mmer day. A mouse came out of his hole, and,
looking timidly about, gave a faint, surprised squeak. The flies buzzed in
the sunshine, and had all the time they wished to hum through their tunes.
The only other noise was the wind that murmured about the door and the
window that Aunt Stanshy had closed up so resolutely.

Nobody came to climb the ladder, and it did have such a forsaken look.
Nobody troubled the sheet, or the closet, or the various relics strewn
about.

Alas! alas!

The club was in splinters!

CHAPTER XII.

THE CLUB MENDED.

"Then the club is all broken up?"

"Yes," said Charlie, mournfully.

"How did it happen?"

"You see, Will"--every body called the apothecary's clerk Will--"we had a
school and Sid kept it, and he licked the fellers, and they couldn't stand
it."

"I see."

"But I think Sid wanted to make up."

"And it was easier for him to make up than for the boys who had got the
lickings, was it?"

"I guess it was," said Charlie, laughing.

"Too bad to be broken up!"

"Yes," and Charlie's laugh was turning to a cry.

"You didn't think of the notice stuck up on the post, 'No cross words?'"

"Why, no! I know I forgot all about it."

"I don't believe your teacher, Miss Barry, will be pleased to know of the
quarrel, as she is a kind, good-natured lady, and makes folks kind to one
another."

"I 'spose she wont like it."

"Wouldn't you like to have your broken club mended?"

"Yes, yes," replied Charlie, excitedly. "How?"

"There is one way to do it and fix all things right again." As Will spoke
he also attended to his breakfast, interjecting his words amid sips of
coffee and mouthfuls of Aunt Stanshy's flaky biscuit. He was hungry, as he
had been out before breakfast in answer to a furious alarm of fire.

"You see, when a club is in pieces, that it may be mended again, each
piece must resolve to do what it can toward a coming together again. Will
you?"

"Yes, I will."

"There's one. Who is the next one to bring round, the next piece of club
to make willing to be joined to the rest?"

"I guess Wort feels about as stuffy as any one. There he is out in the
lane now."

"Is he? Go, get him."

The "stuffy" splinter of the club was brought in. Will had disappeared,
but soon came back to the table, bringing from his room a neat, white
package of--Charlie's curious eyes could not guess what.

"Art you Wort Wentworth?" asked Will.

"Yes."

"I have some candy for you