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Page 41
"Now, Matilda, you try it."
But Matilda shook her head and fidgeted with her apron string.
"Try it, and we will help you," persisted the teacher.
Thus urged, Matilda cleared her throat, folded her arms and began: "If
nine persons use a barrel of flour in nine weeks, in one week they
would use nine times nine, which is eighty-one."
"What! eighty-one barrels? But, Matilda, it makes no difference about
the number of persons. It may be one hundred or it may be twenty.
Suppose it were a bushel of potatoes they consumed in nine weeks. How
many would they use in one week?"
The girl again shook her head and resumed her upward gaze.
"Would they not use one-ninth of a bushel? Or, we'll take a peach for
instance."
Matilda's face brightened perceptibly and almost lost its look of
dejection. The teacher noted the change and smiled encouragingly as
she said:
"We'll suppose a peach will last you nine days. What part of it will
you eat in one day?"
The expectant look faded out of the poor girl's face. One peach to
last nine days! No wonder the question seemed impossible of solution.
"Well, then," said Miss Harper quite in despair and almost perspiring
in her effort to make it plain to the child, "we'll let the peach go.
Suppose instead, it were a watermelon. If you ate a carload of
watermelons in nine days, what part of a carload would you eat in one
day?"
At the mention of her favorite fruit, Matilda's eyes glistened, her
features relaxed into a broader smile, and almost before the teacher
had finished she had her answer ready and gave a correct analysis.
Watermelons had won.
At last the little clock that ticked away the hours on the teacher's
table pointed to the time for the noon intermission, and with a whoop
and halloo almost deafening, the pupils rushed out with dinner pails
and baskets to eat their luncheon in the shady woods.
Miss Harper led Alice away to her boarding-place across the fields.
Scarcely taking time to taste the different kinds of jams, jellies,
grape-butter, and other sauces set out by the hostess in special honor
of the young visitor, Alice hastily dispatched her dinner and was soon
back at the playground, where she found a bevy of girls seated on a big
grapevine which one of the larger girls was swinging backward and
forward amid shouts of glee. Nearby two gingham sunbonnets bobbed up
and down as their owners bent their heads to watch a speckled lady-bug
crawl up a twig.
"Lady-bug, lady-bug, fly away home,
Your house is on fire, your children will roam,"
repeated Esther in a low monotone.
"See, it's going now. I wonder whether it really understands us?"
"Of course it does," replied her companion positively.
"Daddy-long-legs are real smart too. I caught one last night and I
said over three times, 'Tell me which way our cow goes or I will kill
you,' and it pointed in the direction of our pasture lot every time."
"You wouldn't really have killed the poor thing, though," exclaimed
Alice, who had drawn near to look at the crimson lady-bug. "A
daddy-long-legs is such a harmless creature. It has a right to live as
well as we have."
"Oh, Caleb, did you catch it?" interrupted Matilda. "Bring it here!"
and she beckoned to a small boy who was busy near a large beech tree
some distance away. "He's been after a tree-frog," she explained.
"There's one up in that tree that sings the cutest every evening and
morning. I hear him when I am gathering bluebells."
"It's pretty near dead," said the boy bringing his trophy. "I guess I
squeezed it too hard. We might as well kill it."
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