"That lad o' mine thinks he is o'er strict; but I think Donald doesna mind his books as he s'ould."
"Donald is o'er fond o' fun," said Annie, smiling, for she was thinking of his many pranks and grimaces behind the teacher's back.
"He is like his faither before him. I had aye mair nonsense than sense in my heid when I went to scule, and what wi' ane trick and anither my lessons cam oot slim. Ane auld maister got angry wi' me, and I will tell ye hoo it cam aboot. As I said, I was up to mony pranks, and he would aye wink at them when he could wi' ony decency; but I went too far: I tried a trick on the maister himsel; I put a bee in his bonnet. I was a'maist sorry as soon as I had done it; but a wheen o' the lads thought it was fine fun, so I didna shake it oot as I had a mind to do mair than ance. As may be supposed, the bee stung the maister on the tap o' his heid. My! but was he no ravin'! When the scule was called for the afternoon he set himsel to find oot wha had pit the bee in his bonnet. I felt my face graw red, but I took wonderfully to my books. I warrant I hadna minded them sae weel for mony a day. Weel, the maister eyed every lad in the sculeroom. After a bit he said,
"'Donald McPherson, ye arena wont to mind your book sae weel. Your conduct looks suspicious.'
"Noo I wasna a bold, hardened lad, sae I lookit mair and mair guilty.
"'Donald, ken ye hoo that bit beastie cam in my bonnet?' asked the maister.
"I didna answer him. Ane o' the lads spoke up: 'Maister, the bee could easily get in the bonnet withoot being pit there.'
"'Whist! Ye needna pit him up to lee aboot it. I ken by the look o' him that he has dune it, but he will fare better if I hae the truth frae his own mou'. Donald, I will ask ye ance mair, did ye pit that bee in my bonnet?'
"'I canna deny it, maister,' I stammered oot.
"'It is weel for you that ye didna; but ye s'all feel the tips o' the taws for a' that.'