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Updated: May 23, 2025
"Nixnus is a fluid which becomes a powder, which, can be made from anything, and very much resembles a piskota." "Bene, prœstanter, eminentissime. Only not piskota but piskotum; not feminine, you know, but neuter gender, second declension." So Guszti Klimpa returned to his seat very well satisfied with himself.
The urchin got a smart rap on the palm of his hand with the ruler. "And now the other!" And so both hands smarted instead of his ears. "And now, Guszti Klimpa, stand out and repeat to these blockheads what I have been saying." Guszti Klimpa was the head boy, because his father rented the village pot-house, and he himself wore the best jacket of them all, so he was the master's favourite.
Guszti Klimpa's face assumed a pious expression at this reminder, and shoving beneath his hymn-book the shaft of his quill pen out of which he was manufacturing a pocket pistol, he promised to deliver the message at home. "And now let us sing a hymn and say a prayer. And after that there will be no more school till the morbus has departed."
And, Guszti Klimpa! mind you don't forget to inform your dear father that your schoolmaster, the rector, is very much afraid of the morbus, and that my spirit flask is still with you."
After that, Guszti Klimpa grappled with a prayer, and recited the morning devotions instead of the evening devotions by mistake, a lapse of which the rector, however, took no notice. The Amen was no sooner uttered than the youngsters, with a wild yell, made a solid rush for the door, bearing in mind Mr.
Great was the joy of the promising youths at these words. Guszti Klimpa fired off his improvised pistol underneath the bench, and the pellet hit Mr. Kordé full on the nose, whereupon he well trounced Jóska Slipik, though he knew very well that he was not the culprit. Whilst the wrongfully flogged urchin was still howling, the others began singing the hymn. So long as the low notes predominated Mr.
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