“But you spect me to hear,” said she; “so it’s just the same.”
When the time came for the youngest class in the First Reader, Dotty felt a little frightened.
“I can’t read very well,” thought she, “and p’raps the teacher’ll put me down to the bottom of the foot.”
But her fears were groundless; she was placed next to the head; and though the girl above her could read as fast as a stone rolls down hill, Miss Parker said nothing about sending Dotty Dimple to “the bottom of the foot.”
“I have as nice boots as they have, and ruffles round my wrist,” thought the new pupil; “but they are all littler than me, and can read ’thout spelling the words out loud.”
This was very humiliating. Dotty’s curly head sank a little. She stepped out of line, and, closing her book, let it drop by her side.
“Raise your book, Alice, my dear,” said the teacher, kindly, “and keep your finger on the place; that is the proper way.”
“Yes’m,” replied Dotty, demurely, and opened her Reader wrong side upward, at the same time stepping forward several inches in advance of the other girls. Tate Penny tittered a little, and Dotty drew back in a moment.
“My mamma never made me stand in a straight line,” murmured she, “and I don’t know how.”
Miss Parker saw Dotty’s mortification, and hastened to soothe her.