really wicked
to whisper in school, only it makes you forget to study, and sometimes
it makes other children forget to study, and that's where the wrong part
comes in."

"I'm sorry, teacher," said Bully.

"You may go," said the young robin lady with a smile. "How about you,
Bawly?"

"I'm not!" he exclaimed, real cross-like, "and I'll whisper again," for
all the while Bawly had been thinking how mean the teacher was to keep
him in when he wanted to go out and play ball.

The robin lady teacher looked very much surprised at the frog boy, but
she only said, "Very well, Bawly. Then you can't go."

So Bully hurried out, and Bawly and the teacher stayed there.

Bawly kept feeling worse and worse, and he began to wish that he had
said he was sorry. He looked at the teacher, and he saw that she was
gazing out of the window again, toward the woods, where there were
little white flowers, like stars, growing by the cool, green ferns. And
Bawly noticed how tired the teacher looked, and as he watched he was
sure he saw a tear in each of her bright eyes. And finally she turned to
him and said:

"It is so nice out of doors, Bawly, that I can't keep you here any
longer, no matter whether you are sorry or not. But I hope you'll be
sorry to-morrow, and won't whisper again. For it helps me when boys and
girls don't whisper. Run out now, and have a good time. I wish I could
go, but I have some work to do," and then with her wing she patted Bawly
on his little green head, and opened the door for him.

Bawly felt rather queer as he hopped out, and he didn't feel like
playing ball, after all. Instead he hopped off to the woods, and sat
down under a big Jack-in-the-pulpit to think. And he thought of how his
teacher couldn't live in the nice green country as he did, for she had
to stay in a boarding-house in the city, to be near her school, and she
couldn't see the flowers growing in the woods as often as could Bawly,
for she nearly always had to stay in after school to write in the
report-books.

"I--I wish I hadn't whispered," Bawly said to himself. "I--I'm going to
help teacher after this. I'll tell her I'm sorry, and--and I guess I'll
bring her some flowers for her desk."

Every one wondered what made Bawly so quiet that evening at home. He
studied his lessons, and he didn't want to go out and play ball with
Bully.

"I hope he isn't going to be sick," said his mamma, anxious-like.

"Oh! I guess maybe he's got a touch of wate