call you," said the young American teacher, who was new to the place.
"Ku Yum be my name," was the unhesitating reply; and said Ku Yum walked into the room, seated herself complacently on an empty bench in the first row, and informed the teacher that she lived on Apablaza street, that her parents were well, but her mother was dead, and her father, whose name was Ten Suie, had a wicked and tormenting spirit in his foot.
The teacher gave her a slate and pencil, and resumed the interrupted lesson by indicating with her rule ten lichis (called "Chinese nuts" by people in America) and counting them aloud.
"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten," the baby class repeated.
After having satisfied herself by dividing the lichis unequally among the babies, that they might understand the difference between a singular and a plural number. Miss Mason began a catechism on the features of the face. Nose, eyes, lips, and cheeks were properly named, but the class was mute when it came to the forehead.
"What is this?" Miss Mason repeated, posing her finger on the fore part of her head.
"Me say, me say," piped a shrill voice, and the new pupil stepped to the front, and touching
