“Well, now, I'm not fine at expressing myself,” he began.
“I should think not,” put in Joel uncomplimentarily.
“Joe, you beggar, hush up!” said Jasper, with a warning pinch.
“Yes, just sit on that individual, will you, Jasper?” said Tom, over his shoulder, “or I never will even begin.”
So, Jasper promising to quench all further disturbance on Joel's part, the story was taken up.
“I can only tell a plain, unvarnished tale,” said Tom, “but it's one that ought to be told, and in this very spot. Perhaps you don't any of you know, that in Dr. Marks' school it's awfully hard to be good.”
“Is it any harder than in any other school, Tom?” asked Mrs. Fisher quietly.
Tom turned, to reply: “I don't know, Mrs. Fisher, because I haven't been at any other school. But I can't imagine a place where everything is made so hard for a boy. To begin with, there is old Fox.”
“Oh Tom!” exclaimed Phronsie, leaning forward, whereat old Mr. King laid a warning hand upon the well arm. “There, there, Phronsie; sit back, child;” so she obeyed. “But, Grandpapa, he said there was an old fox at Joey's school,” she declared, dreadfully excited, and lifting her face to his.
“Well, and so she is, Phronsie,” declared Tom, whirling his long body suddenly around, thereby receiving a dig in the back from Van, who considered him intruding on his space, “a fox by name, and a fox by nature; but we'll call her, for convenience, a person.”