“Yis, mum, but with bof eyes this time, vich isn’t naughty, you know.”
“But it is naughty, sir, unless you do it with both eyes at once.”
“Oh, with bof at vunce!” exclaimed Dan, who thereupon shut both eyes very tight indeed, and then opened them in the widest possible condition of surprise.
This was too much for Sally. She burst into a hearty fit of laughter. Her class, being ever ready to imitate such an example, followed suit. Charlie tumbled forward and rolled on the grass with delight, little Dan kicked up his heels and tumbled back over the log in ecstasy, and Thursday October swayed himself to and fro, while the other two got up and danced with glee.
It was while the school was in this disorganised state that John Adams came upon them.
“That’s right, Sall,” he said, heartily, as he patted the child’s head. “You keep ’em at it. Nothin’ like havin’ their noses held to the grindstone when they’re young. You didn’t see anybody pass this way, did you?”
“No,” replied the child, looking earnestly up into the seaman’s countenance.
It was a peculiarity of these children that they could change from gay to grave with wonderful facility. The mere putting of the question had changed the current of their minds as they earnestly and gravely strove to recollect whether any one had been seen to pass during the morning.
“No,” repeated Sally, “don’t think nobody have pass this mornin’.”
“Yis, there vas vun,” said little Dan, who had become more profoundly thoughtful than the others.