“That’s a slate pencil, if it has got wood around it.”
“Oh, dear me! Is it?” sighed the new pupil. “And I haven’t any other here, that I can see.”
“Well, I’ll lend you one. But don’t chew the lead. I hate to have folks chew my lead pencils.”
Carolyn May promised not to lunch off of the borrowed writing instrument.
But these were not all the pitfalls into which the new pupil fell. The morning session was not half over before she wished for a drink of water. Of course, she asked her seatmate about it.
“You must raise your hand till Miss Minnie sees you. You’ll have to waggle your hand good to make her look, like enough,” added Carolyn May’s mentor. “Then, if she nods, you go back to the entry and get your drink.”
“Oh,” was the comment of the city child, and she immediately raised her hand. She did not have to “waggle” it much before Miss Minnie took notice of her.
“Well, Carolyn May?” she said.
“May—may I get a drink—please?” almost whispered Carolyn May, for she felt very much embarrassed.
Miss Minnie nodded. The little girl rose and went back to the entry on the girls’ side of the house. She looked all about this rather large square room without finding what she sought.