|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 8
Palmer struggled to his feet, and Meg could see that he had a bump
over one eye. The sleeve of his jacket was torn and his lip was
bleeding slightly.
"Why, you're not so badly off," Mr. Carter comforted him, taking
his own handkerchief and wiping off the streaks left by tears and
dirt on Palmer's round face. "No bones broken, laddie, and Miss
Wright will fix that lip with a little court-plaster. She knows
first-aid. What in the world were you doing down at this end of
the yard?"
There was a sudden silence. Meg, on the outside of the crowd,
experienced a distinctly uncomfortable feeling.
"Were you coasting, Palmer?" asked Mr. Carter, righting the
automobile as he spoke. Then he saw the fence.
"Who ripped off those pickets?" he demanded sternly.
"I--I did," admitted Bobby in a very small voice.
The clang of the gong sounded and Mr. Carter turned to the
listening children.
"Go back to your classes," he directed them. "You stay, Bobby and
Palmer. I want to speak to you."
Obediently the others filed in, not without many a backward glance
at the group by the fence.
"Now suppose you tell me about it," suggested Mr. Carter mildly.
So Bobby told about the drive of the previous afternoon and of how
his father had landed the car in the bushes; he told about his
scheme to prove that he could steer, and of how Palmer had asked
to try, too.
"But he didn't make the hole wide enough," complained the battered
Palmer. "First try I hit the side. I think it's an awful silly
thing to do, anyway."
"Well, I went through without hitting anything!" said a voice
unexpectedly. "You're always ready to make a fuss when you spoil a
good game, Palmer."
It was Meg. She had found it impossible to desert Bobby in
trouble, and had come back in time to hear Palmer's grievance.
Mr. Carter tried not to smile.
"Aside from hurting Palmer, Bobby," said the principal seriously,
"you've damaged the school property. What do you suppose Mr.
Hornbeck would say if he saw that fence?" Mr. Hornbeck was one of
the school committeemen.
This was something Bobby had not considered.
"I'll mend it," he promised hastily. "Honestly, I never thought
about hurting the fence."
"I know you didn't," Mr. Carter said promptly. "Still, that really
doesn't alter the fact that you've damaged property that doesn't
belong to you. I think to help you remember another time, we'll
say you must mend the fence this morning and make up the time
after school. I'll take Palmer in and patch him up now. Meg, you
should be in your classroom."
"I want to help Bobby," asserted Meg firmly. "I'll stay after
school with him, too. It's just as much my fault--I knew he
shouldn't pull off pickets, only I never told him."
Mr. Carter looked at the little girl oddly.
"All right, only you'll have to make up the time with Miss Mason,"
he said. "I think Bobby is a lucky boy to have such a loyal little
sister."
Meg and Bobby managed to put the pickets back and Mr. Carter found
a piece of new wood with which to patch the old cross piece. They
learned that it is easier to destroy things than to mend them, and
after they had stayed till half past four that night and Mother
Blossom had heard the reason and forbidden them ever to take the
tin automobile to school again, both children decided that a game
with such a sorry ending wasn't worth planning.
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|