the time till the
class bell should ring. Phoebe Dawson sat just opposite me in the half
circle. I can see her now. The part in her hair was as uneven as
possible--what we used to call a 'rail-fence' parting, and her braids
straggled unevenly down behind her ears. She had forgotten the brooch
that should have fastened her collar. The facing of her dress was ripped
and was hanging down, and her pantalets were actually dirty."

"Pantalets, grandma?"

"Yes, we all wore pantalets, beautifully starched and ironed, that came
nearly to the tops of our village-ties, as we called them. We had very
fancy ones for Sundays, and plainer ones for every day, but we were very
particular about them. Phoebe sat with her feet crossed and actually
sticking out in front of her--which was considered very bad manners--and
her stockings were very grimy.

"I forgot about the rule of no whispering, and I said, suddenly, to
Dolly Chipman, who sat on the other side of me, 'Pearl-gray stockings
are the latest thing from Paris. You can always depend on Phoebe
Dawson to set the style--pig-sty-le.'

"Instantly Miss Abbie's cold, gray eyes were on me.

"'Did you speak, Miss Winthrop?' for we were all called, very formally,
by our last names.

"'Yes'm,' I answered, very meekly.

"'Very well, then, we will hear the remark you made, and judge if it was
necessary enough to excuse you for breaking the rule.'

"I fairly gasped, for nothing would have made me repeat the remark, and
hurt Phoebe's feelings. In spite of her untidiness, we all liked her,
for she was always good company. Besides, we really respected her, for
she was one of the best scholars in the class.

"'Please excuse me, Miss Abbie,' I said, getting furiously red. 'It was
a silly little remark I made, and I had no business to make it.'

"'We will be the best judge of that, Miss Winthrop,' she said, in her
severest tones. Just then the class bell rang outside the room. This
happened to be the last class of the morning. Some of the girls got up
to go, but Miss Abbie motioned them down.

"'If you choose to keep the whole class waiting,' she said to me, 'it
will not be pleasant, but we can wait. I hope you enjoy feeling we are
all waiting for you.'"

"How perfectly horrid of her!" cried Cricket.

"I really think it was, myself. Well, the girls groaned softly, and
frowned at me, and motioned 'tell,' with their lips, but nothing would
have induced me to have repeated my silly little