Heart of Gold | Page 2

teacher's manner that someone was out of order. Instantly a pencil rapped sharply on the desk, and forty-nine pair of inquisitive eyes jerked quickly to the front again. But the fiftieth pair continued to stare out of the window, until in exasperation the woman's voice rasped out, "Peace Greenfield, will you please give me your undivided attention?"
With a start of horrified surprise the culprit awoke from her daydreams, to discover that she was flapping her outstretched arms in either aisle like some exultant cockerel just ready to crow. Abashed and dismayed at having been caught napping, she thrust her hands hastily into her desk, seized her geography, and scrambling to her feet, started for the front of the room, remembering that her class was the next to recite. The children tittered, and Peace, much amazed to find that no one followed, paused uncertainly, searched her brain desperately to recall the teacher's command, and then glibly recited, "Brazil is bounded on the north by--"
The scholars burst into a howl of derision, and poor Peace slumped into her seat, covered with confusion. Even the tired teacher smiled at the child's discomfort, but immediately rapped for order, and said sternly, "Rest position, please! The geography and reading classes will not recite this afternoon. I shall read to you from our book of mythology, and when I have finished, I shall expect you to repeat the story. What was the last we read about?"
"The wooden horse in the siege of Troy," shouted a score of voices.
"Correct," smiled the teacher faintly. "And today I shall tell you about Ganymede and how he was connected with the other characters we have been studying. Ganymede--repeat the name after me."
"Ganymede," roared the obedient scholars.
"Ganymede," whispered Peace to herself. "Ganymede--what a funny name! I wonder if he was any relation to those folks Hope was talking about last night. They were Medes and--and Persians. I d'clare, I 'most forgot that word. Hist'ry like Hope's must be int'resting. I'll be glad when I get big enough to study about the Goffs and Salts and--and Sandals and the rest of that bunch." She meant Goths and Celts and Vandals, but somehow words had a bad habit of getting sadly mixed up in that active brain which tried to absorb all it heard; and she was always making outrageous speeches in consequence.
"I don't like mythology. What do we care about Herc'les and his sore heel, or Helen or Hector?--I wonder if that's the man Hec Abbott was named after? I'd rather--My! what a lovely day it is for March! No wonder the doves are talking. Wouldn't I like to be up on that barn roof in the sun! Bet I'd do some talking too. S'posing I was a really dove. What fun it would be to fly away, away up in the blue sky. I wonder if they ever bump into the clouds. There goes a white cloud skimming right over the sun. Now it's gone and we're in the shine once more. Queer how it can shine in spots and be cloudy in spots at the same time. That's like laughing with one eye and bawling with the other. I don't b'lieve a body could ever do that. Wish I could, just to see what it would feel like.
"'Twon't take many days like this 'fore the grass begins to grow and the leaves to come. The trees are budded big now. I am crazy wild for the cowslips and vi'lets to get here. Hicks promised to help us plant some flowers on our Lilac Lady's grave. It looks so bare and lonely now with the snow all gone, and only that tall white stone to tell where she is. I know where the loveliest yellow vi'lets grow."
"Peace Greenfield!"
Again Peace came to the earth with an abruptness that left her breathless and quaking. "Yes, ma'am," she responded meekly.
"You weren't paying attention, were you?" demanded the long-suffering teacher.
Peace pondered. She could scarcely say "yes" truthfully, and yet her intentions were good. She had not meant to lose herself again, nor did realize how very little she had heard of the story which the teacher had been reading.
"Were you?" repeated Miss Phelps relentlessly.
"Partly," Peace responded haughtily.
The woman gasped; then as the scholars giggled, she said sternly, "Tell us what the story was about."
Peace opened her mouth. "Gan--" she began and halted. What had the story been about? Rapidly she searched through her memory. It was such a funny word. How could she have forgotten it?
The children sniggered audibly.
"Gan--what?" urged the weary teacher sarcastically.
O, yes, now she remembered it! "Gandermeats and pigeons," triumphantly finished Peace, with a saucy toss of her head.
There was a moment of dead silence in the room; then a jeering shout rose from forty-nine throats. But it was instantly quelled by