entry to the school room.

But it was not a success. The pupils had evidently "sized him up"
pretty accurately, on his previous entry, and his second appearance was
a more signal failure than the first.

He did little with his books during the day. He had not come to school
to learn. That was the last thing he thought of doing. He was there
to make a fuss if possible,--a row, trouble, a sensation; these were
what he was after. He went mechanically to his classes, but paid no
attention to what was said or done in them. He hoped, though, that Mr.
Bright would put a question to him about some of the lessons. He was
aching for a chance to snub Mr. Bright, or defy him, by telling him
that he didn't know. But he got no questions from his teacher that
day, nor for some days after. There are many ways, so many ways, of
tiring out a fish, before landing him!

So the day wore on, the first whole day in school for "Dodd" Weaver,
for several years. At recesses he unbent a little, but he was only
accosted by some of the youngest pupils of the room, and he felt uneasy
and out of place among the larger and more advanced members of the
school.

It was nearing four o'clock, and the closing work of the day was
pressing. Mr. Bright was more than busy with his class, and the room
was quiet, the pupils devoting themselves to their work assiduously.
"Dodd" sat listless for some time, but he finally straightened himself
up quietly, his face lighted with interest, and it would have been
evident to any one watching him (no one was watching him just at this
time) that he was about to do something. He was.