My treatise shall tell the truth about us.

Why, if a week should pass without some one telling me that I am doing easy work for big pay I would conclude that I might as well order my ascension robe 'immediately and to onct.' 'Well, you get your money easy,' some rate-payer will tell me, condescendingly.

'All you have to do is to sit there and hear lessons.' I used to argue the matter at first, but I'm wiser now.
Facts are stubborn things, but as some one has wisely said, not half so stubborn as fallacies.

So I only smile loftily now in eloquent silence.
Why, I have nine grades in my school and I have to teach a little of everything, from investigating the interiors of earthworms to the study of the solar system.

My youngest pupil is four--his mother sends him to school to 'get him out of the way'-- and my oldest twenty--it 'suddenly struck him' that it would be easier to go to school and get an education than follow the plough any longer.