Charles and his friend set to work to gather sticks for me, and saved me the trouble of rushing every now and then for fuel to keep up the fire. Then they hurried away to the school-house, but promised, excitedly, to come back as soon as they could.
Charles returned and asked me where I was going to, and what was my name and where I'd come from. I told him, and he took out a pocket-book and pencil and wrote all down.
Then other boys came and watched me make my coffee. The boys—they were all under twelve—had bunches of white lilac fixed in their coats. I sat and ate my food and chattered.
"Is the lilac for your teacher?" I asked of a boy.
"I guess not," he replied.
There was a look of disgust on his face.
"Is your teacher strict?"
"Some."
The boys all sat or sprawled on the grass and chaffed one another.