In the front seat of the Wallace school sat Mannel Rodd. Nell Gordon declared that he was the roundest object she had ever seen in human form. Though he had arrived at the mature age of five, he still retained that cherubic appearance which one sees in the paintings of old masters. His eyes were as round as the rather sparsely-located buttons on his shirt. His nose was a small round knob. When he opened his little round mouth to lubricate a squeaky pencil or perhaps to some such interesting statement as this, “The cat is on the mat,” he disclosed a row of pearly little teeth. Indeed his whole face would have been as round as the moon, were it not that his chin took an unexpected little saucer-like curve in the very middle of it.  
It was apparent to the most casual observer that Mannel’s whole wardrobe consisted of one grey shirt, one pair of faded blue and a pair of . To the uninitiated his occasional absences from school for an entire day would have seemed most mysterious. Leading questions as to the cause having been put to other members of the family who were present only a reluctant reply that Mannel was not ill. Further than this they would not go. At last even on the most one, light would dawn. Mannel was being .
 
This small boy seemed to accept the limitations of his lot with a Micawber-like philosophy. Indeed it may easily have escaped his youthful notice, that there were persons in the world who did not have to spend a day in bed while their clothing was being washed. To Mannel a second set of garments, even of so simple a character as those he constantly wore, would have seemed wealth.
 
Perhaps the fact that Mannel came from a home where Russian was the language in use and that he knew little English, accounted for his abnormal seriousness during school hours. He could not be absolutely sure what was being said or what might be done to him. Perhaps some cruel elder brother, before Mannel had even started his education, had explained to him in voluble Russian that dreadful pains and penalties were likely to follow the slightest from the paths of . Certain it is that he kept a close watch on the teacher, and that none of her slightest movements escaped him. Though his general appearance might cause mirth in others, he himself seldom smiled. Day by day he sat in his little front seat grasping slate and pencil in hands, gazing earnestly at the sums on the blackboard as he copied them down. he worked these with fitting solemnity. To him they appeared to be of the greatest difficulty and of national importance. Sometimes he wrote endless rows of letters on his slate. Sometimes he made nondescript figures out of plasticine or drew patterns on his slate or counted . At other times, grievous to relate, when he felt sure the teacher was otherwise engaged and could not possibly see him, he drew fierce cats with four or perhaps five stiff, geometrical legs and tails.
 
By two o’clock one bright afternoon in May the school children found it hard to keep their minds concentrated on their lessons. But when their teacher said, “Now, Moses, will you pass the singing books,” a wave of interest perceptibly cleared the atmosphere. Moses proceeded to distribute the geography textbooks.
 
“This aint got in it nor moosic nor nothin’,” complained one small youth. Moses made several further attempts to comply with the modest request of his teacher and at last each child held in grubby hands a book of verses by the sol fah.
 
“Doh, re, mi, fah, soh, la, ti, doh,” sang the children in faint uncertain tones.
 
“Put some sunshine into your voices children,” Nell.
 
“Now then,
 
when Mother bakes the bread,
Me when I catch you sleepy head,
Ray when the sun shines on your bed,
Saw when you work in the back woodshed.”
 
Some of the voices were cracked and others badly out of . Moses Wopp’s voice, loudest of all, sounded like a and the windows fairly in their frames. Nell motioned him to her desk. She thought by occupying his attention elsewhere the music lesson might proceed with more melody and less noise. Moses had developed his tones at home, by the lusty singing of Hallelujah under the strict of his mother.
 
“What’s matter’s Gordon?” he anxiously.
 
“Sharpen these pencils, Moses, please, for the drawing lesson.”
 
Moses sat down to the task; but fearing his education was being with, looked up from time to time and added a phrase to the general . He caught Betty’s eye and significantly his own right optic to remind her of Job, whereon Betty’s voice trailed off into a half-suppressed .
 
Before school was dismissed Mannel Rodd, after earnest on the part of an older sister, was induced to mount the platform, where he shyly and with every evidence of stage fright recited,
 
“Here I stand upon this stage
A pretty little figger,
And if the girls don’t love me now
They will when I am bigger.”
 
As the children left the school-house, Betty was met by Job. He appeared to be headed for a point at an angle of about forty-five degrees from his mistress, but it was only his corner-wise way of walking, caused by his eye. Notwithstanding his seemingly course he reached Betty’s side and thrust his head into the pocket of her small pinafore. He found there what put him into high good humor. he after his little mistress. Bringing up the rear came Moses along, accompanied by Jethro. He took from his pocket a huge bun.
 
“S’tup,” he commanded. Jethro immediately sat up on his legs.
 
“Aw Mosey,” cried Betty, “give it to him in two pieces an’ make him twict as happy.”
 
“Naw Nosey,” he retorted, “there ain’t no bun to break in two, the dorg is outside the bun already.”
 
The bun in question must have had great dynamic force, the tail of Jethro bearing evidence to the internal power generated.