A—­All men slip and fall back into old ways, more or less (chiefly more), when striving to change a course of life that has become fixed by habit.

B—­“Dodd” Weaver (Socrates) was a man (or near enough so to come within the range of the first term above).

C—­Therefore; “Dodd” Weaver (Soc.) slipped and fell back into old ways, more or less (chiefly more), when striving to change a course of life that had become fixed by habit.  The form will bear study.

I am glad to record just here, too, though it may be counted a digression, that for once the facts in the case and the logical conclusion reached concerning the same tally exactly.  What a blessed thing it would have been for the martyrs, all through the ages, if there had always been such happy coincidence between logical sequence and actual facts!  But what were the world without martyrs?

I have heard it said that pure logic has a mission to perform in this world.  The record of its doings so far shows that, chiefly, it has been engaged in reaching conclusions that did not tally with actualities, and in leading its devotees to persecute those who accepted facts rather than its ultimatum.  It is this that has fostered more persecution in the past than all other forms of bigotry combined.  Even religion herself has often fallen a prey to this false god, and the most relentless of religious wars have been waged with a logical difference as a basis.

Nevertheless, pure logic has its use.  I have used it to prove that “Dodd” Weaver did not spring from groveling to grace without some set-backs, I have done obeisance to logic.  I can now move on peaceably, I trust.

Mr. Bright made a point with “Dodd” by his quick discovery of the boy’s genius with the chalk.  In a few days he scored another, when he found how well he could read.  Indeed, it was here the teacher and pupil first felt their souls flow together freely, for an instant.

It was the old “Sam Weller’s Valentine” selection that the class was laboring with.  The boys and girls tugged at the dialogue, but in the main got little from it.

It came “Dodd’s” turn to read.  He had taken in the whole scene and was full of the spirit of the piece.  His place of beginning was at the words with which “Sam” begins his letter, and, commencing there, he read, assuming a high-pitched voice: 

“Lovely creeter!”

The school broke out into a laugh, as did also Mr. Bright.  “Dodd” raised his eyes for an instant to catch the cause of their mirth, only to meet the approving smile of the teacher, and the slightest nod of admiration from him.  He flushed with a glow of wholesome pride, and the next instant shouted, in the deep, husky guttural of “Old Tony”: 

“Stop!  A glass o’ the inwariable, my dear!” and so he continued with the dialogue.

It was a revelation to the school, this reading of “Dodd’s.”  After the first floating breath of laughter had passed over the room, every pupil was full of attention, and was listening to the reading of this proverbially bad boy.