The schoolroom bell rang while I was talking to Jack; so of course I had to go, and it was fully half an hour before he walked in and took his place. His face was very red, even his ears, and he didn't look happy; but it wasn't until after school that I had a chance to ask him anything, and he wasn't very amiable then. He had a book,—some story of wild adventure and hair-breadth escape, and he hated to be interrupted. For all that Jack is such a quiet, gentle sort of a boy, he likes to read the most exciting books, about fighting and shipwrecks and savages,—though I'm sure if an Indian should walk into the room, he'd fly into the remotest corner of the closet and hide,—and the hymns he loves the best are the ones that bring in about war and soldiers. You should hear him sing, "The Son of God goes forth to war," in church! he positively shouts. So when I said, "Well, Jack, how'd you get along this morning?" he went right on turning over the leaves to find his place, and answered shortly:—
"Oh, no play out-of-doors for a week, and a double dose of that vile Latin, and a sound rating for getting into a row on the street,—that's all."
"But didn't you tell him—" I began indignantly, but Jack interrupted.
"He didn't ask why I did it, and I didn't tell him," he said.
"What a silly you are!" I cried, I was so mad! "That Henderson ought to be told about and punished—now!"
"Henderson is a beast!" Jack said severely; then, having come to his place in the story, he added: "Now please go away, and don't bother me, Betty; I want to read." He settled himself on the schoolroom sofa in his favourite position, with his back against the arm of the sofa, and his legs straight out along the seat, and began to read. I knew he'd get cranky if I said any more, so I went away.
But for all that he called Henderson names, what did Jack do but go and make friends with him just a day or two after he was allowed to go out!
I was so provoked when I heard of it, that I fairly stormed at Jack; he took it all in the meekest way, and when I finished up,—with a fine attempt at sarcasm,—"If I'd been you, I would have snubbed such a mean boy for at least a week longer," he grinned and said, "If you'd been I, you'd have done just as I did." Then he added, in that old-fashioned, confidential way he has, "I couldn't help it, Betty; you see the boys wouldn't have a thing to do with him, or let him join in any of the games, until I had forgiven him, and I just couldn't stand seeing him hanging around and being snubbed."
"Oh, yes, you're very considerate for him; but he will make fun of your brother again to-morrow, if he feels like it," I said, still angry.
"No, he won't" asserted Jack, positively; "'cause I told him—not disagreeably, you know, but so he'd feel I was in earnest—that if he ever did, I'd just have to thrash him again. And he said, 'A-a-h, what d'you take me for? D'you s'pose I knew 'twas your brother?' And that's a good deal from Henderson, for he's an awfully rough boy. You know, Betty, you've got to make allowances for people, or you'd never get along with 'em. And, besides, he looks worse than I do," went on Jack, feeling of his nose and forehead. "I really felt ashamed to think I'd hit him so hard, and,"—shuffling his feet, and looking very sheepish,—"well, you know, the Golden Rule is my motto for this year, and, as I thought to myself, what's the use of a motto, if you don't act up to it? So I just made friends with Henderson. I knew you'd say I was silly to do it, but I don't care,—I feel better; I do hate to be mad with people!" And with that he walked off, before I could think of anything to say.