“Speaking of vacation reminds me,” said Bert, interrupting him; “I made a mistake the other day about my history mark. Miss Witherspoon found another mistake afterwards, and that made it lower than I told you. I just thought I’d speak about it. Miss Bessie, as long as I’d told you too high before.”
Bess was about to say that Bert’s honor in telling her this was far better than the mere getting a high mark, when Teddy, the irrepressible, suddenly broke in,—
“I’ve a conundrum for you young lads. What’s Phil’s favorite slang?”
Phil looked up curiously, while the boys ventured various suggestions.
“Give it up?” queried Ted. “Why, how stupid you all are! Cracky, of course!” And there was a shout at Phil’s expense.
The talk ran on, and no further mention of the collection was made. Bess thought nothing more about it, until the next Monday afternoon, when she sat sewing on the piazza, hurrying to finish some bit of work. Suddenly Fred, who was swinging idly in the hammock, announced,—
