Anna Maria S. was eleven years of age. She was a graceful little person, with large round blue eyes, rosy cheeks, and a quantity of short, curly, golden hair. Her face was very bright; she had the appearance of being uncommonly clever. But she was eminently a chatter-box.
This fact soon made itself felt. Miss Matilda had scarcely placed her at a desk, and bowed Madam Grandma out of the school-room, when the chattering commenced. Anna Maria leaned over and whispered something to the girl on her right hand, then something to the one on the left, then a word to the one in front of her, then a word to the one behind her. Miss Matilda looked at her gently, then gently reprovingly, then reprovingly, then sternly, and all the glances were totally lost on Anna Maria. Miss Matilda benevolently thought, Perhaps this child has never been to school before.
"Anna Maria," she said, in a serious tone.
"What, ma'am?" said Anna Maria, looking up with perfect innocence in her clear blue eyes.
"Did you ever attend school before?"
"Oh dear yes! Why, I went when I was only three years old. First I went to Mrs. McToole's, and then I went to Miss Smith's, and then I went to Mr. Brown's, and then—"
"There, that will do," exclaimed Miss Matilda. "You can tell me the rest some other time. What I wish to know now is, were you allowed to talk as much as you pleased in those schools?"
"Well, I don't know as I was," replied Anna Maria, looking down, and blushing a little.
"The rule here," continued Miss Matilda, "is silence. I hope, my dear, that you will never speak except when it is absolutely necessary."
"Yes, ma'am," said Anna Maria, in a subdued tone, after which she closed her lips very tightly.