ng like that many a
time, the only difference being she would say, "Why yes, Mrs.
So-and-So, we have it. I'll send _Bill_ over with it right away--oh,
that's all right--no, he won't mind, I'm sure," which I hardly ever
did anymore on account of my pop wouldn't let me. I was always running
an errand for some neighbor who didn't have any boys in the family,
which is what boys are for.

I was wondering where Poetry had to go, with what, and why, when
Poetry's mom called up the stairs to him and said, "Leslie, will you
bring down _The Hoosier Schoolmaster_, and you and Bill take it over
to Mrs. Mansfield."

I heard Poetry gasp and call back down, "Get WHAT?"

"_The Hoosier Schoolmaster!_" his mom called up. "It's on the second
shelf in your library--it's a red book with gold lettering on it;"
then Mrs. Thompson said to me, "Having a new gentleman teacher in the
community has made everybody interested in that very interesting book,
so Mrs. Mansfield is going to review it for the Literary Society next
Wednesday night."

Then Poetry's mom called up to him and asked, "Find it, Leslie?" which
of course he hadn't and couldn't, anyway, not upstairs, 'cause right
that minute it was lying open on two sticks stuck into Mr. Black's
stomach at the bottom of Bumblebee hill. For some reason it didn't
seem as if we wanted to tell Mrs. Thompson where it was, but it looked
like we were in for it.

We couldn't come right out and tell her where the book was, 'cause she
was like most of the other parents in Sugar Creek territory--she
thought Mr. Black, who rode a fine horse and wore a brown leather
jacket and riding boots and who could smile politely and tip his hat
whenever he saw a Sugar Creek Gang mother, was a very fine gentleman,
and certainly didn't know what a hard time the gang had been having
with him.

Just that second Poetry called down and said, "Bill and I'll take it
to her."

The gang didn't know Mrs. Mansfield very well, on account of she was a
new person in the Sugar Creek territory and didn't have any boys, and
was more interested in society than any of the gang's moms and was
always reading important books on account of it maybe made her seem
more important if she knew the names of all the important books and
who wrote them.

Poetry came downstairs with his camera, coming down in a big hurry and
saying to me in a business-like voice, "Let's get going, Bill," and
made a dive for the door so his mom wouldn't see he