“I don’t believe I would—even if I could. School isn’t half bad—once you’re used to it; there’s lots of fun going, though there are some tiresome things mixed up in it. Aunt Lucinda says,” Blue Bonnet’s eyes danced, “that I need the discipline of school life more than any girl she has ever known. There, I’d nearly forgotten! Please lend me your knife a moment, Uncle Cliff,—I’ve lost mine.”
“It appears to me,” Mr. Ashe commented, opening his knife for her, “that that pencil ought to be placed on the retired list.”
“It isn’t as bad as the rest,” she held out her pencil box; “I do chew them up, or down, so.”
“How about buying more?”
“I—” Blue Bonnet hesitated. Why had she called his attention to them? “I’m—going to, the first of the month.”
“‘The first of the month,’” her uncle repeated. “Is that one of the school regulations?”
“Hardly!” Blue Bonnet laughed. “You see, I’m—allowanced nowadays. Aunt Lucinda started in allowancing me—after the first week. She said I must learn to distinguish between the use and abuse of money.”
Mr. Ashe pulled at his moustache. “And—”
“It hasn’t been such an easy lesson for me. Just now I’m being given a practical illustration.”
“You don’t mean, Blue Bonnet—” Mr. Ashe’s hand went to his pocket.