CHAPTER V.
THE BLOTTED WRITING-BOOK.
THERE were loud demonstrations of joy among the juvenile members of the household, one morning, when Marcus handed a letter to Kate, for Mr. Upton, the principal of the academy, and informed them that it contained his acceptance of the office of assistant teacher in that institution, for the winter term. The appointment had been offered him several weeks previous, and had been the subject of much consideration on the part of Marcus, and of no little interest, also, among the children, who were all anxious to have Marcus for a teacher, notwithstanding he repeatedly forewarned them, that if he should show them any particular favor as their instructor, it would only be by looking more sharply after them than he did after the other scholars.
“Three cheers for Master Page!” shouted Ronald, and they were given, with as much power as four noisy throats could command.
“You know me, Marcus,—you’ll excuse me from writing compositions, wont you?” inquired Kate, when the noise had subsided.
“You know me, too, Marcus,—you wont make me speak pieces, will you?” said Otis.
“You know me, Master Page,—you wont make me do any thing, will you?” added Ronald, capping the climax.
“Yes, I know you, you young rogue, and if you don’t walk straight you’ll catch it!” said Marcus, in reply to the last speaker.
Ronald did not take the admonition much to heart; but concluded his demonstrations of delight by throwing his cap over an apple tree, turning two somersets, and crowing like a “rooster,” whose clarion notes he could imitate with ludicrous fidelity. Then, leaping upon the back of Otis, who with Kate was just starting for school, he disappeared; but his voice was uppermost among the joyous shouts and laughter that came across the fields long after their departure.
Kate and Otis did not usually go home from school at noon, but carried their dinners with them, the distance being too great to walk. Ronald, however, generally dined at home, the district school, which he was now attending, being less than a mile distant from Mrs. Page’s. In the course of the forenoon, before the hour of school dismission, as Marcus was at work throwing up muck from a meadow, he was surprised to see Ronald approaching, on the road leading to the house. “He must be sick,” thought Marcus, as he noticed how slowly he walked, and how silent and dejected he appeared. What a change had come over the light-hearted boy, within two hours!
Ronald appeared to hesitate a moment, and then turned into the meadow, towards Marcus. As soon as he was within speaking distance, the latter inquired what the matter was. Ronald made no reply until he had reached the place where Marcus stood, and then he exclaimed:—