Joe smiled to see how deep an impression this injunction made on both children.
"And all the Greys are her enemies," continued Periwinkle, "especially Mr. Robert Grey. Now I think he is a fine man."
"He is," was the warm rejoinder.
"I guess they were in love once. And then—just because of a pig—I think it's dreadful, Joe."
The boy had touched on a subject that was a matter of concern with his teacher and one to which he had given much thought.
"Peri," he cried, "if I had the chance my father has every Sunday, I would tell them that they are showing themselves to be mighty poor Christians. But then dad knows best, of course. He's had years of experience to help him. Only I don't see how he stands it. For three years he has been trying to bring the Maises and the Greys together and he is not discouraged, though I can't see any results, Peri—" Joe stopped suddenly.
"What, Joe?"
"You'll be starting to school soon. There will be Greys and Maises there. I know that if I speak to them about it—and I will—the Greys won't pitch into you unless you start something."
"I won't do it. I'd just as lief fight a Maise as a Grey any day. I ain't—b i g o t e d."
A sudden smile lit up the features of Joe Smith. It shone from his eyes, parted his lips, lurked in the dimple in his chin, and then slowly died away. His eyes held it the longest.