"Well, I do want to larn," old Zack replied. "I'm goin' the whole hog,
ef it kills me!"
And apparently it did pretty near kill him; at any rate he perspired
over his work and at times was near shedding tears.
Certain of the letters he drew on paper with a lead pencil and pasted on
the back of his hands, so as to keep them in sight. One day he tore the
alphabet out of his primer and put it into the crown of his cap--"to see
ef it wouldn't soak in," he said. When, after a hard struggle, he was
able to get three letters together and spell cat, c-a-t, he was so much
pleased that he clapped his hands and shouted, "Scat!" at the top of his
voice.
The effect of such performances on a roomful of small boys and girls was
not conducive to good order. It was only with difficulty that the young
master could hear lessons or induce his pupils to study. Old Zack was
the center of attraction for every juvenile eye.
It was when the old fellow first began to write his name, or try to, in
his copy book, that he caused the greatest commotion. Only with the most
painful efforts did his wholly untrained fingers trace the copy that the
master had set.
Pages:
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66