“They try to,” Arthur answered, “but they never do so well as Dicky.” “You ought to see their nose-pinchers,” Rosie laughed. “They can’t stand up straight. And their boxes and steamships are the wobbliest things.” “I’m going to get all kinds of stuff for things we make for the fair,” Maida said reflectively. “Gold and silver paper and colored stars and pretty fancy pictures for trimmings. You see if you’re going to charge real money you must make them more beautiful than those for which you only charged nails.” “That’s right,” Dicky said. “By George, that will be great! You go ahead and buy whatever you think is right, Maida, and I’ll pay you for it from what we take in at the fair.” “That’s settled. What do you whittle, Arthur?” “Oh, all kinds of things—things I made up myself and things I learned how to do in sloyd in school. I make bread-boards and rolling pins and shinny sticks and cats and little baskets out of cherry-stones.” “Jiminy crickets, he’s forgetting the boats,” Dicky burst in enthusiastically. “He makes the dandiest boats you ever saw in your life.” Maida looked at Arthur in awe. “I never heard anything like it! Can you make anything for girls?” “Made me a set of the darlingest dolls’ furniture you ever saw in your life,” Rosie put in from the floor. “Say, did you get into any trouble last night?” Arthur turned suddenly to Rosie. “I forgot to ask you.” “Arthur and Rosie hooked jack yesterday, in all that rain,” Dicky explained to Maida. “They knew a place where they could get a whole lot of old iron and they were afraid if they waited, it would be gone.” “I should say I did,” Rosie answered Arthur’s question. “Somebody went and tattled to my mother. Of course, I was wet through to the skin and that gave the whole thing away, anyway. I got the worst scolding and mother sent me to bed without my supper. But I climbed out the window and went over to see Maida. I don’t mind! I hate school and as long as I live I shall never go except when I want to—never, never, never! I guess I’m not going to be shut up studying when I’d rather be out in the open air. Wouldn’t you hook jack if you wanted to, Maida?” Maida did not reply for an instant. She hated to have Rosie ask this question, point-blank for she did not want to answer it. If she said exactly what she thought there might be trouble. And it seemed to her that she would do almost anything rather than lose Rosie’s friendship. But Maida had been taught to believe that the truth is the most precious thing in the world. And so she told the truth after a while but it was with a great effort. “No, I wouldn’t,” she said. “Oh, that’s all right for _you_ to say,” Rosie said firing up. “You don’t have to go to school. You live the easiest life that anybody can—just sitting in a chair and tending shop all day. What do you know about it, anyway?”