Then, as Sandy and he walked into the school-room together, the older boy patted him on the back and remarked: "Yer've got lots 'er sand and ye're all right."
"Do you think you can teach me?" queried the younger.
"'Tain't no teachin' in it 't all, it's jest sand an' gittin' the hang of it, that's all. Why, if I don't have yer doin' cartwheels in a week, yer can call me a liar, an' my name ain't Sandy Coggles."
The little fellow's eyes sparkled with a sudden joy. Was it a dream, he thought, or would he really do a cartwheel in a week?
"O Sandy, you don't mean it!" he exclaimed.
"In course I do," said Sandy with absolute assurance. "Yer see, everythin' is everythin' in this 'ere world. If yer ain't got it yer might as well cave in. In handsprings an' sich, sand is everythin'. In 'rithmetic an' numerals, it's fingers. All yer have to have, is to have it, an' there ye are! Yer'll be doin' cartwheels in a week, hope-I-may-die if yer don't."
The boys went back into the school-room and resumed their seats.
The class in geography was called, and the members stood in the aisles next to the wall. The
