The new teacher had not collected her ideas yet.

"Let's get our books together," said Susy, "and then we'll all sit on the sofa and study."

"Me, me," chimed in Dotty Dimple, dropping the little carriage in which she was wheeling her kitty; "me, too!"

"Well, if you must, you must; snuggle in here between Flossy and me,"

said Susy, who was determined that to-day everything should go on pleasantly.

"Sixteenth cla.s.s in joggerphy," said Miss Rosy Frances, peeping severely over her spectacles. "Be spry quick!"

The three pupils stood up in a row, holding their books close to their faces.

"Thee may hold out your hands now, and I shall ferule thee--the whole school," was the stern remark of the young teacher, as she took off her spectacles to wipe the holes.

"Why, we haven't been doing anything," said Ruthie, affecting to cry.

"No, I know it; but thee'd _ought_ to have been doing something; thee'd ought to have studied thy lessons."

"But, teacher, we didn't have time," pleaded Flossy; "you called us out so quick! Won't you forgive us!"

"Yes, I will," said Rosy Frances, gently; "I will, if thee'll speak up _'xtremely_ loud, and fix _thine_ eyes on thy teacher."

The pupils replied, "Yes, ma'am," at the top of their voices.

"Now," said Rosy Frances, appearing to read from the book, "where is the Isthmus of _Susy?_"

The scholars all laughed, and answered at random. They did not know that their teacher was trying to say the "Isthmus of Suez."

The next question took them by surprise:--

"Is there any man in the moon?"

"What a queer idea, Rosy," said Susy; "what made you ask that?"

"'Cause I wanted to know," replied the Quaker damsel. "They said he came down when the other man was eatin' porridge. I should think, if he went back up there, and didn't have any wife and children, he'd be real lonesome!"

This idea of Prudy's set the whole school to romancing, although it was in the midst of a recitation. Flossy said if there was a man in the moon, he must be a giant, or he never could get round over the mountains, which she had heard were very steep.

Ruthie asked if there was anything said about his wife! Susy, who had read considerable poetry was sure she had heard something of a woman up there, named "Cynthia;" but she supposed it was all "moonshine," or "made up," as she expressed it. She said she meant to ask her aunt Madge to write a fairy story about it.

Here their progress in useful knowledge was cut short by the disappearance of Dotty. Looking out of the window, they saw the little rogue driving ducks with a broomstick. These ducks had a home not far from Mrs. Parlin's, and if Dotty Dimple had one temptation stronger than all others, it was the sight of those waddling fowls, with their velvet heads, beads of eyes, and spotted feathers. When she saw them "marshin'

along," she was instantly seized with a desire either to head the company or to march in the rear, and set them to quacking. She was bareheaded, and Susy ran down stairs to bring her into the house; and that was an end of the school for that day. Dotty Dimple was something like the kettle of mola.s.ses which Norah was boiling, very sweet, but very apt to _boil over_: she needed watching.

When Norah's candy was brought up stairs, the little girls p.r.o.nounced it excellent.

"O, dear," said Flossy, "I wish our girl was half as good as Norah! I don't see why Electa and Norah ain't more alike when they are own sisters!"

"What dreadful girls your mother always has!" said Susy; "it's too bad?"

"I know of a girl," said Prudy, "one you'd like ever'n, ever so much, Flossy; only you can't have her."

"Why not?" said Flossy; "my mother would go hundreds of leagues to get a good girl. Why can't she have her?"

"O, 'cause, she's _dead!_ It's Norah's cousin over to Ireland."

They next played the little game of guessing "something in this room,"

that begins with a certain letter. Ruthie puzzled them a long while on the initial S. At last she said she meant "scrutau" (escritoire or scrutoire), pointing towards the article with her finger.

"Why, that's a _writing-desk_," said Susy. "I don't see where you learn so many big worns, Ruthie."

"O, I take notice, and remember them," replied Ruthie, looking quite pleased. She thought Susy was praising her.

"Now let _me_ tell some letters," said Prudy.

"L.R. She lives at your house, Flossy."

n.o.body could guess.

"Why, I should think _that_ was easy enough," said Prudy: "it's that girl that lives there; she takes off the covers of your stove with a clothes-pin: it's 'Lecta Rosbornd.'"

The little girls explained to Prudy that the true initials of Electa Osborne would be E.O., instead of L.R. But Prudy did not know much about spelling. She _had_ known most of her letters; but it was some time ago, and they had nearly all slipped out of her head.

She said, often, she wished she could "only, only read;" and Susy offered to teach her, but Mrs. Parlin said it would never do till Prudy felt stronger.

I will tell you now why I think Susy did not understand her mother when she said Annie was not a suitable playmate. In the evening, after Ruthie and Flossy were gone, Susy said to her mother,--

"I feel real cross with Ruthie, mamma: I think she puts herself forward.

She goes into a room, and no matter how old the people are that are talking, she speaks up, and says, 'O, yes, I know all about it.' I never saw such an old-fashioned little girl."

"Very well," said Mrs. Parlin; "if _she_ is rude, take care that the same fault does not appear in yourself, Susy."

"But, mother," said Susy, suddenly veering about and speaking in Ruth's favor, "I don't know but it's proper to do as Ruthy does. If you know something, and other people don't, ain't it right to speak up and say it?"

"It is never right for little girls to _monopolize_ conversation, Susy; that is, to take the lead in it, and so prevent older people from talking. Neither is it proper to pretend to know more than we do, and talk of things beyond our knowledge."

"I knew you would say so, mother. I just asked to hear what you would say. I know Ruthie is ill-mannered: do you think I ought to play with her any more?"

Mrs. Parlin looked at Susy in surprise.

"Why, you know, mother, you wouldn't let me play with Annie Lovejoy. You said, 'evil communications corrupted good manners.'"

"But can't you see any difference in the cases, Susy? What a muddy little head you must wear on your shoulders!"

"Not much of any," said Susy, trying to think; "they're both _bold_; that's what you don't like."

"Anything else, Susy?"

"O, yes, mother; Ruthie's good, and Annie isn't. It was queer for me to forget that!"