Jeff said Miss Zava--he would put on a title,
though they apparently had none--was a darling, that she reminded
him of his Aunt Esther at home; but Terry refused to be won,
and rather jeered at his own companion, when we were alone.
"I'm sick of it!" he protested. "Sick of the whole thing. Here
we are cooped up as helpless as a bunch of three-year-old orphans,
and being taught what they think is necessary--whether we like it
or not. Confound their old-maid impudence!"
Nevertheless we were taught. They brought in a raised map
of their country, beautifully made, and increased our knowledge
of geographical terms; but when we inquired for information as
to the country outside, they smilingly shook their heads.
They brought pictures, not only the engravings in the books
but colored studies of plants and trees and flowers and birds.
They brought tools and various small objects--we had plenty of
"material" in our school.
If it had not been for Terry we would have been much more
contented, but as the weeks ran into months he grew more and
more irritable.
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