“Yes, sir;” “No, sir,” they answered, variously.

“All who do understand may take their seats, as I wish to give as little explanation as possible.  The more you can depend upon yourselves, the better.”

Those who saw clearly what was to be done left the class, and the teacher continued his explanation to those who were left behind.  He made the plan perfectly clear to them by taking a particular noun and running it through the table, showing what should be written opposite to the word in all the columns, and then dismissed them.

The class separated, as every class would, in such a case, with a strong feeling of interest in the work before them.  It was not so difficult as to perplex them, and yet it required attention and care.  They were interested and pleased—­pleased with the effort which it required them to make, and they anticipated, with interest and pleasure, the time of coming again to the class to report and compare their work.

When the time for the class came, the teacher addressed them somewhat as follows: 

“Before looking at your slates, I am going to predict what the faults are.  I have not seen any of your work, but shall judge altogether from my general knowledge of school-boys, and the difficulties I know they meet with.  Do you think I shall succeed?”

The scholars made no reply, and an unskillful teacher would imagine that time spent in such remarks would be wholly wasted.  By no means.  The influence of them was to awaken universal interest in the approaching examination of the slates.  Every scholar would be intent, watching, with eager interest, to see whether the imagined faults would be found upon his work.  The class was, by that single pleasant remark, put into the best possible state for receiving the criticisms of the teacher.

“The first fault which I suppose will be found is that some are unfinished.”

The scholars looked surprised.  They did not expect to have that called a fault.

“How many plead guilty to it?”

A few raised their hands, and the teacher continued: 

“I suppose that some will be found partly effaced.  The slates were not laid away carefully, or they were not clean, so that the writing is not distinct.  How many find this the case with their work?”

“I suppose that, in some cases, the lines will not be perpendicular, but will slant, probably toward the left, like writing.

“I suppose, also, that, in some cases, the writing will be careless, so that I can not easily read it.  How many plead guilty to this?”

After mentioning such other faults as occurred to him, relating chiefly to the form of the table, and the mere mechanical execution of the work, he said,

“I think I shall not look at your slates to-day.  You can all see, I have no doubt, how you can considerably improve them in mechanical execution in your next lesson; and I suppose you would a little prefer that I should not see your first imperfect efforts.  In fact, I should rather not see them.  At the next recitation they probably will be much better.”