IT was nearly school-time, but Jode didn't seem to be at all in a hurry. He sat on the wood-pile with the empty chip-basket beside him, slowly untying his shoes. The old gobbler strutted around the corner of the kitchen, and halted suddenly with one foot drawn up, as he caught sight of the red stockings. "Quit! quit!" he cried, stretching his neck with an angry gobble. Aunt Jane had come to the door to shake the table-cloth. She stood a moment, sniffing the warm spring air, and peering up at the pink peach-tree buds through her spectacles. "Quit! quit!" cried the turkey again, and his angry voice attracted her attention. "Well, Mary Ann," she exclaimed, "I just wish you'd see what that boy's a-doin'! It isn't for me to say, but if he was _mine_, he'd not go around barefoot this kind of weather. Next thing will be croup. You'd better 'tend to him." "Meddlesome old thing!" muttered Jode, disrespectfully, throwing a chip at the gobbler. "Both of you had to go and tell." The table-cloth whisked into the kitchen, followed by the complaining voice, and soon after his mother came to the door and called him. "Have you fed the calves, Joseph?" "Yes'm." "And filled the chip-basket?" "Almost." "Then hurry, my son; it is nearly school-time." "I say, ma," he began, "can't I go barefooted? It's plenty warm, and lots of the boys do." "Why, no, child," she answered. "I told you the other day not to think of such a thing for another month at least. Put on your shoes immediately, and don't let me hear another word about it. It's of no use to tease." Jode knew that, perfectly. In all the ten years of his varied experiences, it never had been of any use. Now, although the feet that slipped back into the red stockings and stout shoes were very loath to go, they went slowly but surely in. "Wish't I was an Indian," he said, as he went through the orchard, balancing his geography on his head and swinging his lunch-basket, while the dog frisked around him. He had a queer way of talking to himself. "I could stay out-doors all the time then, and never have to go to school. Indians have a better time than anybody, 'thout it's dogs. O Penny, ain't you glad you're a dog?" The first bell was just beginning to ring when he went through the gate at the end of the lane, so he had plenty of time to stop when he reached Squire Hooper's barn, and look at the flaming show-bills with which it was covered. Johnny Harris was there ahead of him, and he noticed, with a pang of envy, that his feet were bare, and that his stubby toes were digging up the soft earth, as he stood looking at the pictures. "_I'm_ goin' to the show," announced Jode, proudly. "Our hired man said he'd take me if I'd pay. Pa always pays me every spring for dropping corn, so I'll have more than enough."