“Spelling is about all I know,” said Tom, the next morning, as he and Bob and the others wended their way to school.
“Good at it, are you?” asked Frank.
“Ought to be. My father wouldn’t get me my bicycle last year until I had the whole spelling book perfect from end to end. Say, you’ll just see me shine to-day.”
After recess, the teacher named those who were to do the spelling. Jed Burr was absent, but two or three of his chums were on the list.
“Alphabet,” “ardent,” “alder,” “animal,” “beauty,” “blanket”—there were no mistakes so far. Miss Smith gave out “cote.”
“C-o-a-t,” said Sammy, proudly.
“Next.”
“C-o-t-e,” spelled Bob.
Everybody laughed at this.
“Correct,” said the teacher, “I should have explained that the word meant a pigeon-house.”