"Fibber!" exclaimed Mercy.
"I never tell lies, Miss," said Mary Cox, tossing her head.
"Humph!" ejaculated the somewhat spiteful Mercy, "do you call yourself a female George Washington?"
"No. Marthy Washington," laughed Heavy.
"Only her husband couldn't lie," declared Mercy. "And at that, they say that somebody wished to change the epitaph on his tomb to read: 'Here lies George Washington—for the first time!'"
"Everybody is tempted to tell a fib some time," sighed Helen.
"And falls, too," exclaimed Mercy.
"I must say I don't believe there ever was anybody but Washington that didn't tell a lie. It's awfully hard to be exactly truthful always," said Lluella. "You remember that time in the primary grade, just after we'd come here to Briarwood, Belle?"
"Do I?" laughed Belle Tingley. "You fibbed all right then, Miss."
"It wasn't very bad—and I did want to see the whole school so much. So—so I took one of my pencils to our teacher and asked her if she would ask the other scholars if it was theirs.