"Now, my little girl," said Mrs. Maynard, very seriously, "you must try to conquer that mood. You know you have to go to school, so why not make the best of it? You don't really dislike it as much as you think you do. So, cheer up, little daughter, and run along, determined to see the bright side, even of school."
"I will try, Mother," said Midget, smiling, as she received her good-bye kiss, "but I'll be glad when it's one o'clock."
"I wiss me could go to school," said Rosy Posy, wistfully; "me an' Boffin, we'd have fun in school."
"There it is," said Mrs. Maynard, laughing. "Little girls who can go to school don't want to go, and little girls who can't go do want to!"
"You'll go some day, Baby," said King, "but they won't let you take Boffin."
"Den I won't go!" declared Rosy Posy, decidedly.
The three walked down the path to the gate, and, soon after they reached the street, they were joined by several others, also schoolward bound.
Marjorie's spirits rose, as she chatted with the merry young people; and as they passed the Fulton house, and Dick and Gladys came out, Marjorie was so glad to see her friend that she was at once her own happy, merry little self again.
Miss Lawrence's room was one of the pleasantest in the big brick building. When Marjorie and Gladys presented themselves at her desk, and asked if they might sit together, the teacher hesitated. She wanted to grant the request of the little girls, but they had been in her class the year before, and she well knew their propensities for mischief.
"Oh, please, Miss Lawrence!" begged Marjorie; and, "Oh, do say yes!" pleaded Gladys.