The solemnity of the girl's voice impressed so that they looked at each other in silent fear.
"I just don't believe a word of it," declared Janey Day, drawing a long breath. "My father's a good man and goes to church and reads the Bible every night. He's read it through more than fifty times, and he's never said a word about the world coming to an end. And he's building a new house for us to move into next spring."
"Fifty times, Janey Day! It takes a long, long while to read the Bible through. My grandmother's read it all through twice, and she's awful old."
"Well—twenty times at least. And don't you 'spose he'd found something about it?"
"Everybody can't tell. It's in Daniel. There's days and times to be added up."
"Five of you, Janey," said the wit with a child's irreverence.
"Just when is it coming to an end? Girls, there's no use to study any more lessons."
"It will be next week," said Hester with almost tragic solemnity. "But you must all go on doing your work just the same."
"I don't see the sense. I've just begun fractions, and I hate them. I won't do another sum."
The bell rang and recess was at an end. The girls straggled until they reached the doorway, then suddenly straightened themselves into an orderly line and took their seats quietly. There was a sound of rapidly moving pencils—slates and pencils were in full swing then. No one had invented "pads."