Puslapio vaizdai
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bed, and the light was out, for the way off from him. He did not think first time, the boy spoke.

"I got my 'pinion o' you," he said. "Goin' home with a girl! Before I'd be a girl-boy!" The scorn in his voice was only the measure of his hurt, if Tip had known.

Tip resisted the impulse to anger, let him finish, and waited for him to go on. Then he said:

it; he felt it. It was as if the foundations of his being were sinking under him. The pain of his despair was so great that he stirred vigorously.

"All right," he said angrily; "if that 's the kind o' felluh you are, all right for you!"

Tip was patient.

"Aw, come off!" he said. "You'll

""T ain't the first time I done it. be seein' 'em home yourself one o' You don't need to worry."

"It's the first time I ever saw you," said the boy.

"Huh! that ain't no sign," said Tip. "You don't see everything I happen to do, do you?"

The boy was not prepared for this. He felt suddenly as if Tip were a long

these days, first thing you know."

"Well, I won't!" declared the boy, fiercely, and turned over with a bounce that racked the old bedstead.

Tip did not answer, but soon turned on his side, away from the boy, and fell asleep. The boy lay on his back, looking up into the dark of the old

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"The new girl kept right on as if she cared for nobody or nothing"

north room. He felt terribly about the heart, and his throat ached; but sleep soon stole sweetly upon him,

too.

The new girl's reading was as wonderful on the second day as on the first, and almost as surprising. The first time, they were hardly sure it had not been accident. This time they lost their embarrassment in the wonder of it, and looked at her as she read.

It grew warmer, snowed in the night, and cleared again. The next morning, as the girl read, the boy saw her braid in a streak of bright light. The blue ribbon, almost black in the shadow, was bright azure in the sun, and the woven strands above and the soft curls below were pale, shining gold. This was the first time he had really looked at her, and even then he took no notice of her face. She was still only a light-complexioned, freckled girl with a fluffy apron and a clear voice, not afraid to read out.

At recess they had a game of foxand-geese in the fresh snow of the big field on the opposite side of the road. Running in with Tip and the rest when the bell rang, and stopping for two or three stolen seconds at the stove, he found himself again standing beside the girl. As he raised his foot to get a little warmth before teacher came in with the bell, the pressure of Tip and some of the other boys threw him over against her. He felt the soft clothes again, and his hands rested for a moment on her back and shoulders. The braid was under his fingers. He liked the warmth of the dress and the softness of the hair, and noticed in the brief instant that the hair was not only soft and glossy, but as fine as silk. He had a shadowy

impulse to run those curls at the end through his fingers. She staggered and began to laugh. He turned on Tip with a scowl.

"Aw, look out what you 're doin'!" he scolded. he scolded. "You want to knock a felluh down?" Then he turned to the girl, not quite sure how she took it. "I could n't help it," he said. "He shoved me."

"Oh, that's all right," she said lightly. To relieve him still further, she smiled and added, "It 's dangerous to be safe around here."

Both laughed. He liked the way she looked. Teacher came by with the bell and went up the aisle to the desk. They took their seats.

It grew milder still. Fox-and-geese occupied the morning recesses and the noons for the next few days, with the sliding-place and tumbling in the drifts by the fence to fill the intervals. On Friday it was so warm by afternoon recess that the snow packed, and a big white fort began to take form.

Saturday was crisper. In the afternoon the church hill swarmed with big and little boys and girls. The new girl was there. Once in a while, as the boy came trudging up with his sled and met her careering down, he waved his hand, or even called out, "Hello!" Her cheeks were aglow with frosty warmth, her eyes sparkled, and her teeth gleamed. The thought crossed his mind for the first time that she was pretty. He was not given to reflection, or he would have realized that it was the first time he had ever thought any girl pretty.

At the top of the hill Tip and Lucy were getting ready to go down on Tip's long sled. Georgie and Mamie were paired off, too. They stood a moment looking at the black current

of sleds and riders sweeping down and dividing the slower current of black figures coming up. The new girl, far down in the valley, had just got up and was striding back toward them. She was the only big girl sliding by herself.

only for a second or two. Tip and Lucy and Georgie and Mamie came darting along, laughing and screaming and waving at him.

"She's waiting for you," cried Lucy as they passed.

"Softies!" said the boy. "Girl

Tip gave the boy a poke with his boys!" elbow.

"Look at her, all alone!" he said banteringly. "Go on; be a man, and take 'er down with you." The boy sniffed.

"Aw, give us a rest!" he said. "Yes," put in Lucy, "I think you're real mean to go and slide by yourself all the time. Go ahead, and be nice to her. She'd like it, I bet you. Would n't she, Tip?" she added mischievously.

"Course she would," Tip answered. He looked at the boy, who felt his face growing warm. "And so would he, too."

