CHAPTER XXV
EDUCATION AND ITS PERILS
It was a warm day in early August and the four children were sitting contentedly in the swing. They met almost every afternoon now, but were generally kept under strict surveillance by Miss Minerva.
“'Twon't be long 'fore we'll all hafto go to school,” remarked Frances, “and I'll be mighty sorry; I wish we didn't ever hafto go to any old school.”
“I wisht we knowed how to read an' write when we's born,” said Billy. “If I was God I'd make all my babies so's they is already eddicated when they gits born. Reckon if we'd pray evy night an' ask God, He'd learn them babies what He's makin' on now how to read an' write?”
“I don' care nothing at all 'bout them babies,” put in Jimmy, “'tain't going to do us no good if all the new babies what Doctor Sanford finds can read and write; it'd jes' make 'em the sassiest things ever was. 'Sides, I got plenty things to ask God for 'thout fooling long other folks' brats, and I ain't going to meddle with God's business nohow.”
“Did you all hear what Miss Larrimore, who teaches the little children at school, said about us?” asked Lina importantly.
“Naw,” they chorused, “what was it?”
“She told the Super'ntendent,” was the reply of Lina, pleased with herself and with that big word, “that she would have to have more money next year, for she heard that Lina Hamilton, Frances Black, William Hill, and Jimmy Garner were all coming to school, and she said we were the most notorious bad children in town.”