ght just as well have the upper bureau drawers, you
know, and I don't care anything about the front side of the bed.
Besides, I wish I hadn't let you come home alone this afternoon."

"Well, you _are_ the funniest!" said Joy.

CHAPTER VI

WHO PUT IT IN?

On Monday Joy went to school. Gypsy had been somewhat astonished, a
little hurt, and a little angry, at hearing her say, one day, that she
"didn't think it was a fit place for her to go--a high school where all
the poor people went."

But, fit or not, it was the only school to be had, and Joy must go.
Perhaps, on some accounts, Mrs. Breynton would have preferred sending
the children to a private school; but the only one in town, and the one
which Gypsy had attended until this term, was broken up by the marriage
of the teacher, so she had no choice in the matter. The boys at the high
school were, some of them, rude, but the girls for the most part were
quiet, well-behaved, and lady-like, and the instruction was undoubtedly
vastly superior to that of a smaller school. As Gypsy said, "you had to
put into it and study like everything, or else she gave you a horrid old
black mark, and then you felt nice when it was read aloud at
examination, didn't you?"

"I wouldn't care," said Joy.

"Why, Joyce Miranda Breynton!" said Gypsy. But Joy declared she
wouldn't, and it was very soon evident that she didn't. She had not the
slightest fancy for her studies; neither had Gypsy, for that matter; but
Gypsy had been brought up to believe it was a disgrace to get bad marks.
Joy had not. She hurried through her lessons in the quickest possible
fashion, anyhow, so as to get through, and out to play; and limped
through her recitations as well as she could. Once Gypsy saw--and she
was thoroughly shocked to see--Joy peep into the leaves of her grammar
when Miss Cardrew's eyes were turned the other way.

Altogether, matters did not go on very comfortably. Joy's faults were
for the most part those from which Gypsy was entirely free, and to which
she had a special and inborn aversion. On the other hand, many of
Gypsy's failings were not natural to Joy. Gypsy was always forgetting
things she ought to remember. Joy seldom did. Gypsy was thoughtless,
impulsive, always into mischief, out of it, sorry for it, and in again.
Joy did wrong deliberately, as she did everything else, and did not
become penitent in a hurry. Gypsy's temper was like a flash of
lightning, hot and fierce and m