David took the book and went out into the old orchard. When M’ri went to call him to dinner he was sprawled out in the latticed shadow of an apple tree, completely absorbed in the book.
“You have spent two hours on your first lesson, David. You ought to have it well learned.”
He looked at her in surprise.
“I read the whole book through, Aunt M’ri.”
“Oh, David,” she expostulated, “that’s the way Barnabas takes his medicine. Instead of the prescribed dose after each meal he takes three doses right after breakfast––so as to get it off his mind and into his system, he says. We’ll just have one short lesson in geography and one in arithmetic each day. You mustn’t do things in leaps. It’s the steady dog trot that lasts, and counts on the long journey.”
When David was on his way to bring Janey 52 from school that afternoon he was again overtaken by Joe Forbes.
“Dave, I am going to Chicago in a few days, and I shall stop there long enough to buy a few presents to send back to some of my friends. Here’s my list. Let me see, Uncle Larimy, a new-fangled fishing outfit; Barnabas, a pipe; Miss M’ri––guess, Dave.”
“You’re the guesser, you know,” reminded David.
“It’s a new kind of ice-cream freezer, of course.”
“She’s going to freeze ice to-night,” recalled David anticipatingly.