one didn't run for a policeman; while the Miller girls listened to the
proceedings with malicious pleasure, and told everybody that it was the
noise that Mrs. Knight's scholars "usually made at recess."

Mrs. Knight coming back from dinner, was much amazed to see a crowd of
people collected in front of her school. As she drew near, the sounds
reached her, and then she became really frightened, for she thought
somebody was being murdered on her premises. Hurrying in, she threw open
the door, and there, to her dismay, was the whole room in a frightful
state of confusion and uproar: chairs flung down, desks upset, ink
streaming on the floor; while in the midst of the ruin the frantic
rivers raced and screamed, and old Father Ocean, with a face as red as
fire, capered like a lunatic on the platform.

"What _does_ this mean?" gasped poor Mrs. Knight, almost unable to speak
for horror.

At the sound of her voice the Rivers stood still, Father Ocean brought
his prances to an abrupt close, and slunk down from the platform. All
of a sudden, each girl seemed to realize what a condition the room was
in, and what a horrible thing she had done. The timid ones cowered
behind their desks, the bold ones tried to look unconscious, and, to
make matters worse, the scholars who had gone home to dinner began to
return, staring at the scene of disaster, and asking, in whispers, what
had been going on?

Mrs. Knight rang the bell. When the school had come to order, she had
the desks and chairs picked up, while she herself brought wet cloths to
sop the ink from the floor. This was done in profound silence; and the
expression of Mrs. Knight's face was so direful and solemn, that a fresh