th any of his own special pets like Howes."

"How mean!" cried Patricia spiritedly. "Bruce hasn't even seen that
study. What did he say about it?"

"Oh, he couldn't _say_ anything right out," replied Griffin knowingly,
"but he made it hot for us, I tell you. Poor old Bottle Green caught
it first, for painting before he'd given her permission, and then he
jumped on me for not painting. Radford caught it and then he lit on
Slovinski for using the Whistler palette, and she just _blew up_!
These Poles aren't like us tame tabbies, you know, and she's full of
ginger, for all her sleepy ways. She's terribly high-born, you know,
and can't bear anyone to look cross-eyed at her."

"What did she do?" asked Patricia eagerly.

"Slammed him good and hard," returned Griffin succinctly. "Told him he
was fifteen different sorts of a lobster."

"Oh, do talk English, Griffie dear," begged Patricia, laughing. "Miss
Jinny doesn't understand your Choctaw speech."

"Well then, she rebuked him thoroughly for his variable though severe
criticisms, and stated, with some emotion, that the Board should be
enlightened as to his unfitness, through his captious temper, for the
delicate task of nourishing the tender sensibilities of the budding
artist."

"My word, she wasn't shy, was she?" interpolated Patricia, much
diverted.

"Not she," declared Griffin. "We were all in a blue fit. Not that we
old stagers are sorry for the man, but it shocked our sense of what's
due him as a teacher. I was fearfully ashamed of Slovinski, but it
_was_ fun to see how astounded he looked. He just stood looking at her
more quietly than I'd ever seen him look at any one, and then he bowed
and asked her if she'd quite finished. Jiminy, but he was polite! We
all got a chill. Slovinski sat down, and we took to work again.
Benton went on criticizing as if nothing had happened, but we felt
mighty queer. Then Bottle Green stooped over to get her paint-box, and
up she starts, most tragic-like, with her hand, on her shoulder, and
she solemnly announces she's broken her arm."

"Poor thing, she's done it at last!" cried Patricia compassionately.
"Then what happened?"

"She got safely off, and then the model began to look queer, and in a
minute she'd fainted. Howes brought her to with a glass of mineral
water, and the class broke up. But the model didn't go. After Benton
had made a small spicy speech of farewell--he's leaving, can't stand
being sassed