936 Clinton Avenue
MY DEAR MR. WADSMORE,—
On close questioning, I find that my son Charles was actuated in his dare-devil adventure of leaving for school at six-thirty o’clock on the first morning of the blizzard by a desire to win a purple-chalk star. He knows that he very nearly lost his life, and he is hoping that his rash act may be rewarded in the foolish way I mentioned above. He considers that he is a hero, unappreciated at home, and he is working himself into a fever over the whole thing.
I am a plain man [Miss Prawl’s eyes wandered to the coat of arms] and I greatly disapprove of such methods in education. Unless you can do away with your purple-star system immediately, I shall be obliged to transfer Charles to another private school which is nearer, and therefore more convenient.
Awaiting your reply, I am
Very truly yours,
CHARLES AUGUSTUS STARR.
Miss Prawl read the note in a flash, snatched up the eraser, rubbed out the purple star, opened the chalk box, and dropped the purple chalk in the wastebasket.
'What Theodora said about the purple star is quite true,' she said, soberly. 'And I shall never give any one a purple star. Never!'
As Mr. Wadsmore left the room with an approving smile at Miss Prawl, Theodora’s eyes grew soft and bright, and she sighed with pathetic relief. For the first time since she had heard of the purple star, the world seemed altogether right.