smiled as he gave him his pen, and said, ‘Ah, you rogue, you are always full of mischief!’
The teacher was accustomed to cheer the monotony of his labors by a race with the boys during play hours.
There was a fine sloping lawn in front of the school-house, terminating in a brook fringed with willows.
The declivity gave an impetus to the runners, and as they came among the trees, their heads swiftly parted the long branches.
Isaac tied a brick-bat to one of the pendant boughs, and then invited the master to run with him. He accepted the invitation, and got the start in the race.
As he darted through the trees, the brick merely grazed his hair.
If it had hit him, it might have cost him his life; though his mischievous pupil had not reflected upon the possibility of such a result.
There was a bridge across the brook consisting of a single rail.
One day, Isaac sawed this nearly in two; and while the master was at play with the boys, he took the opportunity to say something very impertinent, for which he knew he should be chased.
He ran toward the brook, crossed the rail in safety, and instantly turned it over, so that his pursuer would step upon it when the cut side was downward.
It immediately snapped under his pressure, and precipitated him into the stream, while the young rogue stood by almost killing himself with laughter.
But this joke also came very near having a melancholy