But the pedagogic preceptors of Miss Stone did not draw their system of education from so old a book as the one just referred to.  It is perhaps true, also, that German philosophy was evolved merely that people might be amused by it!

Quietly she glided down the aisle, her dress rustling along the seats, and an odor of “new mown hay” exhaling from her clothing.  “Dodd” hung his head as she approached—­perhaps it was to dodge her smile—­and waited developments.

“What is your name, my dear?” came from between the pursed-up lips.

“Doddridge Watts Weaver,” said the boy, in a loud tone.

There was a titter all over the room.  The name was very odd, and an oddity is always to be laughed at by the average person, boy or man.  Did you ever think of that, my dear pedagogue; you who would fain amuse children, and yet will spit them upon the spear of public ridicule by asking them to tell their names out loud in public, before all the rest of the boys and girls?  It is doubtful if any one ever likes to tell his name in public.  I have known old lawyers to blush when put upon the witness stand and obliged to tell their names to the court and jury, all of whom had known them for the last fifty years!  If such is the effect on a dry old stump of a lawyer, what must the effect be on a green, sensitive child?

“Dodd” heard the titter and it made him mad.  He was not to blame for the name, and he felt that it was mean for the folks to laugh at him for what he couldn’t help.  He cast an angry glance out of the corner of his eyes, as if to say he would be even for this some day, and then hung his head again.

“That’s a very pretty name,” said Miss Stone, thinking by this thin compliment to amuse the boy.

“Tain’t nuther!” returned the youth.

Miss Stone ventured no further in that line.

“I am glad you have come to school, and I hope you will be a very nice little boy, because we all love nice little boys,” replied Miss Stone.

“Dodd” glanced across the aisle to where sat a “curled darling” and wished be could pull his hair till he howled.

“Now here is something that will amuse you a little while, I am sure,” pursued Miss Stone, and she laid a handful of beans upon the desk.

The boy glanced up and giggled just a little—­such a knowing giggle, too, as much as to say:  “What do you take me for?  Here’s a go!  Come to school to be amused with beans!”

Miss Stone caught the glance, and in her inmost soul knew all it meant, and realized its full force; but she checked the truth that she felt within her and proceeded by the card.  And why not?  Was she not acting in accordance with the rules and regulations laid down by those who had fashioned her for this very work, and were not these same warranted to keep in any climate, and not to be affected by dampness or dry weather?  She had put her faith in a system and had paid for what she received; and she didn’t propose to be beaten out of her possession by any little white-headed son of a Methodist preacher, in a town of a thousand inhabitants.