it was broad daylight when anson, in response to an angry call from the bottom of the stairway, sat up in bed. vaguely he realized that in some dire way this glad morning proclaimed a day of doom, but his drowsy senses were still leaping vast chasms of dreamland—striving to slip from the control of saner reasoning and drift away with a happy abandon of dire results to follow. what boy has not had the same experience, even although he knew that a razor-strop, wielded by a vigorous hand, would in all probability accomplish quickly what his drowsy will had failed to accomplish? anson was just dropping off into the lulling arms of morpheus when that extra sense, possessed by all boys in a measure and by certain boys in particular, warned him back to wakefulness and a realization of his danger.

he was out of bed and pulling his braces over his shoulders by the time the heavy footsteps of his mother sounded at the top of the stairs.

"you, anse!" came mrs. wilson's voice. "have i gotta limber you up with the strap, after all?"

"comin', ma," responded anse, sleepily.

"well, you'd best come quick, then. you'll be gettin' enough hidin's today—if that new teacher's any good—without me havin' to wear my arm out on you 'fore breakfast."

anson stood still, fumbling the buttons. so that was it! school! he knew it was some awful catastrophe. where was billy? he glanced across at the other bed. billy was not in it. he went slowly downstairs, washed himself, and went in to breakfast. billy was not there. his father was just getting up from the table.

"where's bill?" anson asked him.

"down feedin' his pets, most likely," answered his father as he went out. a moment or two later billy came in. the boys seated themselves in their places and ate their breakfast in silence.

"is our dinner up, ma?" billy asked, as he pushed back his chair.

mrs. wilson nodded. "it is. two pieces of bread an' butter an' a doughnut an' a tart fer each of you. is it enough?"

"i guess so," billy replied indifferently.

anson eyed him suspiciously, then turned to his mother. "i wish't you'd do our dinners up separate, ma," he whined.

"why?" asked mrs. wilson, in surprise.

"well, 'cause bill hogs it, that's why," complained anson. "last time we had tarts i didn't get none. an' it's the same with pie an' cake."

mrs. wilson gazed sternly at billy. "willium, do you take anson's tarts and pie?" she asked ominously.

"yes, ma'am," answered billy, promptly.

"there now!" exulted anson, glancing triumphantly at his mother, who sat staring and incredulous at the unabashed offender.

billy looked gravely down at his accuser, then apprehensively at his judge. as no immediate sentence seemed forthcoming he turned toward the door.

"stop!" mrs. wilson had risen suddenly from her chair and stood pointing an accusing finger at billy.

"you'll ketch it fer this, an' don't you ferget it," she stormed, "an' if i ever hear of you gobblin' up anson's share o' the lunch ag'in, you young glutton, you'll go to school fer a month without any lunch a'tall."

billy turned. "i didn't say i ate anson's pie an' cake, ma," he said gently. "i didn't take it 'cause i wanted it."

"then why did you take it a'tall, i want'a know?"

"i took it 'cause i thought it was bad fer him. you see, ma, anse suffers turrible from indigestion," billy explained. "'course maybe you don't notice it same as i do, 'cause you don't sleep in the same room with him. but ma, he groans an' gasps all night—an' he has the most awful dreams—now don't you anse?" he asked, turning to his brother.

anson started to whimper. "i do have bad dreams," he confessed miserably, "but pie an' tarts ain't to blame fer it."

"silence, you!" mrs. wilson reached for the dinner-pail and proceeded to extract from it one tart, one doughnut. "i guess maybe your brother's right," she said grimly. "if that's the way you carry on nights we'll hold you off pastry fer a while. now then, grab that pail and off to school with both o' you!"

billy was outside first and waiting for anson at the road gate when he came down the path, dejectedly wiping his eyes and vowing inaudible threats at the agent of his new woe.

"now, then," said billy as he came up, "maybe you'll begin to see that it don't pay to blab so danged much."

"it was dirty mean of you," sniffled anson. "you know how much i like pie an' tarts; an' here i am havin' to lug yourn an' gettin' none fer myself. fer two cents i'd chuck this dinner-pail in the crick."

