Oscar stepped out to the platform on which the teacher’s desk was placed.

“There,” continued the master, pointing to a blackboard facing the school, “you may stand there and look at that board just as long as you please.  But you must not look at anything else, and I would advise you not to let me catch your eyes turning either to the right or the left.  Now mind and keep your eyes on the board, and when you feel like studying let me know.”

Oscar took the position pointed out to him, with his back towards the boys, and with his face so near the blackboard, that he could see nothing else without turning his head—­an operation that would be sure to attract the attention of the master.  At first he thought it would be good fun to stand there, and for awhile the novelty of the thing did amuse him a little.  When he began to grow weary, he contrived to interest himself by tracing out the faint chalk-marks of long-forgotten problems, that had not been entirely obliterated from the blackboard.  This afforded employment for his mind for a time; but by-and-bye he began to grow tired and uneasy.  His eyes longed to see something else, and his legs were weary of standing so long in one position.  He wondered, too, whether the boys were looking at him, and whether they smiled at his strange employment.  At last, after doing penance about an hour, his exhaustion got the better of his stubbornness, and on informing the master that he thought ho could study now, he was permitted to take his seat.

After returning to his desk, Oscar had but little time to finish learning his geography lesson, before the class was called out to recite.  As was too often the case, he was but half prepared.  The subject of the lesson was New York State.  Several of the questions put to Oscar were answered wrong, either wholly or in part.  When asked what great lakes bordered on New York, he replied: 

“Lake Erie and Lake Superior.”

When the question was given to another, and correctly answered, Oscar exclaimed: 

“That’s what I meant—­Erie and Ontario; but I was n’t thinking what I said.”

This was somewhat of a habit with Oscar.  When he “missed” a question, he was very apt to say, after the next boy had answered it, “I knew, only I could n’t think,” or, “I was just going to say so.”

Another question put to him was, whether the water of the great New York lakes was fresh or salt.  Oscar replied that it was salt.  It is but justice to add, how ever, that nothing was said in the lesson of the day, on this point, although the question had occurred in a previous lesson.  Noticing that several of the boys laughed at Oscar’s blunder, the teacher remarked: