The Major by Pseudonym Ralph Connor
page 10 of 460 (02%)
page 10 of 460 (02%)
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from the world of adventure and romance to that of stern duty and dull
toil. "Say, boys, we'll be late," cried Larry, in sudden panic, seizing his oar. "Come on, Ben, let's go." "I guess it's pretty late now," replied Ben, slowly taking up his oar. "Dat bell, I hear him long tam," said Joe placidly. "Oh, Joe!" cried Larry in distress. "Why didn't you tell us?" Joe shrugged his shoulders. He was his own master and superbly indifferent to the flight of time. With him attendance at school was a thing of more or less incidental obligation. "We'll catch it all right," said Mop with dark foreboding. "He was awful mad last time and said he'd lick any one who came late again and keep him in for noon too." The prospect was sufficiently gloomy. "Aw, let's hurry up anyway," cried Larry, who during his school career had achieved a perfect record for prompt and punctual attendance. In ever deepening dejection the discussion proceeded until at length Mop came forward with a daring suggestion. "Say, boys, let's wait until noon. He won't notice anything. We can easily fool him." |
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