Sonny's got a mighty noble disposition, though, take him all round.
Now, the day he slipped down that chimbly an' run away he wasn't a bit flustered, an' he didn't play hookey the balance of the day neither. He thess went down to the crik, an' washed the soot off his face, though they say he didn't no more 'n smear it round, an' then he went down to Miss Phoebe's school, an' stayed there till it was out. An' she took him out to the well, an' washed his face good for him. But nex' day he up an' went back to Mr. Clark's school—walked in thess ez pleasant an' kind, an' taken his seat an' said his lessons—never th'owed it up to teacher at all. Now, some child'en, after playin' off on a teacher that a-way would a' took advantage, but he never. It was a fair fight, an' Sonny whupped, an' that's all there was to it; an' he never put on no air about it.
Wife did threaten to go herself an' make the teacher apologize for gittin' the little feller all sooted up an' sp'iln' his clo'es; but she thought it over, an' she decided thet she wouldn't disturb things ez long ez they was peaceful. An', after all, he didn't exac'ly send him down the chimbly nohow, though he provoked him to it.
Ef Sonny had 'a' fell an' hurted hisself, though, in that chimbly, I'd 'a' helt that teacher responsible, shore.
Sonny says hisself thet the only thing he feels bad about in that chimbly business is thet one o' the little swallers' wings was broke by the fall. Sonny's got him yet, an' he's li'ble to keep him, cause he'll never fly. Named him Swally Jones, an' reg'lar 'dopted him soon ez he see how his wing was.
Sonny's the only child I ever see in my life thet could take young chimbly-swallers after their fall an' make em' live. But he does it reg'lar. They ain't a week passes sca'cely but he fetches in some hurted critter an' works with it. Dicey says thet half the time she's afeerd to step around her cook-stove less'n she'll step on some critter thet's crawled back to life where he's put it under the stove to hatch or thaw out, which she bein' bare-feeted, I don't wonder at.
An' he has did the same way at school purty much. It got so for a-while at one school thet not a child in school could be hired to put his hand in the wood-box, not knowin' ef any piece o' bark or old wood in it would turn out to be a young alligator or toad-frog thawin' out. Teacher hisself picked up a chip, reckless, one day, an' it hopped up, and knocked off his spectacles. Of cose it wasn't no chip. Hopper-toad frogs an' wood-bark chips, why, they favors consider'ble—lay 'em same side up.
It was on account o' her takin' a interest in all his little beasts an' varmints thet he first took sech a notion to Miss Phoebe Kellog's school. Where any other teacher would scold about sech things ez he'd fetch in, why, she'd encourage him to bring 'em to her; an' she'd fix a place for 'em, an' maybe git out some book tellin' all about 'em, an' showin' pictures of 'em.
She's had squir'l-books, an' bird-books, an' books on nearly every sort o' wild critter you'd think too mean to put into a book, at that school, an' give the child'en readin'-lessons on 'em an' drawin'-lessons an' clay-moldin' lessons.
Why, Sonny has did his alligator so nach'l in clay thet you'd most expec' to see it creep away. An' you'd think mo' of alligators forever afterward, too. An' ez to readin', he never did take no interest in learnin' how to read out'n them school-readers, which he declares don't no more'n git a person interested in one thing befo' they start on another, an' maybe start that in the middle.