“But it is a new thing for you to be a teacher,” said Jem. “Oh! he likes it. Davie’s a great man on Sunday, down in Muddy Lane.”
“Nonsense, Jem!”
“I went once,” said Jessie, “and it is very nice. Letty sings, and the children sing too. And one of the girls broke Letty’s parasol—” And Mrs Inglis’s attention being occupied for the moment, Jessie gave other particulars of the school, quite unmindful of her sister’s attempts to stop her.
Ned had something to tell, too, and entered into minute particulars about a wager between two of the boys, as to whether Mr Caldwell wore a wig or not, and the means they took to ascertain the truth about it.
“They must be rather stupid not to know that,” said Frank.
“Do you like it?” asked Philip of Violet.
“Yes, indeed! I like it very much. But I don’t like Ned’s telling tales out of school, nor Jessie, either.”
“But mine are not bad tales. I like it too,” said Jessie.
“But I should think it would be very unpleasant. And what is the good of it? Muddy Lane of all places!” said Philip, making an astonished face.
“That shows that you don’t know Aunt Mary and her children,” said Frank, laughing. “You would never ask what is the good, if you did.”