“School! School!” said Nancy Brown, her face dimpling with happiness. “Don’t mention the hateful word. I am as full of mathematics and history and physics and Latin as a black cake is of plums.”
“Plums!” echoed Billie. “I’m stuffed with another variety of fruit. It’s dates.”
They laughed at the word dates; for, remembering dates, aside from mathematics, was the bête noir of Billie’s school days and the teacher of history was very unpopular because she made the pupils of her classes learn six dates a day.
“But the class is even with Miss Hawkes now,” put in Nancy. “She isn’t to come back next year, and we gave her a present besides.”
“Why did you give her a present?” asked Miss Campbell, suddenly becoming curious.
“Well, you see, at the end of school we reckoned we had learned about 800 dates, not that we could remember 100 or even 50. It was Elinor who thought of it and because she has more nerve than any one else in the class——”
“Indeed I have not,” protested Elinor.
“Because she was never afraid even of the terrifying Miss Hawkes, she was chosen to make the speech and give Miss Hawkes a present from the class.”
Miss Campbell smiled. She was never tired of listening to their school-girl talk.
“What did you say and what was the present, my dear?”