the most unhappy
man in all London. Finding himself face to face with large classes
of youngsters accustomed to no kind of discipline, in whom every
word he uttered merely excited outrageous mirth, he was hourly
brought to the very verge of despair. Constitutionally he was
lachrymose; tears came from him freely when distress had reached a
climax, and the contrast between his unwieldy form and this weakness
of demeanour supplied inexhaustible occasion for mirth throughout
the school. His hours of freedom were spent in abysmal brooding.

Waymark entered in good spirits. At the sight of him, Mr. O'Gree
started from the fireside, snatched up the poker, brandished it
wildly about his head, and burst into vehement exclamations.