Half-Past Seven Stories Part 21

He looked out of the window. Over by the orchard, he could hear a flicker go "Rat-a-tat-tat," boring away at the old apple tree. The sun was s.h.i.+ning nice and warm, and he wondered if he couldn't climb up on his seat, and drop out of the open window, and run away ever so far.

He was supposed to "do his parents proud"; and if there was anything he hated, it was "doing somebody proud." Oh, golly!

"The boy stood on the burning deck."

Once or twice he repeated it to himself. Yes, he knew it all right.

But just then Fatty Hamm, who sat behind him, leaned over and whispered,--

"Don't forget the peanuts, Joshy!"

Jehosophat frowned and tried not to pay any attention, but the Presidentboardeducation had taken out his spectacles and was reading from a paper.

"Recitation by----." He couldn't seem to understand the name and put on his gla.s.ses a little nearer the end of his nose,

"Recitation by _Je-hos-o-phat Green_!"

How loud it sounded!

The Presidentboardeducation was looking all over the room.

"Come, come," he said, "_where_ is Jehosophat?"

Now that boy couldn't rise, for the tail of his jacket had slid down in the crack of the seat, and Fatty Hamm was holding it tight so he couldn't even move.

Again the spectacles of the Presidentboardeducation looked over the children in grave surprise. They lighted on Jehosophat.

"Come, come, my little man, there's nothing to be afraid of."

And the Presidentboardeducation smiled on him, with that sort of smile "grownups" always put on when they're going to "do something for your good," like pulling a tooth, for instance, or offering you castor oil.

There was a drone, too, of voices like the bees outside, and all eyes were looking at him. He didn't dare look at his mother, who was hoping so hard that he would "do her proud," or at his father, either. But he did glance once at the Toyman, who was sitting, looking very uncomfortable, in a boiled s.h.i.+rt and a stiff collar that almost choked his adam's apple. His hair was slicked down extra tight, too, and he kept gazing down into his new store hat. He felt very sorry for himself, and even sorrier for Jehosophat.

But the Presidentboardeducation was saying,--

"Come, come," again, and then,--

"Tut, tut!"

And all-of-a-sudden Fatty let go of his coat, and Jehosophat found himself on his feet and on his way to the platform.

He wanted to take a little of the gla.s.s of water that stood by the Presidentboardeducation--just one little sip--for his throat felt so dry and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. But he couldn't.

He made the fine bow all right, and Mother looked at Father as much as to say,--

[Ill.u.s.tration: "But then Jehosophat just had to look at Fatty, and Fatty had just put a peanut up to his mouth--as a sort of a signal, I guess--"]

"There, I knew our boy could do it."

And wonderfully he got through the first line,--"The boy stood on the burning deck."

But then he just had to look at Fatty, and Fatty had just put a peanut up to his mouth--as a sort of signal, I guess.

"The boy stood on the burning deck," repeated Jehosophat, forgetting the next line, and so having to stick to the first. He couldn't think of anything but Fatty's grinning mouth and that peanut.

"The boy stood on the burning deck," he called, louder than before.

"The boy stood on the burning deck," still louder.

"Yes, yes, my little man," said the Presidentboardeducation, still with that smile that Jehosophat hated so, and before he knew it he was shouting right back at the spectacles:--

"Eating peanuts by the peck.

His father called 'e wouldngo _Causehelovedispeanutsso!"_

Yes sir, he shouted the last line oh, so loud, like a little bull, right in the Presidentboardeducation's face. And the Presidentboardeducation was so startled that he almost knocked the pitcher of water off the table. And the teacher's gla.s.ses fell off her nose, and she seemed to be unable to find them in her embarra.s.sment--and then--the whole audience roared till the walls of the little Red Schoolhouse echoed to their laughter, and Jehosophat saw Fatty slapping his fat legs in delight.

Meanwhile, Jehosophat wasn't losing any time. He just hurried to the window, climbed up on the seat, then on the sill, and dropped on the soft gra.s.s below, and ran up the road towards home, just as fast as he could travel.

He hadn't gone far when he heard someone calling,--

"Hey, Sonny!"

He turned with relief.

There was the Toyman, his long legs fast catching up with the runaway.

And the same old smile was on the Toyman's face.

And when the long legs had caught up with the short ones, the Toyman put his arm around the boy's shoulders, and they walked along like--well, like two old chums.

What was finest, too, was that he never mentioned the cause of Jehosophat's trouble and embarra.s.sment, which is what no really true friend ever should do.

At last Jehosophat asked,--

"Where we goin'?"

"Let's go fis.h.i.+n'--I hate speeches," the Toyman replied.

"I made a silly, a fool of myself, didn't I?" said Jehosophat.

"Not by a long sight," the Toyman replied. "You see, sonny," he went on to explain, very soberly, "that's an old piece of yours and out of date. Now they're making new arrangements and editions of books and po'try all the time. They just change with the times. And yours is a heap better than the old piece, anyway you look at it."

Jehosophat wasn't quite so sure. But, anyway, they had a great time "fis.h.i.+n'."

XI

OLE MAN PUMPKIN