“Dodd” read to the end of the letter and then sat down.

Mr. Bright said, “Very well!” and marked him 9 1/2!  The two walked home to dinner together, at noon!

For many weeks after this “Dodd” continued as he had begun, and grew in favor with the pupils in general and with Mr. Bright in particular.  He came regularly to school, studied fairly, and advanced quite rapidly in his work.  This was very satisfactory to his parents, who saw their son, whom they had mourned as worse than dead, once more “clothed and in his right mind.”  The Elder was happy and felt that at last the personal influence of one good man had done for “Dodd” what a half dozen revival conversions had failed to do for him.  Perhaps he did not say it just that way, even to himself; but we often hear voices within us saying things that we dare not say ourselves, even to ourselves.  It was a voice within that said this to the parson.  I merely record the fact without further comment.  Why should anyone comment on such a fact?

But there came a day—­there are always days a-coming.  There came, too, a deed, and there are always deeds a-coming.  It was in this wise.

School had just begun, after dinner, when suddenly “Dodd” Weaver arose to leave the room.  There was nothing remarkable in this, for it was not unlawful for pupils to leave Mr. Bright’s room without special permission.  They were permitted to come and go at pleasure, subject, always, to the direction of the teacher in each or every case.

Mr. Bright did not notice the young man till he had nearly reached the door; then, suddenly, it occurred to him that there was no good reason for his going out.

“Why are you leaving the room, ’Dodd’?” he inquired, a trifle abruptly.

“To get a drink of water,” returned the boy.

“You need not go,” remarked Mr. Bright.  “A young man of your years should attend to that at the proper time.  You may take your seat!”

It was a little thing, but it was so sudden that it “riled” “Dodd” to the very depths.  Quick as a flash he returned: 

“I’ll go out whenever I ——­ please for all of you, you ——­ ——­ ——­ ——­,” and here followed a string of blasphemous words which good taste says I must not write, though the truth is, “Dodd” said them, very loudly, before a whole school full of young ladies and gentlemen, who had to hear them.  But then, good taste has some rights which I am bound to respect, and I put dashes where “Dodd” put most shameful oaths.

If a thunderbolt had fallen into that still school-room it would not have produced greater consternation among the pupils than did these words of “Dodd’s.”  He turned pale with anger, and glared at Mr. Bright, as he, “Dodd,” stood with his hand on the doorknob.

“All right;” returned Mr. Bright, “do just as the ‘Other-Fellow’ says about it,” and he turned to his class again.

“Dodd” stood with his hand on the doorknob for a full minute, then turned, and slowly walking to his seat, sat down!  But Mr. Bright did not even look that way.