"Why, I used to go to school to you, Mr. Kellogg."

"It is nine years ago, and you must have changed so much that I
cannot call you to mind."

"Don't you remember a tall, slab-sided youngster of thirteen, that
used to stick pins into your chair for you to set on?"

Kellogg smiled.

"Surely you are not Joshua Bickford?" he said.

"Yes, I am. I am that same identical chap."

"I am glad to see you, Mr. Bickford," said his old school-teacher,
grasping Joshua's hand cordially.

"It seems kinder queer for you to call me Mr. Bickford."

"I wasn't so ceremonious in the old times," said Kellogg.

"No, I guess not. You'd say, 'Come here, Joshua,' and you'd jerk me
out of my seat by the collar. 'Did you stick that pin in my chair?'
That's the way you used to talk. And then you'd give me an all-fired
lickin'."

Overcome by the mirthful recollections, Joshua burst into an
explosive fit of laughter, in which presently he was joined by Joe
and his old teacher.