Oh, if only I had not dawdled! I would give all my pocket- money for this term to know a line of that horrid _Caesar_.
"Come, sir, be quick," said the master.
Then I fetched a sigh very like a sob, and began-- "_Que_, and--" I heard the master's foot scrape ominously on the floor.
"_Que_, and--" I repeated.
"_And_ what, sir ?" thundered the master, rising in his seat and leaning across his desk towards me.

It was awful.

I was never more miserable in my life.
"_Caesar_, Caesar," I stammered.

Here at least was a word I could translate, so I repeated it--"_Que_, and--_Caesar_, Caesar." A dead silence, scarcely broken by a titter from the back desks.
"_Jam_," I chokingly articulated, and there stuck.
"Well, sir, and what does _jam_ mean ?" inquired the voice, in a tone of suppressed wrath.
"_Jam_"-- again I stuck.
Another dead silence.
"_Que_, and--_Caesar_, Caesar; _jam_"-- It was no use; the only jam I knew of I was certain would not do in this case, so I began again in despair; "_Que_, and--_Caesar_, Caesar; _jam_--_jam_--_jam_." The master shut his book, and I knew the storm had burst.
"Smith, have you prepared this lesson ?" "No, sir," I replied, relieved to be able to answer any questions, however awful.
"Why not, sir ?" Ah! that I could not answer--not to myself, still less to him.

So I was silent.
"Come to me after school," he said.