KING'S BASE AND A SPELLING-LESSON
As the three who usually gave the most trouble on the playground, as
well as in school, were now in detention at every recess, the boys
enjoyed greatly their play during these three days.
It was at this time that they began to play that favorite game of
Greenbank, which seems to be unknown almost everywhere else. It is
called "king's base," and is full of all manner of complex happenings,
sudden surprises, and amusing results.
Each of the boys selected a base or goal. A row of sidewalk trees were
favorite bases. There were just as many bases as boys. Some boy would
venture out from his base. Then another would pursue him; a third would
chase the two, and so it would go, the one who left his base latest
having the right to catch.
Just as Johnny Meline was about to lay hold on Jack, Sam Crashaw, having
just left _his_ base, gave chase to Johnny, and just as Sam thought he
had a good chance to catch Johnny, up came Jack, fresh from having
touched his base, and nabbed Sam. When one has caught another, he has a
right to return to his base with his prisoner, unmolested. The prisoner
now becomes an active champion of the new base, and so the game goes on
until all the bases are broken up but one. Very often the last boy on a
base succeeds in breaking up a strong one, and, indeed, there is no end
to the curious results attained in the play.
Jack had never got on in his studies as at this time. Mr. Williams took
every opportunity to show his liking for his young friend, and Jack's
quickened ambition soon put him at the head of his classes. It was a
rule that the one who stood at the head of the great spelling-class on
Friday evenings should go to the foot on Monday, and so work his way up
again. There was a great strife between Sarah Weathervane and Jack to
see which should go to the foot the oftenest during the term, and so win
a little prize that Mr. Williams had offered to the best speller in the
school. As neither of them ever missed a word in the lesson, they held
the head each alternate Friday evening. In this way the contest bade
fair to be a tie. But Sarah meant to win the prize by fair means or
foul.
One Friday morning before school-time, the boys and girls were talking
about the relative merits of the two spellers, Joanna maintaining that
Sarah was the better, and others that Jack could spell better than
Sarah.
"Oh!" said Sarah Weathervane, "Jack is the best speller in school. I
study till my head aches to get my lesson, but it is all the same to
Jack whether he studies or not. He has a natural gift for spelling, and
he spends nearly all his time on arithmetic and Latin."
This speech pleased Jack very much. He had stood at the head of the
class all the week, and spelling did seem to him the easiest thing in
the world. That afternoon he hardly looked at his lesson. It was so nice
to think he could beat Sarah Weathervane with his left hand, so to
speak.
When the great spelling-class was called, he spelled the words given to
him, as usual, and Sarah saw no chance to get the coveted opportunity
to stand at the head, go down, and spell her way up again. But the very
last word given to Jack was _sacrilege_, and, not having studied the
lesson, he spelled it with _e_ in the second syllable and _i_ in the
last. Sarah gave the letters correctly, and when Jack saw the smile of
triumph on her face, he guessed why she had flattered him that morning.
Hereafter he would not depend on his natural genius for spelling. A
natural genius for working is the best gift.