“Oh, of course she gets along fine!” exploded Arne. “She always has her lessons, and she behaves like a little lady.” The mincing tone he assumed almost made Mother and Besta smile, though they realized very well that this was no laughing matter. “Herr Professor likes Bergel, but he sure doesn’t like me. I might just as well stop trying to please him.”
“Oh, don’t do that, Arne,” urged Bergel. “You’ll get used to him. And he does know a lot.” She wished from the bottom of her heart that Herr Professor would say “well done” to Arne once in a while. He did do well in his history and arithmetic.
“Well, have some lefse and some ost and try harder tomorrow,” said his mother sensibly. “You’ll get along all right if you pay attention and study.”
Arne took the lefse, but it didn’t taste as good as usual. It didn’t seem to him he could ever learn to get along with Herr Professor Engstrand. It certainly looked as if he were headed for trouble. And with Christmas coming, too.
But he did make an effort, and school went better for some time.
Bergel mentioned it with pleasure as they walked home one afternoon. “You’re really doing fine in school, Arne,” she said. “You haven’t been in a bit of trouble lately. Herr Professor hasn’t even had to look your way. I bet you could be right up at the head of the class if you’d try.”
“There are so many things I like to do better than to have my nose in a book,” said Arne carelessly. “I like to work out in the workshop for one thing. Right now,” he added, his face brightening, “I’m working on—” Then he broke off abruptly and laughed. “Can’t tell you what—it’s a surprise.”
“Oh, go on, tell me,” coaxed Bergel, but Arne only shook his head mysteriously.
“You’ll see,” was all he would say. “I’d better be getting home to get at it. There’s a lot left to do if I’m going to have it ready in time.”