Tootle, ma'am, you seem to forget that I'm a gentleman, and have a
gentleman's susceptibilities. When I treat _you_ with disrespect,
ma'am, pray tell me of ut, and I'll inform you you speak an
untruth!'"

Waymark smiled, with the result that the expression of furious wrath
immediately passed from his colleague's countenance, giving place to
a broad grin.

"Waymark, look here!" exclaimed the Irishman, snatching up a piece
of chalk, and proceeding to draw certain outlines upon a
black-board. "Here's Tootle, a veritable Goliath;--here's me, as
it were David. Observe; Tootle holds in his hand his 'little
compendium,' raised in haughty superciliousness. Observe me with the
ruler!--I am on tiptoe; I am taking aim; there is wrath in every
sinew of my arrum! My arrum descends on the very centre of Tootle's
bald pate--"

"Mr. O'Gree!"

The tableau was most effective. Unnoticed by either the Irishman or
Waymark, the door had opened behind them, and there had appeared a
little red-faced woman, in slatternly dress. It was Mrs. Tootle. She
had overheard almost the whole of O'Gree's vivid comment upon his
graphic illustration, in silence, until at length she could hold her
peace no longer, and gave utterance to the teacher's name in a voice
which trembled with rage and mortification.

"Mr. O'Gree! Are you aware of my presence, sir?"