rs--"popples" the hired man called them. There
was good fishing in the river, too. Once a twenty pound muskellunge had
been caught, and bass were plentiful.

But better still than that was his uncle's well-stocked trout stream.
Again he stumbled over the root-obstructed footpath which ran along the
east bank, stopping now and then to untangle his hook and line as he
forced his way past thick, second-growth underbrush, or to let his hook
float with the current past some particularly promising bit of
watercress. There was the fallen, half-rotted log under which the swift
current had dug a deep hole in the sandbed for the big fellows to haunt
and pounce out upon bits of food which floated by. How his heart had
gone pitapat when he had discovered it and had quietly, oh, so quietly,
dropped his baited hook into the clear, spring water. Then had come a
swift-darting something up stream, a jerk at his line to set his pulses
throbbing, a wild scurry for freedom and--

"John!" Miss Brown's voice brought him rudely back to present day
surroundings. He rose uncertainly, dimly conscious that his name had
been called.

"Yes, 'm," he stammered.

"What was I telling the class just now?"

He strove to collect his scattered faculties. Then his glance, roaming
the room, caught at the newly written problems on the blackboard. He
ventured an uncertain smile.

"You--w-was telling--" he began.

"'Were,' John."

"Yes, 'm," nervously. "Were telling the class to be sure and write
plain, and not to use pen and ink if we couldn't get along without blots
and--and--" What else did Miss Brown usually say to the class on such an
occasion?

Over in the far corner of the room, Sid DuPree snickered maliciously.
The boy two seats ahead of him turned with an exultant grin on his
freckled face. Several little girls seemed on the verge of foolish,
discipline-dispelling giggles, and he felt that something had gone
wrong. Teacher, herself, ended the suspense.

"Very good, John. Your inventive faculties do you credit. But it happens
that as yet, I haven't said anything."

The class broke into uproarious laughter while he stood in the aisle, to
all appearances, a submissive, conscience-stricken little mortal.
Inwardly he seethed with anger. What right had Miss Brown to trick a
fellow that way? It was mean, it was cowardly, worse than stealing.

"Now, John," she continued, looking sternly down from the raised
platform, "I spoke just six times to