“No, we wouldn’t. I think Lisa and I are both getting more sense as we grow older. Annis has done me a lot of good,” admitted Persis, candidly. “She is so sweet, and has shown me that persons need not be simply good-naturedly meek to keep out of fusses. Annis has lots of firmness of character, and she can show a disapproving silence. And then, Basil—oh, yes, Basil is a fine example of how one can disapprove silently. I’d rather he’d ‘sass me back’ at any time.”
“You still have a great deal to learn not found in school-books,” said Mr. Holmes, “although you think you are to be graduated to-day.”
“Yes, I know, ‘sermons in stones, books in the running brook,’ and all that, and I still have an ambition for more book l’arnin’, papa.”
“You’d better learn that you will need something to eat before noon,” interposed Mrs. Estabrook, looking at the scarce-touched food on the girl’s plate.
“Oh, no, grandma, I can’t eat anything more. I shall not need much breakfast, for the Juniors are going to give us a luncheon, and I shall want to save up for that. We are going to pass around the staff or wand, or whatever you call it, and each one who receives it is to respond a sort of toast, you know. I’ve written an effusion, and it’s very witty, I assure you.”
“In the sense that Prue uses witty?” inquired Mrs. Holmes, slyly.
Persis laughed, and Porter, seeing a possible joke, asked how Prue utilized the word.
“She uses witty for witless,” Persis explained. “Come, boys, help me gather the roses; and, Basil, you know you promised to arrange the bier for poor Cæsar. Nellie has written a fine parody on the famous oration, and it is to be delivered at the grave. Come, boys!” And the girl in the exuberance of her youthful spirits danced from the room as if she hardly felt the ground under her feet.
It was truly a beautiful sight to the looker-on, the young graduates, in classic attire, marching slowly down the long school-room and into the open air, the first six carrying, uplifted, the bier, upon which a tall Grecian urn, lightly draped and strewn with white flowers, was held. Into the summer-garden the little procession passed, all eyes following, and as the rose-petals fell softly from the vine above the young heads. Cæsar was buried, Nellie Hall delivering her oration with much effect.
The luncheon was pronounced a great success, and after the reception, which took place in the evening, Persis felt that this had been the happiest day of her life. All had done her honor; the sunshine of praise had shone upon her; she had been at her best all day; Mr. Danforth, Basil, Wilson Vane, had been sedulously attentive during the evening. “I know how Lisa used to feel,” thought the girl as she felt herself the centre of an admiring group. “It is nice to have attention.”