"THE OCEAN EAGLE SOARED."
"That is all, I believe. If either of the ladies would like to say a few words to the children, I should be pleased to have them," said Teacher, politely, pausing before she dismissed school with a song.
"Please'm, I'd like to speak my piece," answered Miss Celia, obeying a sudden impulse; and, stepping forward with her hat in her hand, she made a pretty courtesy before she recited Mary Howitt's sweet little ballad, "Mabel on Midsummer Day."
She looked so young and merry, used such simple but expressive gestures, and spoke in such a clear, soft voice that the children sat as if spellbound, learning several lessons from this new teacher, whose performance charmed them from beginning to end, and left a moral which all could understand and carry away in that last verse:
"'Tis good to make all duty sweet,
To be alert and kind;
'Tis good, like Little Mabel,
To have a willing mind."
Of course there was an enthusiastic clapping when Miss Celia sat down, but even while hands applauded, consciences pricked, and undone tasks, complaining words and sour faces seemed to rise up reproachfully before many of the children, as well as their own faults of elocution.
"Now we will sing," said Teacher, and a great clearing of throats ensued, but before a note could be uttered, the half-open door swung wide, and Sancho, with Ben's hat on, walked in upon his hind legs, and stood with his paws meekly folded, while a voice from the entry sang rapidly:
"Benny had a little dog,
His fleece was white as snow,
And everywhere that Benny went
The dog was sure to go.
He went into the school one day,
Which was against the rule;
It made the children laugh and play
To see a dog——"
Mischievous Thorny got no further, for a general explosion of laughter drowned the last words, and Ben's command "Out, you rascal!" sent Sanch to the right-about in double-quick time.