"Silence, s-i-l-e-n-c-e," gravely spelled Susie, while the whole meeting-house rang with the applause that greeted her.
"Next. Spell 'misery,'" sharply exclaimed Elder Keyser; and a very pretty young lady of Cobbleville was so far disconcerted by the suddenness of it, that she actually began,—
"Misery, m-i-z"—
"Wrong. Down. Example?"
"Misery—ah! nothing to eat."
Susie was safe for that round; and in the next Elder Keyser was almost spitefully slow and correct in uttering the word he gave her.
During all that time, the older people from the farmhouse had been watching the course of events with no small degree of exultation over the success of their young representatives.
Corry had joined them, and about his first remark was,—
"Oh, but won't old Keyser be a popular man in Cobbleville after to-night! He'd better go in for a donation. Half the boys in the village'd like to snowball him on his way home."
The game grew closer. Barely six on a side, when Corry exclaimed,—