"Well, of all things!" she cried, when at last she had made sense out of the fearfully spelled note.
"Poor, wild Gyp! Who ever dreamed that he had a heart or a conscience! Indeed he shall be my friend if that will keep him from annoying me, and perhaps I can find a way to befriend him.
"Everyone is ready to lift a hand against him, so that there is nothing to tempt him to be really good, nor to encourage him to try.
"Strange little Arab! I wonder what prompted him to give his store of nuts to me, and really that fearfully spelled note has a bit of sincerity in it. I must tell John Atherton about it. I'll keep the note, and show it to him."
Often she paused to take the note from its retreat behind the clock, read it, and replace it. She looked from the window whenever she passed it, but not a glimpse of Gyp did she obtain.
She could not imagine what had caused the little imp to leave his gift of nuts at her door, or yet more wonderful, what had prompted him to write his friendly little note. Its outrageous spelling was droll, but its kindly spirit was evident. He had attended school because he was compelled to, but he had paid but little attention to his books.
The note had kept him busy for fully a half hour, and he considered it a fine specimen of letter writing when it was completed.
He thought that few boys could have done better, and he felt that in writing it, he had literally "covered himself with glory."