And she went off into what, it must be admitted, was, for a young amateur, a very fair imitation of a hysterical fit.
The mother, much concerned, told Bobbie that he would have to be taken at once to the Superintendent. The father of a cottage opposite appeared. Interference by boys with girls, said the father, was just the one thing that had to be punished for more than anything. Could not be permitted for a single moment—not for a single moment.
“Why, what’s anyone to do,” stammered the boy, indignantly, “when they see a big girl like her ill-using another ’alf her size?”
The father said that it was not for Bobbie to interfere.
“I simply separated of ’em,” pleaded the boy. “She was using the little girl something crool, and—”
“Perjerer!” interrupted Miss Nutler, reviving for this purpose. She closed her eyes again, and hammered at the ground with her heels.
“And I particular don’t want to get into no trouble just now. I’ll explain it all to-morrow.”
The father said that to-morrow would not do. Bobbie must go along with him now to the Superintendent’s house, the while the mother would use her best endeavours to restore Miss Nutler. The latter task proved to be one of no difficulty, for the young woman, on the palms of her hands being slapped, re-opened her eyes, and said, faintly,—
“Where am I? Tell me, someone! Is it all a ’orrible dream?”
The Superintendent, ordinarily a cheery man, whistled gravely as he listened to the report against the boy standing at the other end of the table.