"He--he ain't feeling very well," was the considerate
rejoinder.

"Once there was a little boy who was born in Virginia--" began
Miss Minerva.

"Born in a manger," repeated the inattentive little boy to
himself, "I knows who that was." So, this important question
settled in his mind, he gave himself up to the full enjoyment
of his chum and to the giving and receiving secret signals, the
pleasure of which was decidedly enhanced by the fear of imminent
detection.

"Father, I can not tell a lie, I did it with my little
hatchet,--"
read the thin, monotonous voice at his elbow.

Billy laughed aloud--at that minute Jimmy was standing on
his head waving two chubby feet in the air.

"William," said his aunt reprovingly, peering at him over her
spectacles, "I don't see anything to laugh at,"--and she did
not, but then she was in ignorance of the little conspiracy.

"He was a good and dutiful son and he studied his lessons so
well that when he was only seventeen years old he was employed
to survey vast tracts of land in Virginia--"

Miss Minerva emphasized every word, hoping thus to impress