The words, indeed, she had found in the dictionary, but she could not twist them into sense.
"Old Vergil's utterly stumped me to-day!" she mourned to Garnet, as they met in the dressing-room before nine o'clock.

"If Bunty puts me to construe anywhere on page 21, I'm a gone coon.

I'm feeling in a blue funk, I can tell you." "Poor old bluebottle! Don't wrinkle up your forehead like that--you're making permanent lines! It's a bad trick, and just spoils you." "I can't help it when I'm worried!" "Then don't worry." "Oh, it's easy enough for you; you don't have to receive the vials of Bunty's scorn." Winona hoped against hope that the difficult page might fall to somebody else's turn.

Miss Huntley took no particular order, but selected girls at random to construe the lesson.

In a Form of twenty it was possible not to be chosen at all.