“If Bert Figger gets eight in spelling, his father’s going to give him fifty cents,” Bobby told Meg.
“You’ll get nine in ’rithmetic, I know you will,” said Meg admiringly. “You’re awfully good in that, Bobby.” 66
“Yes, I think I am,” agreed Bobby. “I haven’t missed one so far. Every answer I’ve worked out has been right.”
He repeated this assertion at the supper table that night, and Father Blossom shook his head.
“Don’t be too sure of that nine,” he said warningly. “The work is going to get harder the further you go, you know. Trying for a nine is all right, but I don’t like to hear you speak as though you didn’t have to make any effort to reach it.”
The next morning in school Miss Mason had something interesting to show her first grade pupils. It was a very beautifully illustrated book of verses for children. The poems were written by famous poets, and each poet had signed his name to his own verse. The pictures were in colors and had been painted by well-known artists, who had signed their work with a pen after the pictures had been printed. So it was really a picture book, a poem book, and an autograph album all in one.
“There are only three like it in the world,” explained Miss Mason. “They were raffled off 67 at a fair for a children’s hospital, and a friend of mine, one of the artists, won a copy. She sent it to me.”
Miss Mason said the second grade might examine the book at recess or at noon, because they had been busy with their writing lesson while she was showing it to the younger children. Then, while the first grade was set to work to make a page of “S’s,” Miss Mason called the second grade to order for their arithmetic lesson.
“You will not need pencils and paper this morning,” she announced. “We are going to have a little mental arithmetic.”
Charlie Black groaned.