not forgotten Miss Snow's
cutting remarks about "some persons whose noses were not too flat to
smell other people's limes, and stuck-up people who were not too proud
to ask for them"; and she instantly crushed "that Snow girl's" hopes by
the withering telegram, "You needn't be so polite all of a sudden, for
you won't get any."

A distinguished personage happened to visit the school that morning, and
Amy's beautifully drawn maps received praise; which honor to her foe
rankled in the soul of Miss Snow, and caused Miss March to assume the
airs of a studious young peacock. But, alas, alas! pride goes before a
fall, and the revengeful Snow turned the tables with disastrous success.
No sooner had the guest paid the usual stale compliments, and bowed
himself out, than Jenny, under pretence of asking an important question,
informed Mr. Davis, the teacher, that Amy March had pickled limes in
her desk.

Now, Mr. Davis had declared limes a contraband article, and solemnly
vowed to publicly ferule the first person who was found breaking the
law. This much-enduring man had succeeded in banishing gum after a long
and stormy war, had made a bonfire of the confiscated novels and
newspapers, had suppressed a private post-office, had forbidden
distortions of the face, nicknames, and caricatures, and done all that
one man could do to keep half a hundred rebellious girls in order. Boys
are trying enough to human patience, goodness knows! but girls are
infinitely more so, especially to nervous gentlemen with tyrannical
tempers, and no more talent for teaching than "Dr. Blimber." Mr. Davis
knew any quantity of Greek, Latin, algebra, and ologies of all sorts, so
he was called a fine teacher; and manners, morals, feelings, and
examples were not considered of any particular importance. It was a most
unfortunate moment for denouncing Amy, and Jenny knew it. Mr. Davis had
evidently taken his coffee too strong that morning; there was an east
wind, which always affected his neuralgia, and his pupils had not done
him the credit which he felt he deserved; therefore, to use the
expressive if not elegant language of a school-girl, "he was as nervous
as a witch, and as cross as a bear." The word "limes" was like fire to
powder: his yellow face flushed, and he rapped on his desk with an
energy which made Jenny skip to her seat with unusual rapidity.

"Young ladies, attention, if you please!"

At the stern order the buzz ceased, and fifty pairs of blu