"You are excused," answered Laddie. "Three-fourths of the day is enough to begin on. Miss Amelia says you may come with me." "Where are you going?" Laddie was stripping off my stockings as he looked into my eyes, and smiled a peculiar little smile. "Oh Laddie!" I cried. "Will you take me? Honest!" He laughed again and then he rubbed my feet. "Poor abused feet," he said. "Sometimes I wish shoes had never been invented." "They feel pretty good when there's ice." "So they do!" said Laddie. He swung me to the ground, and we crossed the road, climbed the fence, and in a minute our redbird swamp shut the schoolhouse and cross old Miss Amelia from sight. Then we turned and started straight toward our Big Woods. I could scarcely keep on the ground. "How are the others getting along?" asked Laddie. "She's cross as two sticks," I told him. "Johnny Hood hasn't shot one paper wad, and Leon hadn't done a thing until he laughed about the birds, and I guess he did that to make her forget me." "Good!" cried Laddie. "I didn't suppose the boy thought that far." "Oh, you never can tell by looking at him, how far Leon is thinking," I said. "That's so, too," said Laddie. "Are your feet comfortable now?" "Yes, but Laddie, isn't my face marked?" "I'm afraid it is a little," said Laddie. "We'll bathe it again at the creek. We must get it fixed so mother won't notice." "What will the Princess think?" "That you fell, perhaps," said Laddie. "Do the tears show?" "Not at all. We washed them all away." "Did I do wrong, Laddie?" "Yes, I think you did." "But it wasn't true, what she said." "That's not the point." We had reached the fence of the Big Woods. He lifted me to the top rail and explained, while I combed his waving hair with my fingers. "She didn't strike you because what you said was not so, for it was. She knew instantly you were right, if she knows anything at all about outdoors. This is what made her angry: it is her first day. She wanted to make a good impression on her pupils, to arouse their interest, and awaken their respect. When you spoke, all of them knew you were right, and she was wrong; that made her ridiculous. Can't you see how it made her look and feel?" "I didn't notice how she looked, but from the way she hit me, you could tell she felt bad enough." "She surely did," said Laddie, kissing my cheek softly. "Poor little woman! What a world of things you have to learn!" "Shouldn't I have told her how mistaken she was?" "If you had gone to her alone, at recess or noon, or to-night, probably she would have thanked you. Then she could have corrected herself at some convenient time and kept her dignity." "Must I ask her pardon?" "What you should do, is to put yourself in Miss Amelia's place and try to understand how she felt. Then if you think you wouldn't have liked any one to do to you what you did to her, you'll know."