The girl was still there when he came up. The hill below them was alive with darting and trudging figures. He kept thinking of what Lucy had called out. He felt a bit embarrassed. Had she really waited for him?

The girl gave her sled a swing.

"Well, here goes for my last," she said. "I must get home in time to help get supper."

"Mine, too," said the boy. "I got to do chores."

At the foot of the hill he passed her, and then stood waiting for her to come up. They went across the valley

"In a pig's eye he would!" said the together. Once, when he looked back, boy, scornfully.

"Aw, you need n't make believe!" cried Tip, with a look at Lucy. "You know you 're dyin' to go down with 'er, only you don't dast ask 'er." The boy turned in disgust.

he saw Tip and the others standing at the top of the hill. They saw him look, and all waved their hands. Tip let out one of his famous "Yahoo's," as crystal-clear as the frosty air. The boy knew they were laugh

"Aw, you make me tired!" he said, ing at him, and turned quickly, for and swung his sled around.

He arranged the rope, grasped the sled, took a long run, and came down with a slam on the hard, shining surface of the hill, and shot away like an arrow. "He-e-ey!" he yelled as he met the girl. She waved to him as he passed.

He came slowly to a stop rods ahead of the other boys, got up, and started back, thinking. Would she really like to go down with him? He looked up to where she was nearing the top, and quickened his pace. But it was

fear the girl would notice.

"Goin' to-night?" he asked as they were parting.

"I can't," she answered. "I 've got to help my mother."

He felt less content as he went in and put on his overalls. The same sense of something lacking went with him to the hill after supper, to be forgotten as he shot down the steep, icy road, and to revive as he toiled back alone to the top.

"Ah-ha! so you saw her home, eh?" said Tip as they turned their sleds.

"They all gathered around the red-hot stove"

another," said Georgie, with enthusiasm. "We 'll have a 'Merican and a British fort, and choose sides."

"Le''s all be there early to-morrow morning," said Tip as they parted.

It was warmer than ever the next day. The snow packed almost with the rising of the sun. Half an hour before school called, the rolling of monster balls and the rearing of ponderous giants filled the schoolground with noisy movement. The enormous globes gathered immensity as they were rolled along, their progress marked by great paths of dark ground, their surfaces speckled with dangling dead leaves that soon began to dry and flutter in the soft southwest wind.

"I guess it's the January thaw for sure," teacher said to the big girls as, bell in hand, he stood contemplating the enthusiastic scene.

The steps were full, and the new girl was standing inside, at the entry window. Not far from the window

Lucy began to laugh. She had a they were at work on one of the snow hitching sort of laugh.

"You made a real nice-looking couple," she said.

"Giggle, why don't you?" said the boy, with a show of anger, but secretly pleased.

"Oh, no," Tip teased, "you don't like girls! Oh, no!"

"Aw, come off! You make me sick," said the boy. But he was not disgusted, and he so far reflected as to be a little bit surprised that he was not disgusted.

Sunday was bright and warmer. By noon the eaves were dripping and the frosty window-panes were almost clear. At Sunday-school, in the afternoon, the boys talked of snow forts and snow men.

"We 'll finish that one and put up

forts. The boy looked up, exchanged smiles with the girl, and went at his task more vigorously than ever. Soon, tying his red bandana to a stick, he mounted the wall of the fort, and waved defiance at the enemy at work on the opposing fortification.

"Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more,

Or close the wall up with our English dead!''

he quoted from the fifth reader, with a spirit never possible in the front seat at class-time.

Tip, at work below him, dropped his shovel.

"Aw, come off your perch!" he said, throwing a great pack of snow, which burst on the boy and toppled him over

the wall. "This ain't no British fort. What you tryin' to do, anyhow? Show off?"

The boy was crestfallen. He knew the girl was laughing at his downfall, and he was aware that he had been showing off. He reddened, and his face took on a sullen look. It was several days before he allowed himself to speak to the girl again, and then he took care that Tip and Lucy should not see him do it.

But he could not help thinking of her, and in secret he looked at her. Once, looking up suddenly, she caught his eye. She smiled faintly. He turned his face, filled with confusion. He began to look oftener and to wait for her to look up. He knew now that her eyes were a light, clear blue, that the color had a way of sweeping over her face under the freckles, as if her

skin were very thin, and that her lips looked soft and warm. When she was out of his sight, he remembered exactly how her voice sounded and how she looked when she smiled.

One day, when they had just exchanged smiles and he was turning back, he saw that Lucy's eyes were upon him. They twinkled, and he knew that she had noticed. He went vigorously to work at his geography, and felt his ears getting red. When he saw her laughing with Tip after school, he was filled with fear that she was telling him.

Lucy seemed to know his thoughts. "I know something I won't tell," she sang at him as she started for home.

"What'd she say?" asked Tip.

"Oh, I don' know," the boy answered, evading him.

As he and Tip parted at the latter's

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