Hector did so, exhibiting equal readiness.

The other boys took their turns, and then words were given out to parse.  Here Jim Smith showed himself quite at sea; though the usher, as it was evident, selected the easiest words for him, he made a mistake in every one.  Apparently he was by no means certain which of the words were nouns, and which verbs, and as to the relations which they sustained to other words in the sentence he appeared to have very little conception.

At length the recitation was over.  It had demonstrated one thing, that in Latin scholarship Hector was far more accurate and proficient than any of his classmates, while Jim Smith stood far below all the rest.

“What in the world can the teacher be thinking of, to keep such an ignoramus in the class?” thought Hector.  “He doesn’t know enough to join a class in the Latin Reader.”

The fact was, that Jim Smith was unwilling to give up his place as a member of the highest class in Latin, because he knew it would detract from his rank in the school.  Mr. Crabb, to whom every recitation was a torture, had one day ventured to suggest that it would be better to drop into the Caesar class; but he never ventured to make the suggestion again, so unfavorably was it received by his backward pupil.  He might, in the case of a different pupil, have referred the matter to the principal, but Socrates Smith was sure to decide according to the wishes of his nephew, and did not himself possess knowledge enough of the Latin tongue to detect his gross mistakes.

After a time came recess.  Hector wished to arrange the books in his desk, and did not go out.

Mr. Crabb came up to his desk and said:  “Roscoe, I must compliment you on your scholarship.  You enter at the head.  You are in advance of all the other members of the class.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Hector, gratified.

“There is one member of the class who is not competent to remain in it.”

“Yes, sir; I observed that.”

“But he is unwilling to join a lower class.  It is a trial to me to hear his daily failures, but, perhaps, he would do no better anywhere else.  He would be as incompetent to interpret Caesar as Virgil, I am afraid.”

“So I should suppose, sir.”

“By the way, Roscoe,” said the usher, hurriedly; “let me caution you against irritating Smith.  He is the principal’s nephew, and so we give him more scope.”

“He seems to me a bully,” said Hector.

“So he is.”

“I can’t understand why the boys should give in to him as they do.”

“He is taller and stronger than the other boys.  Besides, he is backed up by the principal.  I hope you won’t get into difficulty with him.”

“Thank you, Mr. Crabb.  Your caution is kindly meant, but I am not afraid of this Jim—­Smith.  I am quite able to defend myself if attacked.”

“I hope so,” said the usher; but he scanned Hector’s physical proportions doubtfully, and it was very clear that he did not think him a match for the young tyrant of the school.