He went slowly back to his old seat at the back of the room.
That evening he made a bonfire with several choice friends, and played Red Indians in the garden. There was a certain thrill in returning to the old life.
“Hello!” said his father, encountering William creeping on all fours among the bushes. “I thought you did home lessons now?”
William arose to an upright position.
“I’m not goin’ to take much bother over ’em now,” said William. “Miss Drew, she can’t talk straight. She dunno what she means.”
“That’s always the trouble with women,” agreed his father. “William says his idol has feet of clay,” he said to his wife, who had approached.
“I dunno as she’s got feet of clay,” said William, the literal. “All I say is she can’t talk straight. I took no end of trouble an’ she dunno what she means. I think her feet’s all right. She walks all right. ’Sides, when they make folks false feet, they make ’em of wood, not clay.”