THE OLD WOMAN AGAIN
Several boys and girls seated near Bert had seen him snap the paper
cracker. Of course they would never “tell on him,” but they gave him
sidelong glances to see if he would accept the “invitation” of the
teacher.
“I am waiting,” went on Miss Riker, in a quiet voice. “I want the boy—I
don’t think it was one of the girls—I want that boy to come up to my
desk.”
The room again became very still and quiet.
And then, slowly, like the little man he was, Bert arose in his seat. He
was rather pale, for he realized that he had done a wrong thing. But he
was not going to sneak out of it.
“I snapped the cracker, Miss Riker,” he said slowly.
“Oh, Bert! I’m so sorry!” was the teacher’s answer. “Come up here and
sit in the front seat. The others go on studying.”
That was Miss Riker’s way. She never punished a pupil at once when rules
were broken. She wanted to think over it quietly and have the pupil
think of it, so she always asked the boy or girl who had been
disobedient to come to the front seat.
Bert knew what this meant. He would be kept in after school, perhaps
made to write “disorderly” five hundred times or do some other “punish
lesson.” And he was trying so hard for a perfect mark this last month of
school! Too bad!
Well, it was his own fault—he knew that.
Slowly he made his way to the front seat, the eyes of every other boy
and girl in the room looking at him. Miss Riker did not look at him.
That would come later.
“Five minutes more of study and then I’ll hear the geography class,”
Miss Riker announced, and this set the laggard ones feverishly to
studying, some murmuring over and over again the location of the Cape of
Good Hope, which was the easiest thing to remember about Africa.
Bert was not allowed to recite with the others. He was kept in the front
seat and began to feel very uncomfortable. He wished Miss Riker would
tell him how she was going to punish him, and have it over with.
But when the time came to dismiss the pupils for the day, the teacher
said:
“You may all go now except Bert Bobbsey.”
This was to be expected.
Slowly Nan, with a sad look on her face for her brother’s plight,
marched out of the room with the others. Miss Riker busied herself with
some papers at her desk. Bert sat in the front seat. Then the teacher,
looking up, saw Danny Rugg in his seat. He had remained after the
others.
“Why, Danny!” exclaimed Miss Riker in surprise, “I didn’t tell you to
stay in. You didn’t snap a paper cracker, did you?”
“No’m,” murmured Danny rather bashfully. “But I—I doubled-dared Bert to
snap his, and that’s why he did it. I—now—I wanted to tell you.”
“Oh!” was all Miss Riker said, but there was a strange look on her face.
“Yes’m,” murmured Danny, though, really, he did not know why he said it.
Again the room became very quiet, only the clock ticked loudly—oh, so
loudly!
Then, with a smile, Miss Riker said:
“Well, Bert, I think you needn’t stay in any longer. I was going to give
you a punish lesson, but as long as Danny has been brave enough to
remain and confess his part of it—though really you shouldn’t do a
thing just because you are dared to do it—I think, after all, that I
will let you both go home. You won’t crack any more snappers—or snap
any more crackers—in school hours, will you, Bert?”
“No’m! Never any more!” he said very earnestly.
“And you won’t dare him again, Danny?”
“No’m! I never will—in school!”
“Then you both may go.”
“Thank you,” mumbled the boys, as they found their caps and departed.
Miss Riker smiled. She knew this had been the best “punish lesson” she
could have set.
“Say, wasn’t she nice!” exclaimed Danny, when he and Bert were outside.
“Crickity grasshoppers, she sure was!” declared Bert. “I didn’t exactly
mean to snap that cracker, anyhow.”
“I didn’t think you’d do it, even after I doubled-dared you,” remarked
Danny.
“I was just going to make believe, but when my arm got going I couldn’t
seem to stop it,” explained Bert. “Say, did it crack loud?”
“Loud? It was like a gun!” And both boys laughed.
Of course Bert had to tell his mother, for she asked why he was late
coming from school. She warned him to be more careful and to pay better
attention to his lessons, but she did not scold. She thought Miss Riker
knew how to manage her pupils.
The next day was Friday, and when the hour for geography study came in
Miss Riker’s room she rather surprised the pupils by saying:
“You need not take out your geographies this time.” Then, as she saw
surprised looks cast at Bert she added: “It isn’t because of what
happened yesterday. Bert isn’t going to crack any more snappers. But I’m
going to teach you geography in a new way. We are all going out to Pine
Hill and from there we can look down on Lake Metoka. We shall see little
bays, capes, peninsulas, islands, and many other formations that you
have been studying about in the geography class. Now we are really going
to see them as they are in nature.”
