place.

"Micky."

The boy rose reluctantly to his feet.

Bessie looked at him severely. To his youthful mind she appeared very stern indeed; but, if the truth were known, to the ordinary adult eye she presented no fiercer exterior than that ordinarily produced by a slight feeling of irritation upon the aspect of a kitten of tender age. Smiles always lurked in Bessie's big blue eyes, and little waves of mirth were ever ready to ripple out from the corners of her mouth at the slightest provocation, so it can readily be understood that it was no easy task for her to sternly interrogate the freckle-faced youth who, beneath her disapproving gaze, shifted uneasily from one bare foot to the other.

Mistress Dyke ruled by love, and if she did not love by rule, it is merely another instance where exception can be taken to the old saw which so boldly and incorrectly states that a good maxim must of necessity be reversible.

"Why are you late, Micky?" demanded Bessie.

"Sure, mistress, I dunno," was the hopeless response.

"You don't know, Micky? How foolish!"

"Yis 'm," assented Micky. "I was foolish to be late."

Bessie smiled and then tried to deceive the school into the belief that it was only the beginning of a yawn by patting her mouth with a dimpled palm. The school knew better and anxiety grew less.

"But there must be some reason for it," she persisted.

"I know," said a little lad with long yellow curls, which were made doubly brilliant by the red flannel shirt that enveloped him, materially assisted by diminutive trousers, with a patch of goodly proportions upon the bosom. "I saw him goin' fishin' wid Mr. Moore."

"Tattle-tale! Tattle-tale," came in reprimanding chorus from the other pupils. Dicky, quite unabashed by this disapproval, made a gesture of defiance and returned to his place. Unfortunately the copper-tipped brogan of one Willy Donohue, who chanced to be sitting immediately in the rear of the youthful informer, was deftly inserted beneath Dicky as he started to seat himself.

The result of this was that the cherubic Richard arose, with an exclamation of pain and surprise, much more quickly than he sat down.

"Dicky, you may remain after school. I want no tell-tales here," said Bessie.

"Teacher, Willy Donohue put his foot in me seat," expostulated Dicky, on whom the lesson was quite thrown away.

"Willy shall stay after school, also."

"Ah-h-h!" remarked Dicky, mollified at the prospect of his unkind fate being shared by an old-time enemy.

"I wish you wuz big enough to lick," growled Willy, under his breath. "Your own mother would n't know you after the flakin' I 'd give you. I 'd snatch you baldheaded, baby."

Dicky turned his head far enough over his shoulder to prevent Mistress Dyke from observing the protrusion of his tongue, and was so unlucky as to be hit fairly in the eye with a paper pellet, amply moistened, propelled with all the force the vigorous lungs of the prettiest girl in school, aided by a tube of paper torn from the back of her geography, could impart to it.

"Teacher, Milly O'Connor hit me in the eye wid a spit ball," snivelled Dicky, who, being of tender years, did not share in the general masculine scholastic worship of the youthful belle, who was admired and fought over by the larger boys, on whom she bestowed her favors quite impartially.

"Oh dear!" sighed Bessie. "Was there ever such a lot of children? Milly, rise."

Milly stood up without any visible sign of contrition or embarrassment. She was a pretty, dark-curled lassie of ten, dressed neatly and becomingly, which made her doubly prominent in her present surroundings, for most of the children were of such poverty-stricken parentage that the virtue possessed by their wearing apparel consisted almost entirely in sheltering and hiding rather than ornamenting their small persons.

"What shall I do to punish you?" asked Bessie, wearily.

"You might ferule her, teacher," suggested Dicky, good-humoredly coming to the rescue.

"Dicky, mind your own business," said Bessie severely, "or I 'll ferule you. Now I shall punish you both. Milly, kiss Dicky immediately."

"I don't want to kiss a tattle-tale," said Milly, who placed fully the proper valuation on her caresses.

"Exactly," said Bessie. "This is a punishment, not a reward of merit."

"Not for Dicky," corrected Milly. "He will like it, teacher."

But here the little lady was in grievous error, for when she, resignedly obedient, approached the small rascal, he promptly burst into tears and, dropping on the floor, hid his head under the bench. This was more than Bessie had bargained for, and she was about to motion Milly to return to her seat when Patsy, a youth with carroty red locks already mentioned, rose from his place on the front bench, burning with the noble flame of self-sacrifice.

"She can kiss me instead, teacher," he announced heroically, "and you can let Dicky off this time."

Bessie laughed outright in spite of herself, but Milly, regarding Patsy's suggestion as nothing short of positive insult, turned her back on the admiring gaze of the gallant youth.

"I think we will excuse you, Patsy. Dicky is punished sufficiently, and I fancy Milly will behave herself in the future."

Patsy sat down with a gulp of regret, not comforted by Milly's whisper:

"I 'd do anything rather than kiss that red-headed monkey."

Micky, to whom she had imparted this welcome information, nodded approval.

"Wait till I catch him after school," he murmured hostilely. "I 'll dust his jacket for him."

Meanwhile Bessie had rescued Dicky from his grief and apprehension, and, when the curly-headed youth had had his nose blown and resumed his seat, school assumed its wonted quiet until the sight of a tiny mouse nibbling a bit of cracker under an unoccupied bench drew forth a scream of terror from Milly, who considered herself entitled by age to the enjoyment of all the follies peculiar to her sex.

"A mouse!" she shrieked. "Oh, teacher, teacher, save me!"

And she immediately sought a position of safety upon the seat.

Pandemonium broke loose. The other little girls not to be outdone became equally as frightened, and followed Milly in her ascent, an example which was most shamefully emulated by Bessie herself, with her desk as the base of operations.

Patsy plunged headlong in the direction of the small disturber bent on demolishing it with his geography. The other boys were equally prompt in following the chase, with the exception of Micky, who, realizing this was an excellent opportunity for administering a rebuke to his latest rival's amatory ambition, stepped quickly behind his enemy and kicked him in the place handiest at the time with an enthusiasm worthy of a better cause. Patsy, justly aggrieved, abandoned the pursuit, and, rising to his feet, smote Micky in the