Heart of Gold | Page 5

so bare now. The grass was all dead when she fell asleep last Fall, and only the ugly ground shows now--just the size of the bed they laid her in. We're going to cover it with the flowers she liked best, first the wild ones from the woods, and then the garden blossoms--pansies and forget-me-nots and English daisies. I know where the prettiest vi'lets grow,--just scads and oodles of 'em--down by the stone bridge over Bartlett's Creek in Parker; and Hicks is going to help us transplant them. Only it's too early yet. They aren't even up through the ground now. But it won't take long, with days like this. It's hard to study with Spring smelling so d'licious right under your nose. Doesn't it make you want to get out and jump rope and play marbles and leap-frog, and--and just jump and skip and yell? I can pretty near fly with gladness!"
Peace turned a radiant face toward the silent woman, and was dismayed to find tears glistening in the cold gray eyes. "Oh!" she exclaimed in deep contrition, "what is the matter? Did I--what have I said now to make you squall?"
"Nothing, dear," smiled the teacher, wiping away the telltale drops with a hasty whisk of her handkerchief. "I--I just saw in my mind a picture of the little old cottage where I used to live, and it made me homesick, I think. My head aches, too,--"
"Then you mustn't let me keep you here," cried the child, forgetting that she had been bidden to remain after school as a punishment for inattention. "You better go right home, drink a cup of good, hot tea, and go to bed. That'll make you feel all right by morning, I know, 'cause that's the way we fix Grandpa up when his head bothers. Here's your hat and coat. Just breathe in lots of air, too. It's pretty muddy under foot to walk very far, but the fresh air will do you good."
Before the woman could realize how it happened, Peace had coaxed her into her wraps, slipped on her own, and hand in hand with the astounded teacher was walking demurely down the muddy street, still chattering gayly. At the corner, faithful Allee awaited the coming of her unfortunate sister, and Peace, seeing the yellow curls bobbing under the blue stocking cap, gave the teacher's hand a parting squeeze, waved a smiling good-bye, and skipped off beside the younger child as if there were no such a thing as being kept in after school.
"O, Allee," Miss Phelps heard her say as they pelted down the avenue, "do you s'pose Grandma'll let us go over to Evelyn's to play? It's dry enough, I'm sure."
"Cherry's gone on ahead to find out," Allee panted. "They are going to play anti-over,--Ted and Johnny and all the rest."
"Goody! I just know Grandma won't put her foot down. It's such a lovely day! Hear that robin say, 'Spring is here, Spring is here!' S'posin' we were robins, Allee, and had to hunt up horse-hair and hay to build our nests of--"
"Peace! Allee! Hurry up. We are already to play," screamed Evelyn Smiley, leaning over her gate and beckoning wildly to the racing girls. "Your grandmother says you can stay till five o'clock. Ted's 'it' this time. Johnny has a dandy ball, and we are going to play over the house."
"Oh!" cried Peace incredulously, "that's so high!"
"All the more fun," answered Ted, joining them at the gate.
"But we might break some windows."
"Fiddlesticks! Our ball is big and soft Couldn't break anything with it. 'Tain't like Fred's hard rubber one. Come on. This is my side of the house. You take the other."
The rest of the dozen children gathered on the front lawn scuttled away to the place designated, and the game was on. Such laughing and shouting, such running and dodging! Once Edith Smiley, Evelyn's aunt, beloved of all the children, came to the window and watched the boisterous, exhilarating frolic with an anxious pucker between her brows. "I am afraid someone will get hurt, Mother," she said in answer to the white-haired grandmother's questioning glance.
"How can they? Seems to me they are playing a very harmless game."
"But the house is too high for 'anti-over.' They should have taken the garage."
"Nonsense! They are developing muscle. Watch that Peace fling the ball. She can throw almost as well as a boy."
"The lawn is so slippery--"
"They are nimble on their feet, and the ground is soft."
Edith retired to her piano practise and the mother resumed her knitting with her usual tranquillity. Suddenly above the soft strains of music that filled the house, rose a yell of dismay from a dozen throats outside.
"What's happened?" Edith glanced apprehensively toward the door.
"Their ball is caught on the roof," answered her mother, still smiling placidly.