He can't get them all to one standard of reading." Mr.Lindsay laughed and said-- "He had better read less, and try a little general oral instruction.
Perhaps they don't remember because they can't understand;"-- and the Rector coming in at that moment, the business of the evening commenced.
Having afterwards to cross the school for something, Bill passed the new teacher and his class, and came to the conclusion that they did "get on together," and very well too.

The rag-tag and bob-tail shone that night, and afterwards were loud in praises of the lesson.

"It was so clear," and "He was so patient." Indeed, patience was one great secret of Mr.Lindsay's teaching; he waited so long for an answer that he generally got it.

His pupils were obliged to exert themselves when there was no hope of being passed over, and everybody was waiting.
Finally, Bill's share of the arithmetic lesson converted him to Master Arthur's friend.

He _was_ a clever young gentleman, and a kind one too.
The lesson had been so interesting--the clever young gentleman, standing (without his eye-glass) by the blackboard, had been so strict and yet so entertaining, was so obviously competent, and so pleasantly kind, that Bill, who liked arithmetic, and (like all intelligent children) appreciated good teaching, had had no time to think of the Yew-lane Ghost till the lesson was ended.