by letting Him sing with you. I
dont care if you did but I never don
anything to deserve it, but if you dident
I am very sorry, will tell you bout it at
the partey. Well that is all I can think
of today, from

Yourse Ever,

WIN PENNINGTON.

P.S. If you still meen what you sed
about roses red and vilets blue all right
and so do I. W H P.

[Illustration: _He watched the teacher's finger crook a signal for the
note to be brought forward_.]

Piggy waded home through blood that night. The boys could not resist
calling out "Friend Mary" or "Hello, Roses Red," though each boy knew
that his taunt would bring on a fight. Piggy fought boys who were
three classes above him. He whipped groups of boys of assorted sizes
from the lower grades; but the fighting took him away from his
trouble, and in most cases he honored his combatants. He was little
the worse for wear when he chased the last swarm of primary urchins
into his father's cow lot, fastened them in, and went at them one by
one with a shingle. A child living next door to the Penningtons had
brought the news of Piggy's disgrace to the neighborhood, and by
supper-time Mrs. Pennington knew the worst. While the son and heir
of the house was bringing in his wood and doing his chores about the