"an' fer two cents i'd punch that crooked eye of yourn straight," cried billy, his temper rising. "you'd best close your mouth while the closin's good, an' if anythin' happens to that pail you're goin' to hear from me."

they passed on in silence until the hardwood grove came in sight. here billy paused. "you go on, anse," he said. "i'm goin' over to the menagerie fer a look over things. an' see here." he grabbed his brother's shoulder and swung him about. "i'm goin' to tell you something an' if you so much as peep it to ma i'm goin' to pass the word to ringdo an croaker that they're free to do what they like to you; see?"

anson shuddered. "aw, who's goin' to peep?' he returned.

"all right then. now listen. this mornin' i tied my sunday clothes up an' throwed 'em out our winder. then i got up an' sneaked 'em over to the menagerie. i'm goin' to wear 'em to school. never you mind why, it's none of your business. when i blow into school this mornin' dressed to kill i don't want you to look too darned surprised, that's all. now if you'll keep your mouth shut tight about that i promise not to let my witch-coon an' witch-crow eat you while you sleep; an' i'll tell you what else i'll do, i'll give you my tart an' my doughnut. is it a bargain?"

anson nodded eagerly.

"all hunky. now you move along, an' if you happen to meet fatty watland, er maurice, er any other boys, don't you let on a word about this."

"i won't," promised anson. "cross my heart, bill."

billy ducked into the path through the grove and anson resumed his reluctant pace toward the valley school. on the bridge across levee creek he came up with elgin scraff. elgin was standing with his arms on the bridge rail, looking dejectedly down into the water.

"hello," anson accosted. "goin' to school?"

elgin lifted his head slowly. "yep, you?"

anson nodded and set the dinner-pail down on the bridge.

"where's bill?"

"he'll be along soon. here he comes now; no 'taint neither, it's fatty watland. wonder where he's been up that way?"

watland came puffing up, his round face red and perspiring. "gee!" he panted, "i've been all the way to the store. had to get some sulphur fer ma. she found a wood-tick that old sport scratched off him on the floor, an' she swears it's a bed-bug; an' now she's goin' to burn this sulphur in all the rooms."

a grin rippled across his face and grew into a chuckle. "i bet i sleep in the barn fer a week. i sure hate the smell of sulphur."

"come on," said elgin, "let's move on down to the sehoolhouse." side by side the three passed on up the hill and down into the valley.

the sehoolhouse stood with a wide sloping green before it and a tangle of second growth forest behind it. it was not an old building, but had the appearance of senile old age. its coat of cheap terra-cotta paint had cracked into many wrinkles; its windows looked dully out like the lustreless eyes of an old, old man. the ante-room roof had been blown off by a winter's gale and replaced inaccurately, so that it set awry, jaunty and defiant, challenging the world. its door hung on one hinge, leaning sleepily against a knife-scarred wall. a rail fence ran about the yard which was filled to choking with a rank growth of smart-weed. in one corner of the yard was a well with a faded blue pump holding the faded red arm of a handle toward the skies, as though evoking high heaven to bear witness that it was never intended to lead such a lonely and useless existence.

the boys approached the building slowly and as they neared its sombre portals silence fell upon them. they opened the creaking gate and entered the building much after the manner of heroes who must stand blindfolded against a wall and wait the word "fire!" they had to go through with it, that was all.

the building held all the unmistakable odors of a school room. the smell of chalk dust, mouldy bread crusts, mice, dirty slates and musty books rose up to smite the arrivals. four rows of pine seats, blackened with ink-daubs and deeply scarred by pocket-knives, ran the entire length of the building. a big box stove stood in the centre of the room, its wavering pipe supported by wires from the ceiling.

walter watland looked about for a good place in which to conceal his package of sulphur and decided that in the empty stove he had discovered the place of all places. so, while anson and elgin were investigating the teacher's desk and picking out their seats, he proceeded to hide his sulphur in the stove's black depths. then he went outside with his companions to await the coming of the new teacher.

scarcely had the three seated themselves on the top rail of the yard fence than from all directions other pupils of the settlement began to arrive. sand sharkers, sullen and defiant, holding themselves apart, came in one big group.

jim scroggie entered the school yard with his sister by his side. he paused a moment to let his eyes stray to the faces of the three hopefuls on the fence, conjecturing with a boy's intuition that in this trio he saw some of the ring-leaders of the school. jim wore a smart tweed coat and knickerbockers, and a shirt of grey flannel with a soft silk tie. his sister, lou, was dressed daintily in white, with soft blue collar that matched the glorious depths of her eyes. she smiled now, and the three on the fence immediately underwent a change of heart. elgin scraff was the first to slide down and approach the new boy in a spirit of fellowship.

