“Why?” she asked.
“'Cause you're funny,” Reginald said.
It was not strange that Arabella was angry. Would any girl be pleased to have a small boy watching her, and declaring that she was “funny?”
And now Aunt Charlotte was calling the youngest class in reading, and Reginald hastily snatched his book, and began to hunt for the lesson.
“The third page, Reginald,” said Aunt Charlotte; “you may read the first paragraph.”
He found the place, and read the lines without a mistake. It was his first term at school, but his mother had found pleasure in teaching him, and he read quite as well as some of the younger pupils.
“Read the next paragraph, Reginald,” said Aunt Charlotte.
“‘When the king rode over the highway, the sun glistened upon his,—on his,—’”
It was a word which Reginald had never seen, and he frowned until an odd little pucker appeared on his forehead.
“‘When the king rode over the highway, the sun glistened upon his,’”—again he paused. The word looked no easier this time than when he had first read the lines.