IN RHE SSE RAE ES BO ke

“Oh! nothing very bad,” smiled the blessed old man. “I was a boy once.
Haven't forgotten it. Firing peas, ma’am.”

«Tet me catch one of them!” said Miss Carberry, as grimly as if she were
an ogre or a dragon, instead of a very pretty young woman with pink cheeks and
the brightest brown eyes in the world. Every boy on the back seat shook in
his shoes.

“Oh! ain’t it jolly fun?” chuckled Patsy in his closet ; and he began boring —
more “cannon holes,” as he called them. Six in all he made. And an old
pointer or two made excellent carriages to mount his popgun battery on.

It was so hot in there that by and by Patsy got tired. He wanted a drink
of water more than ever. At last he snuggled down in a heap of dusty maps
and fell fast asleep.

‘Meantime a thunder-cloud had rolled up big and black out of the west. The
three old men said they must be going. Miss Carberry looked nervously at the
ragged black sky, and thought of her new hat with the daisies on it.

“Let the school out,” said the committee, “and one of us will take you
home.”

In two minutes the schoolroom was empty; the little girls were scampering
home with their aprons over their heads ; Miss Carberry was spinning along in
the musty-smelling chaise, and the school-
house door was locked —with Patsy left
fast asleep in the “ ’Pratus-box.”

About nine o’clock that night Miss
Carberry dropped the comb she was draw-
ing through her long brown hair and broke
it into half a dozen pieces.

“You poor dear little thing!” she
said, gazing at itin horror; but she didn’t
mean the comb.

Before you could tell of it, she had
tucked the brown hair up under a turban,
snatched up a half-eaten box of bon bons,
whisked downstairs into the pantry for
cakes and cold chicken, and was darting
along the rose-hedged lane that led to the
schoolhouse. ,

Patsy heard the brass key in the door
and began to cry as loud as he could.
Miss Carberry was glad to hear that. Patsy came out quicker than he went in,
and Miss Carberry drew down his frowsy, cobwebbed head into her lap and
cried too.

“Tm so sorry, Patsy !— here, take a cream-cake — do forgive me, won’t you?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“ AIN’T IT JOLLY FUN??? CHUCKLED PATSY.