deserted school-room, just after the other youngsters had gone to
dinner or to play, Piggy, with much wiggling of his toes, with much
hard breathing, and with many facial contortions, wrote a note. He
gave it to the Pratt girl to deliver. When the first bell was ringing
that noon, Piggy was piling up the primary urchins in wiggling,
squealing piles at "crack the whip." During the fifteen minutes
that followed, he was charging up and down the yard, howling like a
Comanche, at "pull-away." But run as he would, yell as he would, and
wrestle as he would, Piggy could not escape the picture that rose in
his mind of a boy wearing his features and using his body, writing the
note that he had written. When dismembered words and phrases from that
note came to his mind on the play-ground, the quaver of terror that
rose in Piggy's whoop was not dissembled. Sometimes fear froze his
vitals, then a flush of self-abasement burned him with its flames. And
all the time he knew that the Pratt girl had that note. He almost
hoped that an earthquake would swallow her with it before she could
deliver it. When Piggy came straggling in, hot, sweaty, and puffing,
just as the teacher was tapping the tardy-bell, a wave of peace swept
over him. His Heart's Desire was not at her desk. He knew that he
had still a few moments' reprieve.

[Illustration: _He could only snap chalk in a preoccupied way and
listen to his Heart's Desire_.]

[Illustration: _Piggy was piling up the primary urchins in wiggling,
squealing piles_.]

They were singing when his Heart's Desire came in. Piggy's head was
tilted back to give his voice full volume as he shouted, "All his
jewels, precious jewels, His loved and His own." His eyes were