"hello," he said genially. "i've got a crackin' good seat. you kin set with me if you like."

jim shook his head. "promised billy wilson i'd sit with him," he said. "kin you tell me where he's goin' to sit?"

elgin was about to answer when he caught a gasp from the watchers on the road. "teacher's comin'!" went forth the cry.

down the hill came a thin, rangy bay horse, astride which, an open book in his hand, sat mr. g. g. johnston. as he drew up in front of the gate he closed the book and turned his frowning eyes on the building. utterly ignoring the awed, watching faces he shook his head grimly and, looking to neither right nor left, rode in through the open gate. not until he had unbridled his horse and turned him loose to seek a breakfast as best he knew how, while he investigated the school's interior, did the boys and girls outside give way to their feelings.

then maurice keeler whistled. "whew! ain't he the old human icicle?" he asked.

"you bet!" came the spontaneous answer.

"gosh," cried elgin scraff, "there goes the bell! come on everybody; let's get our medicine."

just as the boys and girls were settling down in their seats and jim scroggie was glancing anxiously doorward billy strode in. he was resplendent in his sunday best and wore a wild thorn blossom in his button hole. he glanced quickly about the room and caught the glint and sunlight for which he hungered—a smile from the lips of lou scroggie. then he seized jack larose by the scruff of the neck, jerked him from the seat near the door and motioned jim scroggie over. "we'll set here," he whispered. "it's close to the outside in case we have to make a quick get-away."

the new teacher paid no attention to the little scrimmage between larose and billy. he stood on the platform, tall, spare, hard-featured and stern, and let his black eyes bore into the souls of the pupils, one after the other. not until the silence of suspense was almost unbearable did he speak; then clearing his throat he gave forth in stern tones the following edict:

"boys and girls, i am your teacher. i shall expect you to obey me implicitly. if you do not, i shall punish you. i am here to teach you; you are here to learn and profit from my teaching. i have heard bad reports of most of you, but for the present i shall refrain from mentioning any names. when in the school-room you will be allowed to address me as 'sir.' outside the school-room you will not address me in any manner whatsoever."

he paused to survey the rows of uplifted faces and let his words sink home. then lifting a long hickory pointer from his desk, and holding it much as a conjuror might hold his wand, he gripped the edge of the desk with one bony hand and leaning forward, said:

"boys and girls, from what has been told me i surmise that my predecessor has spoiled you. i do not censure him; undoubtedly he worked according to his lights. i have been twenty years a teacher. i am your superior in strength, wisdom and intellect; and this i want you always to keep in mind. i shall tolerate neither familiarity nor disobedience. you will do well to obey me without question and do, worthily, the tasks i set for you. i believe in administering punishment to wrong-doers, severe punishment. it is not my purpose to deceive either you or the ratepayers of this school; therefore, i will admit that i like neither this district nor its people. that, however, will not prevent me from fulfilling my duty to the best of my ability."

he ceased speaking and drew himself up slowly, pursing his stern lips. "that is all i have to say for the time being," he said. "we shall endeavor to air this building, after which we will form classes. will the fat boy with the rumpled hair and dirty neck, the one who is whispering to the boy behind him, be good enough to step forward?"

all eyes switched from the teacher to fatty watland. fatty, his face very red, rose slowly and stood before the frowning mr. johnston.

"what is your name, boy?" asked the teacher.

"walter watland."

"walter watland—what?"

"that's all. jest walter watland."

mr. johnston frowned darkly. "walter watland—what?" he repeated.

"sir," prompted a voice from the back seat.

"walter watland, sir," panted fatty, glimpsing the light in the nick of time.

"very well, walter, you may go home and get a pail of water. my experience with school wells," glancing out of the window to the blue pump, "has been that during the holidays they become a veritable death trap for frogs, mice and other vermin."

walter moved quickly to execute the order. mr. johnston addressed the rest of the pupils. "school is now dismissed until we raise the windows and air the room."