For he, being gifted with a gentle sense of humor, together with a patient love of the origin of things, was questing in his quiet mind what had led a boy to render a well-known line as follows: "Such a quantity of salt there was, to season the Roman nation." Presently he hit upon the clue to this great mystery.

"Mola, the salted cake," he said; "and the next a little error of conjugation.

You have looked out your words, Smith, but chanced upon the wrong ones." "Oh, Captain Scuddy," cried the head boy, grinning wisely, though he might have made just the same blunder himself; "after that, do tell us one of your sea-stories.

It will strike five in about five minutes.
Something about Nelson, and killing ten great Frenchmen." "Oh, do," cried the other little fellows, crowding round him.

"It is ever so much better than Virgil, Captain Scuddy!" "I am not Captain Scuddy, as I tell you every day.