"In course lessons first, boys, that's the motto." He again took up his pen and assumed his old laborious attitude.
But after a few moments it became evident that either the master's curt dismissal of his subject or his own preoccupation with it, had somewhat unsettled him.

He cleaned his pen obtrusively, going to the window for a better light, and whistling from time to time with a demonstrative carelessness and a depressing gayety.

He once broke into a murmuring, meditative chant evidently referring to the previous conversation, in its--"That's so--Yer we go--Lessons the first, boys, Yo, heave O." The rollicking marine character of this refrain, despite its utter incongruousness, apparently struck him favorably, for he repeated it softly, occasionally glancing behind him at the master who was coldly absorbed at his desk.

Presently he arose, carefully put his books away, symmetrically piling them in a pyramid beside Mr.Ford's motionless elbow, and then lifting his feet with high but gentle steps went to the peg where his coat and hat were hanging.

As he was about to put them on he appeared suddenly struck with a sense of indecorousness in dressing himself in the school, and taking them on his arm to the porch resumed them outside.