lessons, and at the same time I bid you good-by."

With the closing words, Professor Granville made a low bow, and placed
his hand on his heart, as he had done probably fifty times before, on
delivering the same speech, which was the stereotyped form in which he
closed his evening schools.

There was a thumping of feet, mingled with a clapping of hands, as the
professor closed his speech, and a moment later a boy of sixteen,
occupying one of the front seats, rose, and, advancing with easy
self-possession, drew from his pocket a gold pencil case, containing a
pencil and pen, and spoke as follows:

"Professor Granville, the members of your writing class, desirous of
testifying their appreciation of your services as teacher, have
contributed to buy this gold pencil case, which, in their name, I have
great pleasure in presenting to you. Will you receive it with our best
wishes for your continued success as a teacher of penmanship?"

With these words, he handed the pencil to the professor and returned to
his seat.

The applause that ensued was terriffic, causing the dust to rise from
the floor where it had lain undisturbed till the violent attack of two
hundred feet raised it in clouds, through which the figure of the
professor was still visible, with his right arm again extended.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he commenced, "I cannot give fitting utterance
to the emotions that fill my heart at this most unexpected tribute of
regard and mark of appreciation of my humble services. Believe me, I