Ned was coming down the steps, the traces of tears still on his cheeks, when he heard Frank’s remarks.
The crimson on his face gave place to the white hue of anger, as he walked up to Frank and said:
“You lie. I dare you to try it.”
Frank looked sheepish, but the boys were all around him, and he felt that he must fight, so, laying down his books, he met Ned.
What a momentous subject of interest is a fight between school boys! A duel between senators excites not more proportionate attention.
These only passed a couple of blows, then clinched and fell, Frank underneath. What digging in the ground with heels and toes! Frank trying to wring his body from under Ned, and Ned trying to hold him down; while the enthusiastic spectators clapped their hands and shouted as the tide of battle wavered:
“Oh my, Ned! Hold him down! Turn him over, Frank! Throw out your leg and push! Jerk his hands up, Ned,” etc., etc.
After several futile struggles Frank gave up, cried “Enough!” and both arose considerably soiled and blown.
I took Ned in charge, and we started home, I brushing the dirt from his clothes, and endeavoring to remove all traces of the conflict.