The scholars from the youngest to the oldest were loud in their praise of the new school, and delighted that Miss Gilman was again their faithful teacher, but in the merry throng there was one who found it difficult to be content, and that was Phoebe Small.  That the schoolroom was warm and cheerful, that there was plenty of room, and ample opportunity for study counted for little since she had set her heart upon going to boarding school, and therefore an ordinary day school seemed a very tame affair.

At recess she confided to Dot Marvin that she didn’t see why ma couldn’t approve of having her daughter at a boarding school since she (Mrs. Small) attended one when she was a girl.

“I’d ’nough sight rather be at home,” drawled Dot, “even with my cousin Jack to tease me.  When he goes a little too far I can hit back by teasing him ’bout the Langham twins.  That always stops him.  But Phoebe,” she continued, “I shouldn’t think you would like to go away to school.  They’d all be strangers and seems to me you’d be lonesome and homesick.”

“That’s what ma said, but I wanted to try it.  I can’t, it seems, so I’ve got to stay here and try to think I like it,” said Phoebe, with an expression upon her face of extreme dissatisfaction.

In another part of the yard an animated conversation of quite a different character was in progress.  Little Hi Babson and Prue Weston were swinging upon the gate.

“Why how naughty,” Prue was saying.  “I shouldn’t a thought you’d dare to.”

“Well, I did,” Hi answered.  “I didn’t want ter come ter school, so ter pay ‘em fer makin’ me, I hid the clock key so they can’t wind the clock.  I dropped it inter the m’lasses jug, ‘n’ I guess to-morrer mornin’ they won’t know what time ter send me ter school.

“I’ve took the basket er clothes-pins and lowered ’em down the well; I’ve took an hid Grandma Babson’s best cap, ’cause she said ’That boy needs a lickin’.’  Want ter know where I put it?  Up in the barnloft on the hay.  I did somethin’ else too.  I put a wad er paper in the dinner horn.  Won’t they be mad when they try to blow it?  I guess they’ll be sorry they made me go ter school.”

“Oh, but that’s naughty!” cried Prue.  “I’d think you’d be most afraid to be so very naughty.  What’ll they do when you get home?”

Hi’s face lost its hilarious expression.

“I ain’t got home yet,” he said.

The boys and girls had returned to their lessons with all the eager enthusiasm which had been a characteristic of the school when Miss Gilman had first taken it, but the young teacher could not but contrast this “first day” with that of the year before.  Then, there had been little order; now, there was perfect concord with every pupil striving to do his best.

Here and there an unruly member of the primary class caused a disturbance, but as a whole, the pupils were both quiet and studious.

When school closed Randy and Prue with a troop of friends walked along the road toward home, talking of the little events of the day and exulting over their fine schoolhouse, the large yard and full classes.