"Hate school?" cried Mother Fisher. "Oh, Joey! think how Ben wanted
more schooling, only he wouldn't take the chance when Mr. King offered
it to him because he felt that he must be earning money as soon as
possible. Oh, Joey!"
That "Oh, Joey!" cut deeply. Joel winced and burrowed deeper under his
mother's fingers.
"That's just it," he cried. "Ben wanted it, and I don't. I hate it, and
I don't want to go back."
"Don't want to go back?" repeated Mrs. Fisher in dismay.
"No, I don't. The fellows are always twitting me, and every one gets
ahead of me, and I'm everlastingly staying in from ballgames to make up
lessons, and I'd like to fire the books, I would," cried Joel with
venom.
Mrs. Fisher said nothing, but the hands still stroked the brown stubby
head in her lap.
"And nobody cares for me because I won't be smart like the others, but
I can't help it, I just hate school!" finished Joel in the same strain.
"Joel," said Mrs. Fisher slowly, "if that is the case, I shall go down
to Mr. King and tell him that we, Father Fisher and I, Polly and
Phronsie, will not go abroad with him."
Joel bolted upright and, putting down his two hands, brought his black
eyes to bear on her.
"What?"
"I shall go directly downstairs and tell Mr. King that Father Fisher
and I, Polly and Phronsie, will not go abroad with him," repeated his
mother slowly and distinctly while she looked him fully in the face.
"You can't do that," said Joel in amazement. "He's engaged the
state-rooms."
"That makes no difference," said Mrs. Fisher, "when a woman has a boy
who needs her, nothing should stand in the way. And I must stay at home
and take care of you, Joel."
Joel sprang to his feet and began to prance up and down the floor. "I'm
big enough to take care of myself, mother," he declared, coming up to
her, to prance off again.
"So I thought," said Mrs. Fisher composedly, "or I shouldn't have
placed you at Mr. Marks's school."
"The idea, Mamsie, of your staying at home to take care of me," said
Joel excitedly. "Why, feel of that." He bared his arm, and coming up,
thrust it out for inspection. "Isn't that splendid? I do verily believe
I could whip any fellow in school, I do," he cried, regarding his
muscles affectionately. "If you don't believe it, just pinch them hard.
You don't mean it really, Mamsie, what you said, of course. The idea of
staying at home to take care of me," and he began to prance again.
"I don't care how many boys you can whip," observed Mother Fisher
coolly, "as long as you can't whip your own self when you're naughty,
you're too weak to go alone, and I must stay at home."
Joel stopped suddenly and looked at her.
"And before I'd give up, a boy of thirteen, and beg to be taken away
from school because the lessons were hard, and I didn't like to study,
I'd work myself to skin and bone but I'd go through creditably." Mrs.
Fisher sat straight now as an arrow in her corner of the sofa. "I've
said my say, Joel," she finished after a pause, "and now I shall go
down and tell Mr. King."
"Mother," howled Joel, dashing across the room to her, "don't go! I'll
stay, I will. Don't say that again, about my having to be taken care of
like a baby. I'll be good, mother, and study."
"Study doesn't amount to much unless you are glad of the chance," said
Mrs. Fisher sharply. "I wouldn't give a fig for it, being driven to
it," and her lips curled scornfully.
Joel wilted miserably. "I do care for the chance," he cried; "just try
me, and see."
Mrs. Fisher took his sunburnt face between her two hands. "Do you
really wish to go back to school, and put your mind on your books? Be
honest, now."
"Yes, I do," said Joel, without winking.
"Well, you never told me a lie, and I know you won't begin now," said
Mother Fisher, slowly releasing him. "You may go back, Joe; I'll trust
you."
"Phronsie," said Jasper, as the sound of the two voices could be heard
in Mother Fisher's room, "don't you want to come into my den? I've some
new bugs in the cabinet--found a regular beauty to-day."
Phronsie stood quite still just where Joel had left her; her hands were
clasped and tears were rolling slowly down her cheeks. "No," she said,
without looking at him, "Jasper, I don't."
"Do come, Phronsie," he begged, going over to her, and holding out his
hand. "You can't think how nice the new one is, with yellow stripes and
two long horns. Come and see it, Phronsie."
"No, Jasper," said the child quietly. Then in the next breath, "I think
Joey must be very sick."
"Oh! Mamsie is taking care of him, and he'll soon be all right," broke
in Polly cheerily. "Do go with Jasper, Phronsie, do, dear." She took
hold of the clasped hands, and smiled up into the drooping face.