You can imagine what delightful excitement there was then! To study
outside the classroom! What a change! Miss Riker led forth the boys and
girls, and, as they left the school yard, marching two by two as they
did at fire drill, the teacher further surprised her pupils by saying:
“You may talk all you wish, but I’d rather you would talk about
something connected with geography. If any of you see a brook that looks
like a little river, tell the rest of us.”
More wonders! To be allowed to go out of the classroom in school hours
and then to talk! The children could hardly believe it. Miss Riker heard
Nan Bobbsey and Nellie Parks timidly whispering.
“You may talk out loud,” she said, smiling.
Was it possible? It was, as the boys and girls soon found out. And then,
how they talked!
“I see a brook!” cried Nan, presently.
“Yes, and I see a pond that might almost be a lake,” added one of the
other girls.
“Yes, and there’s an island in the lake,” put in Bert, quickly, and he
pointed to a small heap of dirt in the center of the pond. This remark
made everybody laugh.
“I see a cliff,” said another boy, and pointed to the edge of a steep
hill.
From Pine Hill they could look down on the lake and could see many
natural formations that, in miniature, resembled the larger ones told
about in the geography. Miss Riker had the boys and girls name the
different formations of land and water.
“It was the nicest lesson we ever had!” said Nan Bobbsey, at home that
night.
“Dandy!” declared Bert. “I wish she’d take us fishing some time!”
“Maybe she will!” chuckled Mr. Bobbsey.
“Hush! Not so loud!” cautioned Mrs. Bobbsey, coming from a bedroom.
“I’ve just gotten Baby May to sleep!”
The next day was Saturday, and of course there was no school.
“Though if it was all like the geography lesson yesterday I wouldn’t
mind going to school on Saturdays,” said Bert, as he looked for his cap
to go out to play.
“Neither would I,” agreed Nan. “Mother, may I take Baby May out in the
baby carriage?” she asked.
“In a little while you and Flossie may wheel her,” said Mrs. Bobbsey. “I
don’t like Flossie to take her alone, as she’s been teasing to do.”
“Well, I’m going over and play ball with the other boys,” announced
Bert.
Just then the telephone rang.
“It’s your father,” announced Mrs. Bobbsey, after listening a moment.
“He says,” she went on, “that he has to go to Menton on some business in
the auto, and he wants to know if you two would like to ride with him,”
and she looked at Bert and Nan. Flossie and Freddie were out in the yard
playing.
“Oh, would we!” cried Nan, clasping her hands in joyful anticipation.
“When is he coming?”
“I’d rather ride with dad than play ball,” declared Bert.
“You’re to go down to the lumberyard and he’ll wait for you there,” said
Mrs. Bobbsey. “Don’t say anything about it to Flossie or Freddie, else
they’ll tease to go, and I can’t let them.”
So Bert and Nan departed quietly by the side gate and were soon hurrying
to their father’s office on the lumber dock that extended out a long way
into Lake Metoka.
“What to you suppose daddy’s going over to Menton for?” asked Nan.
“Oh, he buys lumber there,” replied Bert, who had been to this
neighboring city once or twice before with his father. “I guess that’s
what he’s going to do this time.”
And this, the children learned when they reached the office, was exactly
Mr. Bobbsey’s errand to Menton. This city was about fifteen miles from
Lakeport.
“Well, children, I hope I didn’t take you away from your studies or your
home work,” said Mr. Bobbsey, with a smile, as Nan and Bert walked up to
where he waited in the car.
“Oh, Daddy! As if we’d study on _Saturday_!” cried Nan.
“Not me!” declared Bert.
“Then we’ll declare a holiday!” laughed their father. “All aboard!”
It was a pleasant day, the roads were good, and they had a delightful
trip to Menton. Bert and Nan were treated to ice-cream soda in a drug
store while their father did what business he had to look after. Then
they started back.
As they drove past the Menton railroad station Nan suddenly caught hold
of her father’s arm and exclaimed:
“Look! There she is again!”
“Who?” asked Mr. Bobbsey.
“That old lady—the one with the faded shawl and the green umbrella—the
old woman who left Baby May on our doorstep!” gasped Nan excitedly.
“Where is she?” her father cried.
“Look! She’s just getting on the train,” said Nan, for a train was about
to leave the station.
“Oh, I see her!” cried Bert. “It’s the same old woman!”
“I must stop her! I must speak to her!” cried Mr. Bobbsey. “It’s lucky
you saw her! I say there! Hi, madam! I want to talk to you! Wait a
minute!” he called loudly, as he drove the automobile as close to the
track as he dared go.