"Did you read some book about birds, or did someone tell you these things that you have written?"
"These are my own ideas," Gwen answered, proudly.
"I didn't have to read or be told what to write. Mamma says I'm a genius, and she read this composition, and she said it was fine, so I don't care what you say about it!"
"You may be seated," said the teacher, but Gwen, not heeding what she said, rushed from the school-house, intent upon telling her mother how very badly she had been treated.
Miss Kenyon told the pupils that they had been rude to laugh, or make comments when another pupil was taking any part in the exercises.
They knew that, but they also knew that Gwen's composition had been "funny."
Gwen rushed home with her composition in her hand.
Of course Mrs. Harcourt praised and comforted her.
"Absurd!" she cried. "Did she wish you to consult a dictionary? Any ordinary child could do that, but to evolve such odd ideas! Why that is genius! She is dull if she doesn't know great creative genius when she sees it!"
"And must I go to school again to-morrow?" Gwen asked.