"Miss Jones, lay down the lid of your paint-box. No rulers shall be used in my school, as I have often told you." "But, Mr. Gummage, only look at the walls of my castle; they are all leaning to one side; both the turrets stand crooked, and the doors and windows slant every way." "No matter, it's my rule that nobody shall use a rule. Miss Miller, have you rubbed the blue and bistre I told you?" "Yes, sir; I've been at it all the afternoon; here it is." "Why, that's not half enough." "Mr. Gummage, I've rubbed, and rubbed, till my arm aches to the shoulder, and my face is all in a glow." "Then take off your bonnet, and cool yourself. I tell you there's not half enough. Why, my boys rub blue and bistre till their faces run of a stream. I make them take off their coats to it." "Mr. Gummage," said one young lady, "you promised to put in my sky to-day." "Mr. Gummage," said another, "I've been waiting for my distances these two weeks. How can I go any farther till you have done them for me?" "Finish the fore-ground to-day. It is time enough for the distances: I'll put them in on Friday." "Mr. Gummage," said another, "my river has been expecting you since last Wednesday." "Why, you have not put in the boat yet. Do the boat to-day, and the fisherman on the shore. But look at your bridge! Every arch is of a different size--some big, and some little." "Well, Mr. Gummage, it is your own fault--you should let me use compasses. I have a pair in my box--do, pray, let me use them." "No, I won't. My plan is that you shall all draw entirely by the eye." "That is the reason we make everything so crooked." "I see nothing more crooked than yourselves," replied the polite drawing-master. "Mr. Gummage," said another young lady, raising her eyes from a novel that she had brought with her, "I have done nothing at my piece for at least a fortnight. I have been all the time waiting for you to put in my large tree." "Hush this moment with your babbling, every soul of you," said the teacher, in an under tone: "don't you see there are strangers here? What an unreasonable pack of fools you are! Can I do everybody's piece at once? Learn to have patience, one and all of you, and wait till your turn comes." Some of the girls tossed their heads and pouted, and some laughed, and some quitted their desks and amused themselves by looking out at the windows. But the instructor turned his back on them, and walked off towards the table at which Mrs. Atmore and her daughter were seated with the portfolios, both making incessant exclamations of "How beautiful!--how elegant!--how sweet!"