Kristy's Rainy Day Picnic Part 2

"We didn't go there; we met Jule Dayton going there, so we got out at S---- Street and walked down to the river."

Helen's mother eyed the girls sharply. "You must have had a long walk."

"We did," answered Helen, "and we're awful hungry;" adding quickly as she saw another question on her mother's lips, "I'll tell you all about it after supper."

And she did. Alone with her mother the two girls confessed--told the whole story and promised never, never again to try to deceive.

"That was a good story," said Kristy, as her mother ended. "You never told me anything about that Bessie before. Do you know anything more about her?"

Kristy's manner was rather suspicious and Mrs. Crawford smiled as she answered:--

"Yes; I know a good deal about her and I'll tell you more some day."

"Tell me now!" begged Kristy; "I believe I know who she was. Was her name really Bessie?"

"No matter about that," answered Mrs. Crawford; "if I told you her real name, perhaps I shouldn't like to tell you so much about her."

"Oh, well! then you needn't; but I guess I can guess."

"I guess you can guess all you like," said mamma, smiling again.

"One thing more I remember now that happened during that famous visit, which was not quite so tragical as the death of the poor kitten."

CHAPTER III

A SCHOOLGIRL'S JOKE

The school to which Helen went--and where Bessie went with her--was not like the great schoolhouses they have now. It had but two rooms, one for girls and the other for boys. Some of the school windows opened on the street, and one morning when all was quiet in the schoolroom an organ-grinder suddenly began to play under the open windows.

The girls looked up from their books and listened, the teacher looked annoyed, but thinking he would soon go on, she waited. The girls began to get restless; study was at an end; and at last when the grinder had played all his airs and begun again, the teacher went to the door to ask him to go. In the hall she met the teacher of the boys, who was on the same errand, for the boys were all excited and getting very noisy. In fact school work was stopped in both rooms.

The man refused to move on, and at last gave as his excuse, that he had been hired by one of the scholars to play there an hour.

The teachers tried to make him tell who had hired him, and finally he said it was a small boy with red hair. Finding him determined to earn his money by playing the whole hour, the teachers went back to their rooms, sure that they knew the culprit and that he should be punished.

There was only one small boy with red hair in the school, and he was called up and accused of the prank. He declared that he knew nothing about it,--that he never did it,--and began to cry when the teacher brought from his desk a long ruler which the boys knew too well, for when one broke the rules he was punished by being first lectured before the whole school, and then ordered to hold out his hand and receive several blows from it.

The poor little red-haired boy cried harder than ever when this appeared, and again protested that he did not do it. Then a voice from the back of the room spoke timidly: "Perhaps the girls know something about it."

This was a new idea; it had not occurred to the master that the man might have told a falsehood to s.h.i.+eld the real culprit, and he laid down the ruler, telling the sobbing boy that he might go to his seat while he inquired into it. Meanwhile the organ-grinder went on with his work and the whole school was in an uproar.

When the girls' teacher heard the suggestion that perhaps some of her pupils might be guilty, she was very much vexed. But ordering all books put aside, she gave them a serious lecture on the trouble that had been made by that mischief, and then called upon the guilty one, if she were there, to rise and receive her sentence, and save the small boy sobbing in the next room from a punishment that he did not deserve.

Upon this, sixty girls--the whole room full--rose together as one girl.

The teacher was amazed--almost in consternation. She first made one of them tell the story, when it came out that it was the prank of one of their number--whose name she would not give.

"Who was it?" interrupted Kristy eagerly; "was it Bessie?"

"No," answered her mother, "not alone; but it was her cousin Helen who was full of such foolish jokes, seconded by Bessie. She had asked the organ-grinder how much he would charge to play under the school windows an hour, and when he said sixty cents, she had gone around among the girls and got a penny from each so that all should be guilty."

The teacher's next thought was how to punish sixty girls, but she was quick-witted, and bidding them resume their seats, she gave them another lecture, and then said: "Since you are all guilty, you shall all be punished."

She then ordered text-books to be laid aside and slates and pencils to be brought out--for this happened before quiet paper had taken the place of noisy slates.

Each girl produced from her desk a large slate, and waited further orders. Then the teacher wrote in large letters on the blackboard these words:--

I LOVE TO HEAR THE ORGAN-GRINDER PLAY

and ordered each girl to write that upon her slate over and over and over again for one hour.

This seemed like a very easy punishment, and then began a vigorous scratching of pencils, with shy laughing glances between the culprits, while the teacher took a book and began to read, keeping, however, a sharp eye on the pupils to see that no one s.h.i.+rked her work. When one announced that her slate was full, she was told to sponge it off and begin again.

Never was an hour so long! The lively scratching of pencils soon began to lag, and the teacher had to spur them on again, and now and then she walked down between the desks and looked at the slates to see that no one failed to obey orders.

Many eager glances were turned upon the clock; recess-time came--and went; the boys were let out and their shouts and calls came in at the window, but the silence in the room of the girls was broken only by the scratching of slate-pencils and the sighs of weary girls,--for it had long ceased to be funny.

When at last that tiresome old clock struck the hour, they were made to put away their slates and resume their lessons, and no recess at all did they have that morning.

"That was an awful funny prank," said Kristy; "and wasn't it a cute punishment!" she added, getting up to look out of the window again.

"Rain! rain! rain!" she said, in a vexed tone, "nothing but rain to-day."

"There are worse storms than rain, Kristy," said her mother.

"I don't see what can be worse," said Kristy, returning to her seat.

"What would you say to a blizzard?" asked mamma.

"What's a blizzard?" said Kristy.

"It's a kind of storm they have out on the western prairies; let me tell you about one."

CHAPTER IV