“I know something, too; I know that ‘too many cooks spoil the pudding,’” said Steve, in a tone of melancholy foreboding.
“Stephen Goodfellow, we are not cooks!” Charles retorted.
Soon afterward the plotters separated; Will, to go sorrowfully homeward; George, to hasten gladly to his parents and be congratulated on his success; Charles and Stephen to find, “soothe,” and let into their councils, the boy called Jim.
It is sufficient to say that Jim was overjoyed to take part in their plot, though vexed at them for having kept him in the dark so long, and at Will for having spoken of him as a “first-rate coward.”
Thus the bad effects of the exchanged composition were remedied, though mischief enough had been done by causing Teacher Meadows to have a bad opinion of Will. And Will, foolish boy, fancied that by this means he had been cheated out of the prize.
Perhaps it was the best thing that could possibly have happened to him, for, from that day forward, he cultivated order so assiduously and determinedly that in course of time he became more orderly than even George. He vowed to wreak dire vengeance on himself if such a mishap should ever again befall him, and it was noticed by his mother and schoolfellows that his ridiculous blunders were on the decrease. With all his belongings in perfect order, it was much easier to keep out of trouble; especially, as he was also more circumspect in all his movements than heretofore.
An additional advantage. Two bumps, one over each eye, took root, and grew, and grew, and continued to grow, till they bulged out exceedingly. Not knowing the cause of this, Will continued to cultivate order, and his bumps continued to grow and bulge out, till he became the most distinguished looking youth in the village.
Boys, never mind the bumps, but take the moral to heart, and if any of you are untidy, reform before your want of order exposes you to disgrace and pain, as Will’s did him.