"Morris, dear," she began one afternoon, when they were alone together, "you were very rude to Doctor Ingraham yesterday. I can't allow you to stay here with me if you're going to behave so badly. You sulked horribly and you slammed the door against his foot. Of course it was an accident, but how would you feel, Morris, if you had hurt him?" "Glad," said the Monitor of the Gold-Fish savagely. "Glad." "Morris! What do you mean by saying such a thing? I'm ashamed of you. Why should you want to hurt a friend of mine?" "Don't you be friends mit him!" cried Morris, deserting his fish and throwing himself upon his teacher. "Don't you do it, Teacher Missis Bailey. He ain't no friends for a lady." And then, in answer to Teacher's stare of blank surprise, he went on: "My mamma she seen him by your side und she says--I got to tell you in whispering how she says." Teacher bent her head and Morris whispered in an awe-struck voice: "My mamma says she like that: 'He could to be a Krisht,'" and then drew back to study Teacher's consternation. But she seemed quite calm. Perhaps she had already faced the devastating fact, for she said: "Yes, I know he's a Christian. I'm not afraid of them. Are you?" "Teacher, no ma'an, Missis Bailey, I ain't got no scare over Krishts, on'y they ain't no friends for ladies. My papa says like that on my auntie, und my auntie she's married now mit a stylish floorwalker. We'm got a Krisht in our house for boarder, so I know. But _you_ couldn't to know 'bout Krishts." "Yes, I do. They're very nice people." "No ma'an," said Morris gently. And then still more courteously: "It's a lie. You couldn't to know about Krishts." "But I do know all about them, Morris dear. I'm a Christian." Again Morris remembered his manners. Again he replied in his courtly phrase: "It's a lie." As he said it, with a bewitching rising inflection, it was almost a caress. "It's a lie. Teacher fools. You couldn't to be no Krisht. You ain't got no looks off of Krishts." Teacher was mildly surprised. She was as Irish as Patrick Brennan and, in her own way, she looked it. Truly her eyes were brown, but the face and the faith of her fathers were still strongly hers. Morris, meanwhile, examined his sovereign with admiring eyes. He could well understand the heart of that Krisht, for Teacher was very beautiful and of splendid array. Her jumper was red, with golden buttons, and her collar was white, and her hair was soft, with combs. And she had a light face and a little bit of nose and teeth. Her apron was from silk with red ribbons and red flowers, and she had like man's-shoes and a watch. This vision of feminine perfection was bestowing time and smiles on him. She was actually appealing to his judgment. "Not look like a Christian?" she was saying. "Well, then, Morris, what do I look like?"