When I entered she blushed crimson.

She was a proud girl, and I knew she was hurt at my seeing her disgrace.

I coaxed her to speak out her trouble.
"I could teach the whole school," she said, fiercely--"master, mistress, and all--and yet I am kept sitting over a, b, c, like a baby.

I get so sick of it that sometimes I answer wrong by way of novelty.

Then I have to hold out my hand for the rod.