WHEN SARAH WENT
TO SCHOOL

(page 18)

IT IS NOT RIGHT FOR ME TO GO

WHEN SARAH WENT
TO SCHOOL

BY ELSIE SINGMASTER

AUTHOR OF "WHEN SARAH SAVED THE DAY"

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS

BOSTON AND NEW YORK
HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY

The Riverside Press Cambridge

COPYRIGHT, 1910, BY ELSIE SINGMASTER

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED INCLUDING THE RIGHT TO REPRODUCE
THIS BOOK OR PARTS THEREOF IN ANY FORM

Published October 1910

PRINTED IN THE U.S.A.

TO THE MEMORY OF OUR
GRANDMOTHER
SARAH MATTERN SINGMASTER

"What did the other children do?
And what were childhood, wanting you?"

CONTENTS

ILLUSTRATIONS

From drawings by Wilson C. Dexter.

WHEN SARAH WENT TO
SCHOOL

CHAPTER I THE DRESS PARADE

Across the angle of the post-and-rail fence at the lower corner of the Wenners' yard, a board had been laid, and behind the board stood a short, slender, bright-eyed young girl, her hands busy with an assortment of small articles spread out before her. There were a few glass beads, a string of buttons, half a dozen small, worn toys, a basket of early apples, and a plate of crullers. When they were arranged to her satisfaction, she took an apple in one hand and a cruller in the other, and, climbing the fence, perched on the upper rail and began to eat.

Before she had taken more than two bites an extraordinary procession appeared round the corner of the house. Ellen Louisa, one of the Wenner twins, dressed in a long gingham dress of her sister-in-law's, leaned affectionately upon the arm of the other twin, Louisa Ellen, who wore with ludicrous effect a coat and hat of their brother William's. Clinging to Louisa Ellen's hand was a small fat boy. They solemnly approached the improvised store.

"Is any one at home in this store?" asked Louisa Ellen in a gruff voice.

The proprietress slid down from the top of the fence. She spoke carefully, but she did not quite succeed in disguising her Pennsylvania-German accent.

"Well, sir, what is it to-day?"

"I want—" It was Ellen Louisa, who spoke in a simpering tone—"I want a penny's worth of what you can get the most of for a penny, missis. I want it for my little boy. Apples will do. He has it sometimes in his stomach, and—"

A loud crash interrupted Ellen Louisa's account of Albert's delicate constitution. He had seized the propitious moment for the purloining of two crullers, and in order to establish his ownership, had taken a large bite out of each. It was the storekeeper's quick grab which brought the counter to the ground, and mingled all the wares in wild confusion on the grass.

Albert looked frightened. When, instead