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"David Dunne," demanded Little Teacher, "did you bring that mouse to school?"
"He brung it and let it out on purpose," informed Tim eagerly.
Little Teacher never encouraged talebearing, but she was so discomfited by the exposure of the ruling weakness peculiar to her s.e.x that she decided to discipline her favorite pupil upon his acknowledgment of guilt.
"You may bring your books and sit on the platform," she ordered indignantly.
David did not in the least mind his a.s.signment to so prominent a position, but he did mind Little Teacher's att.i.tude toward him throughout the day. He sought to propitiate her by coming to her a.s.sistance in many little tasks, but she persistently ignored his overtures. He then ventured to seek enlightenment regarding his studies, but she coldly informed him he could remain after school to ask his questions.
David began to feel troubled, and looked out of the window for an inspiration. He found one in the form of big, brawny, Jim Block--"Teacher's Jim," as the school children all called him.
"There goes Teacher's Jim," sang David, _soto voce_.
The shot told. For the second time that day Little Teacher showed outward and visible signs of an inward disturbance. With a blush she turned quickly to the window and watched with expressive eyes the stalwart figure striding over the rough-frozen road.
In an instant, however, she had recalled herself to earth, and David's dancing eyes renewed her hostility toward him. Toward the end of the day she began to feel somewhat appeased by his docility and evident repentance. Her manner had perceptibly changed by the time the closing exercise began. This was the writing of words on the blackboard for the pupils to use in sentences. She pointed to the first word, "income."
"Who can make a sentence and use that word correctly?" she asked.
"Do call on Tim," whispered David. "He so loves to be the first to tell anything."
She smiled her appreciation of Tim's prominent characteristic, and looked at the youngster, who was wringing his hand in an agony of eagerness. She gave him the floor, and he jumped to his feet in triumph, yelling:
"In come a mouse!"
This was too much for David's composure, and he gave way to an infectious fit of laughter, in which the pupils joined.
Little Teacher found the allusion personal and uncomfortable. She at once a.s.sumed her former distant mien, demanding David's presence after school closed.
"You have no grat.i.tude, David," she stated emphatically.
The boy winced, and his eyes darkened with concern, as he remembered his mother's parting injunction.
Little Teacher softened slightly.
"You are sorry, aren't you, David?" she asked gently.
He looked at her meditatively.
"No, Teacher," he answered quietly.
She flushed angrily.
"David Dunne, you may go home, and you needn't come back to school again until you tell me you are sorry."
David took his books and walked serenely from the room. He went home by the way of Jim Block's farm.
"Hullo, Dave!" called Big Jim, who was in the barnyard.
"h.e.l.lo, Jim! I came to tell you some good news. You said if you were only sure there was something Teacher was afraid of, you wouldn't feel so scared of her."
"Well," prompted Jim eagerly.
"I thought I'd find out for you, so I took a mouse to school and let it loose."
"Gee!"
David then related the occurrences of the morning, not omitting the look in Little Teacher's eyes when she beheld Jim from the window.
"I'll hook up this very night and go to see her," confided Jim.
"Be sure you do, Jim. If you find your courage slipping, just remember that you owe it to me, because she won't let me come back to school unless she knows why I wasn't sorry."
"I give you my word, Dave," said Jim earnestly.
The next morning Little Teacher stopped at the Brumble farm.
"I came this way to walk to school with you and Janey," she said sweetly and significantly to David.
When they reached the road, and Janey had gone back to get her sled, Little Teacher looked up and caught the amused twinkle in David's eye.
A wave of conscious red overspread her cheeks.
"Must I say I am sorry now?" he asked.
"David Dunne, there are things you understand which you never learned from books."
CHAPTER XI
Late spring brought preparations for M'ri's wedding. Rhody Crabbe's needle and fingers flew in rapturous speed, and there was likewise engaged a seamstress from Lafferton. Rhody had begged for the making of the wedding gown, and when it was finished David went to fetch it home.
"It's almost done, David, and you tell M'ri the last st.i.tch was a loveknot. It's most a year sence you wuz here afore, a-waitin' fer her blue waist tew be finished. Remember, don't you, David?"
He remembered, and as she st.i.tched he sat silently reviewing that year, the comforts received, the pleasures pursued, and, best of all, the many things he had learned, but the recollection that a year ago his mother had been living brought a rush of sad memories and blotted out happier thoughts.
"I wish yer ma could hev seen Mart and M'ri merried. She was orful disapp'inted when they broke off."
There was no reply. Rhody's sharp little eyes, in upward glance, spied the trickling tear; she looked quickly away and st.i.tched in furious haste.
"But, my!" she continued, as if there had been no pause, "how glad she would be to know 't was you as fetched it around."
David looked up, diverted and inquiring.
"Yes; I learnt it from M'ri. She told me about the flowers you give him. I thought it was jest sweet in you, David. You done good work thar."
"Miss Rhody," said David earnestly, "maybe some day I can get you a sweetheart."