Still you stand in
awe at the mere sight of him,--an awe that is very much encouraged by a
report made to you by a small boy, that "Old Bid" keeps a large ebony
ruler in his desk. You are amazed at the small boy's audacity; it
astonishes you that any one who had ever smelt the strong fumes of
sulphur and ether in the Doctor's room, and had seen him turn red
vinegar blue, (as they say he does,) should call him "Old Bid!"
You however come very little under his control; you enter upon the proud
life, in the small boy's department, under the dominion of the English
master. He is a different personage from Dr. Bidlow: he is a dapper
little man, who twinkles his eye in a peculiar fashion, and who has a
way of marching about the schoolroom with his hands crossed behind him,
giving a playful flirt to his coat-tails. He wears a pen tucked behind
his ear; his hair is carefully set up at the sides and upon the top, to
conceal (as you think later in life) his diminutive height; and he steps
very springily around behind the benches, glancing now and then at the
books,--cautioning one scholar about his dog's-ears, and startling
another from a doze by a very loud and odious snap of his forefinger
upon the boy's head.
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