sums!"—and he buried himself in his seat, with legs extended under the desk and hands thrust into his trousers pockets.
"Come here," called Miss Latham, in a manner more severe than is generally accredited to a pretty young woman of twenty-four, with a melodic voice and a sympathetic heart.
"I'll see yer scorchin' in the fi'ry furnace fust," cried the boy.
"Thomas Foley, do you hear? Obey at once!"
"I'll swing afore I do," came the swift retort.
"Then you must remain after school every day for a week, and I shall see that you do not sneak away as you did last Monday. Your mother thought you were here, when you were on the river skating. You shall not deceive her again, if I can help it. Bring me your skates, and I will keep them until you promise better behavior."
"If yer wants 'em, come an' git 'em,"—and squarely, he placed his elbows on the desk, as if to protect the skates within.
Miss Latham quietly walked toward the refractory pupil, then firmly removing his arms from the desk, raised the lid and took out the skates. The boy made a grab for them, and in the scuffle struck her a stinging blow in the face with his
