Gladys and Johnnie were busy at the electrifying machine, and with a rustling and crackling noise the “spunky little flashes,” as Swan called them, kept leaping from one leaden knob to another.

Miss Crampton saw a youth sitting on a low chair, with his legs on rather a higher one; the floor under him was strewed with shavings, which looked, Swan thought, “as natural as life,” meaning that they looked just as if he had made them by his own proper whittling.

The youth in question was using a large pruning knife on a log that he held rather awkwardly on his knee.  He had a soft hat, which had been disposed over one eye.  Miss Crampton gave the sparks as wide a berth as she could, and as she advanced, “Well, sir,” Swan was saying in obedience to his instructions, “if you’ve been brought up a republican, I spose you can’t help it.  But whatever your notions may be, Old Master is staunch.  He’s all for Church and Queen and he hates republican institootions like poison.  Which is likewise my own feelings to a T.”

No one had taken any notice of Miss Crampton, and she stopped amazed.

“Wall,” answered the youth, diligently whittling, “I think small potatoes of ye-our lo-cation myself—­but ye-our monarchical government, I guess, hez not yet corrupted the he-eart of the Grand.  He handed onto me and onto his hair a tip which”—­here he put his hand in his waistcoat pocket, and fondly regarded two or three coins; then feigning to become aware of Miss Crampton’s presence, “Augustus John, my yound friend,” he continued, “ef yeow feel like it, I guess yeou’d better set a chair for the school marm—­for it is the school marm, I calculate?”

Here Miss Christie, radiant with joy and malice, could not conceal her delight, but patted him on the shoulder, and then hastily retreated into the background, lest she should spoil the sport; while as Johnnie, having small command of countenance, did not dare to turn from the window out of which he was pretending to look, Crayshaw rose himself, shook hands with Miss Crampton, and setting a chair for her, began to whittle again.

“Wall,” he then said, “and heow do yeou git along with ye-our teaching, marm?  Squire thinks a heap of ye-our teaching, as I he-ear, specially ye-our teaching of the eye-talian tongue.”

“Did I understand you to be arguing with the gardener when I came in, respecting the principles and opinions of this family?” inquired Miss Crampton, who had now somewhat recovered from her surprise, and was equal to the resenting of indignities.

“Wall, mebby I was, but it’s a matter of science that we’re mainly concerned with, I guess, this morning—­science, electricity.  We’re gitting on first-rate—­those rods on the stairs——­”

“Yes?” exclaimed Miss Crampton.

“We air of a scientific turn, we air—­Augustus John and I—­fixing wires to every one of them.  They air steep, those steps,” he continued pensively.