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"I am learning my verb," he said; "moneo, mones, monet." Lucy waited no longer, but moved off to another desk. "And what are you doing?" "I am writing my analysis." Lucy did not know what an analysis was, so she went a little further. "What are you doing here?" she said timidly, for these were somewhat bigger boys. "We are drawing up an essay on the individuality of self."

Which learned lecture of my man brought this of Terence into my memory: "Hoc salsum est, hoc adustum est, hoc lautum est, parum: Illud recte: iterum sic memento: sedulo Moneo, qux possum, pro mea sapientia. Postremo, tanquam in speculum, in patinas, Demea, Inspicere jubeo, et moneo, quid facto usus sit."

There are two other empty niches, one inscribed Tempora labuntur more fluentis aquae, and the other Vivite victuri moneo mors omnibus instat. These niches stand between four medallions of della Robbia ware, some eighteen inches across. Two are heads of men and two of women, only one of each being glazed.

"Thou knowest not Latin?" said the archbishop, turning with a compassionate eye to Nevile, whose own eye was amorously fixed on the delicate confectioneries, "never too late to learn. Hold, here is a grammar of the verbs, that, with mine own hand, I have drawn up for youth. Study thine amo and thy moneo, while I confer on Church matters with giddy Montagu.

"I am learning my verb," he said; "moneo, mones, monet." Lucy waited no longer, but moved off to another desk. "And what are you doing?" "I am writing my analysis." Lucy did not know what an analysis was, so she went a little further. "What are you doing here?" she said timidly, for these were somewhat bigger boys. "We are writing an essay on the individuality of self."

Lessons that day were fitful and haphazard. Jean was repeating in a drawling voice: moneo, mones, monet ... monebam, monebas, monebat... Suddenly Monsieur Tudesco sprang forward, dragging his chair along the floor with a horrid screech, and clapping his hand on his pupil's shoulder: "Child," he said, "to-day I am going to give you a more profitable lesson than all the pitiful teaching I have confined myself to up to now.

"Thou knowest not Latin?" said the archbishop, turning with a compassionate eye to Nevile, whose own eye was amorously fixed on the delicate confectioneries, "never too late to learn. Hold, here is a grammar of the verbs, that, with mine own hand, I have drawn up for youth. Study thine amo and thy moneo, while I confer on Church matters with giddy Montagu.