One of the number, not trusting to his memory, hit upon the singular expedient of writing the whole of his piece and the next on a piece of paper, and wafering it to the instep of his shoe when he went up to his class.

Unhappily for his scheme, he was so placed that he dared not expose his foot so as to allow him to avail himself of this delectable assistance, and consequently, after much looking on the floor for inspiration, and much incoherent muttering, was passed over, and the order of things being thereby disturbed, of course no one could say the missing lines until the head boy was applied to, and the lower half of the class was turned down, with the exception of Louis, who, standing on this occasion just above the gentleman of shoe memory, had been able to say his share.
As they were breaking up, Mr.Danby said to Louis, "You have been very industrious lately, Louis Mortimer: I am glad you have been so correct to-day." Louis blushed from a consciousness of undeserved praise; but though his natural fear of offending and losing favor sprung up directly, a higher principle faced it, and bearing down all obstacles, forced him to acknowledge his unworthiness of the present encomium.
"I ought to learn mine, sir,--I learned my piece to-day." "What do you mean ?" asked Mr.Danby.
"I learned my part of the lesson, as well as Harris, Williams, Sutton, and Charles Salisbury.

We forgot our lessons last night, but it is quite an accident that I have said mine to-day." "I am glad you have had the honor to say so," said Mr.Danby.
"Of course you must learn yours, but let me have no more learning pieces, if you please.".