to put a list of words on the board, and I want you to copy them five
times, while I take the little folks out into the yard for their
recess. The rest of you don't deserve any, and will have to wait until
noon."

That was the first piece of injustice to Anne. She had been as quiet
as a mouse all the morning, and Miss Mary should have seen it and not
have punished the innocent with the guilty. But Anne was a cheery
little soul and never thought of questioning Miss Mary's mandates, and
so she went on patiently writing with the rest.

Miss Mary stopped in the door long enough to issue an ultimatum.

"I shall put you on your honor," she said, "not to talk. And any one
who disobeys will be punished."

And she went out.

For a little while there was perfect decorum. Then Tommy grew
restless. Six weeks out of school had made sitting still almost
impossible. He wiggled around in his seat, and began to whistle, "A
Life on an Ocean Wave."

That was a signal for general disorder among the boys. Without
speaking a word, and so preserving the letter of the rule, if not the
spirit, they, with Tommy as leader, went through various pantomimic
performances. They hitched up their trousers in seamanlike fashion,
they pretended to row boats, they spit on their hands and hauled in
imaginary ropes, and as a climax, Tommy danced a hornpipe on his toes.