After a lively coasting on our new sleds one afternoon, we were gathered in the school-room, and every one was busy preparing lessons. The arithmetic class was before the blackboard, answering questions put by the teacher. "Ulysses Grant," said Gray-beard, "suppose the boards, nails, and work upon your sled cost you fifty-five cents, and you sold it to Edwin Stanton for sixty-three cents, what would be your profit?" Ulysses moved uneasily, then began counting rapidly with his fingers. "Stop counting your fingers. Do the sum with your head," said Gray-beard. Just at this moment something like a shadow appeared at one of the windows, and all faces, except Gray-beard's, turned in that direction. We soon made out that the shadow was the face of an Indian boy with his buffalo robe drawn over his head and spread against the glass to exclude the glare of the sun, so as to give him a better view within the room. His black eyes peered at us, and at every object within sight. The figure withdrew; then we heard a voice speaking in our own language, "Come quick! Come and look at them!" Soon the windows were darkened by dozens of the queerest-looking heads we had ever seen. Over each face hung two long braids. As the boys pressed their noses against the glass, and wrinkled their brows in trying to see, they made the strangest and most comical of pictures. They pushed and climbed over each other in their eagerness to observe what was going on inside. We could not help laughing at their appearance. Edwin nudged me and whispered, "They're Ponka boys; they wear their scalp-locks in front, and they always have two." "Don't they look funny?" shouted a Ponka boy at the middle window. "See, see that one!" and he pointed at Warren; "he looks just like a little owl; his hair stands straight up, and he has such big eyes." Study became impossible, and the class in arithmetic made horrible blunders. Gray-beard was disgusted; in vain he rapped the desk with his ruler; and his patience found a limit when Andrew Johnson said that Ulysses' profit would be eleven cents, if he sold his sled for sixty-three cents. He gave the boy a vigorous shaking. This act of discipline delighted the little savages at the window; they shouted with laughter and the ends of their little braids fluttered with the breath of every peal. They interspersed their merriment with comments on our appearance, our clothing, and the absence of scalp-locks on our heads. "What are they saying?" asked Gray-beard, looking toward the windows. "They're calling us names," answered Warren, who felt sore at being compared to an owl. Gray-beard went to the door; as he opened it, the intruders ran swiftly to the fence, and sat astride of the top board. "Get away from here!" said Gray-beard, in a loud voice. "Go home!" "How do do! Goo-by!" shouted back some of the little rascals with boisterous jeers.