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Mrs. Wopp drew the green curtains together and turned to the smallest girl in the class. “Aren’t you going to say ‘Good-morning’ to me, Billy?” She put out the slenderest little white hand, and looked into his face appealingly. Once Billy’s attention was fixed he was as earnest at work as at play. He slaughtered the weeds rapidly, and had several clean beds behind him when his mother called him to breakfast..

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School having been closed a week for repairs Miss Gordon had brought Betty to the shining city of her childish dreams. Down the road came a democrat. In the front seat sat Mr. and Mrs. Wopp resplendent in Sunday attire and both wearing bouquets of bright nasturtiums. Behind them sat Moses and Betty also dressed in their best. Moses was cogitating, “Its a blessin’ Betty’s eyebrows hev growed out. She cut an orful figger without them.” Keeping pace with the democrat; but roving here and there in search of gophers ran Jethro enjoying himself mightily. “He’s been pushin’ up the daisies fer thirty years, I ain’t goin’ to warble to please no tombstun.” Moses swung a ponderous foot to give emphasis to his decision. Billy read the note several times. He knew that Jimmy meant much more than the words said; it was his offer of the “olive branch.” And Billy, thinking over that miserable afternoon, wondered again how it had been possible for him to feel such murderous hate for anything living. And for Jimmy! His mate at school, in play! The picture came to him of Jackson crying, of Vilette,—yes, it was not strange he had been angry. But it was not his duty to punish; even if it had been, he knew he had forgotten Jackson and Vilette, forgotten everything except the rage of the fight. Why was it? Older heads than Billy’s have asked in sorrow that same question after the madness of some angry deed has passed to leave in its wake sleepless remorse..