"I was brought up on
plus and minus," he said, "and I've yet to meet the man who can get the
better of me. Now what do you think of that, Mr. Frye?"
Mr. Frye looked up, down, and around; then he began to polish his
spectacles. But he only said, "There's some good in that."
"There is indeed," said Mr. Barly, closing one eye, and nodding his
head a number of times. "There is indeed. But those days are over,
Mr. Frye. When I was a child I had the fear of God put into me. It
was put into me with a birch rod. But nowadays, Mr. Frye, the children
neglect their sums, and grow up wild as nettles. I don't know what
they're learning nowadays."
And he blew his nose again, as though to say, "What a pity."
"Ah," said Mr. Frye, wisely, "there's no good in _that_."
Mr. Jeminy knew his own faults, and what was expected of him: he was
not severe enough. As he walked home that evening, he said to himself:
"I must be more severe; my pupils tease each other almost under my
nose. To-day as I wrote sums on the black-board, I watched out of the
corner of my eye.
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