But here the little lady was in grievous error, for when she, resignedly obedient, approached the small rascal, he promptly burst into tears and, dropping on the floor, hid his head under the bench. This was more than Bessie had bargained for, and she was about to motion Milly to return to her seat when Patsy, a youth with carroty red locks already mentioned, rose from his place on the front bench, burning with the noble flame of self-sacrifice.
"She can kiss me instead, teacher," he announced heroically, "and you can let Dicky off this time."
Bessie laughed outright in spite of herself, but Milly, regarding Patsy's suggestion as nothing short of positive insult, turned her back on the admiring gaze of the gallant youth.
"I think we will excuse you, Patsy. Dicky is punished sufficiently, and I fancy Milly will behave herself in the future."
Patsy sat down with a gulp of regret, not comforted by Milly's whisper:
"I 'd do anything rather than kiss that red-headed monkey."
Micky, to whom she had imparted this welcome information, nodded approval.
"Wait till I catch him after school," he murmured hostilely. "I 'll dust his jacket for him."
Meanwhile Bessie had rescued Dicky from his grief and apprehension, and, when the curly-headed youth had had his nose blown and resumed his seat, school assumed its wonted quiet until the sight of a tiny mouse nibbling a bit of cracker under an unoccupied bench drew forth a scream of terror from Milly, who considered herself entitled by age to the enjoyment of all the follies peculiar to her sex.
"A mouse!" she shrieked. "Oh, teacher, teacher, save me!"