"I don't know," said Moses. "But I thought if the boys wouldn't pay five cents, I'd take four."
"I'll tell you what 'tis, Moses," said Phaeton; "we're badly crowded with work just now, and it would accommodate us if you could wait a little while. Suppose you engage your actors first, and rehearse the pieces that you're going to play, and get the barn rigged up, and burn the cork, and make up your mind about the price; and then give us a call, and we'll be happy to print your tickets for you."
"All right," said Moses. "I'll go home and burn a cork, right away."
And he went off, whistling "O Susanna."
"Fay, I think that's bad policy," said Ned, when Moses was out of sight.
"I don't see how you can say that," said Phaeton.
"It's as plain as day," said Ned. "We ought to have gone right on and printed his tickets. Suppose he hasn't any show, and never will have one—what of it? We shouldn't suffer. His father would see that our bill was paid. I've heard Father say that Mr. Green was the very soul of honor."
"Ah, Ned, I'm afraid you're getting more sharp than honest," said Phaeton.
From the fact that our school has hardly been mentioned in this story, it must not be inferred that we were not all this time acquiring education by the usual methods. The performances here recorded took place out of school-hours, or on Saturdays, when there was no school. The events inside the temple of learning were generally so dull that they would hardly interest the story-reader.
Yet there was now and then an accident or exploit which relieved the tediousness of study-time. On one occasion, Robert Fox brought to school, as part of his luncheon, a bottle of pop-beer. An hour before intermission we were startled by a tremendous hissing and foaming sound, and the heads of the whole school were instantly turned toward the quarter whence it came. There was Fox with the palm of his hand upon the cork, which was half-way in the bottle that stood upon the floor beside his desk. Though he threw his whole weight upon it, he could not force it in any farther, and the beer rose like a fountain almost to the ceiling, and fell in a beautiful circle, of which Fox and his bottle were the interesting centre.