e,
and yet not mash the children out of shape, and a whole lot of young
ones would read a piece together. Fine? Finest thing you ever heard. I
remember one time teacher must have calculated a leetle mite too close,
or else one girl more was in the class than she had reckoned on; but on
the day, the two end girls just managed to stand upon the platform and
that was all. They recited together:

"There was a sound of revelry by night
And Belgium's capital...."

I forget the rest of it. Well, anyhow, they were supposed to make
gestures all together. Teacher had rehearsed the gestures, and they all
did it simultaneously, just as if they had been wound up with a spring.
But, as I said, the two end girls had all they could do to keep on the
platform, and it takes elbow room for: "'T is but the car rattling
over the stony street," and one girl--well, she said she stepped off on
purpose, but I didn't believe her then and I don't now. We had our laugh
about it, whichever way it was.

We had our laugh.... Ah, life was all laughter then. That was before
care came to be the shadow at our heel. That was before black Sorrow
met us in the way, and would not let us pass unless we gave to her our
dearest treasure. That was before we learned that what we covet most
is, when we get it, but a poor thing after all, that whatsoever chalice
Fortune presses to our lips, a tear is in the bottom of the cup. In
those happy days gone by if the rain fell, 't was only for a little
while, and presently the sky was bright again, and the birds whistled
merrily among the wet and shining leaves. Now "the clouds return after
the rain."

It can never be with us again as once it was. For us the bell upon the
Old Red School-house calls in vain. We heed it not, we that
hearkened for it years ago. The living tide of youth flows toward the
school-house, and we are not of it. Never again shall we sit at those
old desks, whittled and carved with rude initials, and snap our fingers,
eager to tell the answer. Never again shall we experience the thrill of
pride when teacher praised us openly. Never again shall we sit trembling
while the principal, reads the note, and then scowls at us fiercely
with: "Take off your coat, sir!" Ah, me! Never again, never again.

Well, who wants it to be that way again? We're men and women now. We've
duties and responsibilities. Who wants to be a child again? Not I. Let
me stick just at my present age for about a hundred