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When he lay out the whole deck, he come back and wash he hands and show me some more letters. Oh, I very stupid Japan baby; but at last I know all, and then he harness some together and make d-o-g say dog, and n-o say no, and so it come that one day next week was going to be his fête-day, what you call birsday, and I make very big large secret."
I was lying one evening propped up in my bed, with my damaged arm feeling comparatively comfortable, and myself in a particularly jovial frame of mind as I listened to Jack Smith attempting to instil into the mind of the volatile Billy the art of spelling d-o-g dog. "Now, Billy," said the instructor, "you'll never get on at this rate. That letter you're pointing at is a B for Billy, and not a D."
Now, Jacob, what does m-a-t spell?" "Chafing-mat," replied I. "It spells mat only, silly boy; the chafing will be on my part directly. Now, Jacob, what does d-o-g spell?" "Dog-kennel." "Dog, Jacob, without the kennel. Thou art very contumelious, and deservest to be rolled in the kennel. Now, Jacob, this is the last time that thou triflest with me; what does h-a-t spell?"
We have solid words that you can spell: articles built up with the bricks of sound-stuff we call letters: c-a-t cat, d-o-g dog, and so on; but their words, no; nothing so tangible: all depends on little silences, small hiatuses in the vocalizition, and above all, musical tones. Now then, which is the more primitive? Which is nearer the material or intellectual, and which, the spiritual, pole?
Now, that the little pigs have come to school we must see how much they know, so we can tell what class to put them in." So she said to Curly: "Spell cat:" "D-o-g," spelled the little pig boy. "Wrong," said the teacher. "I guess you will have to go in the kindergarten class." Then she said to Flop Ear; "Spell boy." "G-i-r-l," spelled Flop. "Wrong," said the teacher.
C-a-t, cat. D-o-g, fox," with an affectation of juvenility which was grewsome. He resented an ill-advised attempt at familiarity by snapping at the finger which tried to scratch his poll, and barked out: "Take care! I'm a bad bird, I am. You betcher life!" "He's one of the cleverest parrots I have had for some time," said his owner, Mr. Holden.
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