brat has been sent home this month. Do I pay you to suspend him, or to eddicate him? Answer me that! You get fifty cents a month in advance for teachin' him, and I'm not a-payin' for nothin'. I've brought that paper-backed book you sent me before this boy came to your school, to remind you what I'm payin' for."
She took from her pocket a small pamphlet, and read slowly and emphatically: "'The object of Miss Maisie Latham's school for boys, is: First: To arouse the mentality of the pupil and to awaken his power to think. Second: To foster a sturdy moral nature and develop the scholar's individuality. Third: To perfect the student in those general studies that lead to a preparatory course.'
"Now, that's the object of your school, as you say right here in black and white. 'Tain't nothin' 'bout suspensions, and bein' incorrigible, as I can decipher,"—and triumphantly she closed the book and waited for the teacher's reply.
"Mrs. Foley," said the young schoolmistress, "I feel that your anger is justified. My own patience with Thomas is exhausted, for I have tried over and over to make him see the error of his ways."
