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5
in the junior high school in Winchester. All seemed to be going fairly well until the last class came in. The assistant principal had said something, upon looking at my program, about having no trouble unless that class gave it to me. But the whole atmosphere of the school seems to be one of old-fashioned restricted discipline, so I confidently replied "O, these won't be any trouble." And she agreed with me; so I was totally unprepared for the wild disorder that prevailed in that low-mental-grade glass [[class]]. I was almost hoping for at least one more day in which to straighten them out, but I didn't get it, and I guess the fact that I didn't saved me a good deal of nervous fatigue. The little rascals even gave fictitious names when I tried to find out who they were, but I got their right ones after they were gone and was