"Ralph! If you throw any nutshells on that floor Mrs. Findlay will eat
you."
"I'm putting them in my pooch," he said.
"Good! Write down this sum."
"What are the others doing?" asked Simpson after a time.
"Margaret Steel and Violet Brown are reading," I said promptly. "Annie
Dixon is playing fivies on the sand, Jack White and Bob Tosh are most
likely arguing about horses, but the other boys are reading, we'll go
and see." And together we walked down the road.
Annie was playing fivies all right, but Jack and Bob weren't discussing
horses; they were reading _Chips_.
"And the scamps haven't the decency to hide it when you appear!" cried
Simpson.
"Haven't the fear," I corrected.
On the way back to the school he said: "It's all very pleasant and
picnicy, but eating nuts and sweets in class!"
"Makes your right arm itch?" I suggested pleasantly.
"It does," he said with a short laugh, "Man, do you never get
irritated?"
"Sometimes."
"Ah!" He looked relieved. "So the system isn't perfect?"
"Good heavens!" I cried, "What do you think I am? A saint from heaven?
You surely don't imagine that a man with nerves and a temperament is
always able to enter into the moods of bairns! I get ratty occasionally,
but I generally blame myself." I sent a girl for my bugle and sounded
the "Dismiss."
"What do you do now?"