far from fluent in the first, while his style of spelling many words was strikingly original. "Ain't I stupid, Florence?" he asked one day, after spelling a word of three syllables with such ingenious incorrectness as to convulse his young teacher with merriment. "Not at all, Dodger. You are making excellent progress; but sometimes you are so droll that I can't help laughing." "I don't mind that if you think I am really gettin' on." "Undoubtedly you are!" "I make a great many mistakes," said Dodger, dubiously. "Yes, you do; but you must remember that you have taken lessons only a short time. Don't you think you can read a good deal more easily than you did?" "Yes; I don't trip up half so often as I did. I'm afraid you'll get tired of teachin' me." "No fear of that, Dodger. As long as I see that you are improving, I shall feel encouraged to go on." "I wish I knew as much as your other scholar." "You will in time if you go on. You mustn't get discouraged." "I won't!" said Dodger, stoutly. "If a little gal like her can learn, I'd ought to be ashamed if I don't--a big boy of eighteen." "It isn't the size of the boy that counts, Dodger." "I know that, but I ain't goin' to give in, and let a little gal get ahead of me!" "Keep to that determination, Dodger, and you will succeed in time, never fear." On the whole, Florence enjoyed both her pupils. She had the faculty of teaching, and she became very much interested in both. As for Dodger, she thought, rough diamond as he was, that she saw in him the making of a manly man, and she felt that it was a privilege to assist in the development of his intellectual nature. Again, he had picked up a good deal of slang from the nature of his associates, and she set to work to improve his language, and teach him refinement.