" demanded Cottsill, turning on him.

("You're a pack of geese," said Miss Appleby.)

"I never said umble in my life!" shouted Totts.

"I reckon he don't use the aixpression," said Willows.

"And if istorical is adopted, I'll resign now," Totts continued.

"Gentlemen, gentlemen," protested Kibosh.

"I move those last h's be laid on the table," said Maverick; and this
was done.

"Past participles," Egghorn now wrote on the blackboard. "Termination
_ed_ to be changed to _t_; for instance, blest, exprest, dro----"

"What are you going to do with rest?" interrupted Totts.

"And test?" said some one down the table.

"And nest?" another called out.

"Can't you let him finish?" said Cottsill. And Egghorn continued,
"Dropt, stopt, spilt, kilt, and so forth."

("Kilt!" whispered Miss Appleby. "Oh, dear!")

"Rattlet instead of rattled will look funny," observed some one.

"So will mart and wart," remarked Willows, "instead of marred and
warred."

"If you have rattlet and mart and wart," yelled Totts, "I'll resign
right now, right now, right now!"

"Who thought of having them, having them, having them?" thundered
Cottsill.

"Gentlemen! Oh, Gentlemen!" wailed Kibosh.

"But consistency----" objected Maverick.

"You cut out consistency yourself," Cottsill reminded him. We despatched
the past participles, and came also without much disturbance through
catalog, demagog, and so forth (vogue and rogue made some trouble, and
our fundamental principle of inconsistency had once more to be
asserted), but when their blood was roused and the fire of
simplification grew hot in them, and they adopted the following with
cheers and noises of feet----

Receev, deceev, conceev, beleev,
weev, leev, greev, seez, pleez, teez--

I felt that we had really got near the weeding-out point, especially
when Jesse Willows rose and added fleez. "Plural of dogbiters," he
explained, and sat down quietly. At this Miss Appleby gave one brief,
happy laugh, but at once resumed a singular tapping of her foot which I
had begun to observe. We now thoroughly phoneticked many words: blud,
for instance, and wunss (which is so much phoneticker than once!) and
the days of the week: Munday, for instance, and Toozday. (I say Tewsday,
myself, but I did not mention it to these profound American scholars.)

"My little daughter Zola B.," said Professor Maverick, "can always spell
Wednesday."

"My nine children never can," said Totts.

"I w