CHAPTER V.
THE BOY THAT WORE HOME THE MEDAL.
The school-house was deep red, and shamed the Boston pinks, which could not blush to the least advantage near it. It stood on a sand-bank, with a rich crop of thistles on three sides, and an oak tree in one corner. There were plenty of beautiful places in town; but the people of Perseverance, District Number Three, had chosen this spot for their school-house, because it was not good for anything else.
It was the middle of September, but the summer term was still in session, because school had not begun that year until after haying. It was Saturday noon, and the fourth class was spelling. The children were all toeing a chalk-mark in the floor, but Willy Parlin scowled and moved about uneasily.
"Order there," said Miss Judkins, pounding the desk with her ruler. "What makes you throw your head back so, William Parlin?"
"'Cause there's somebody trying to tell me the word, and I don't want anybody to tell me," answered Willy, with another toss of his dark locks.
Fred Chase was sitting on a bench behind the class, with an open spelling-book before him, and was the "somebody" who had been whispering the word to Willy; but Willy was naturally as open as the day, and despised anything sly. More than that, he knew his lesson perfectly.
Miss Judkins asked no more questions, for she was well aware that Fred Chase was constantly doing just such things. She smiled as she looked at Willy's noble face, and was well pleased soon after to hear him spell a word which had been missed by three boys above him, and march straight up to the head. She always liked to have Willy "Captain," for deep down in her heart he was her favorite scholar. There were only a few more words to be spelled; then Willy called out "Captain," the next boy said "Number One," the third "Number Two," and so on down the whole twenty; and after that the school was dismissed for the week.
The "mistress" put on her blue gingham "calash,"—a big drawn bonnet shaped like a chaise-top,—and as she was leaving the house she whispered to Willy, "Don't forget what I told you to say to your mother."
"No, marm; you told me to say you'd asked Mrs. Lyman if it was so, and Mrs. Lyman said, 'Yes, it is too true.'"