"Donev'nknownameyet."

So next day when he came back from school he had to stay in the parlour to study it.

After a while--not so long a while, either--he called to Mother,--

"Mother, I think I could learn it a lot better out doors than in this dark room."

"All right, dear," she said, "if you're sure you won't let anything distract you."

"No, Mother, I promise." And he went out by the big elm and stood under the Oriole's nest. "The boy stood on the burning deck Whence all but he had fled."

That is the way it began and he started:

"The boy stood on the burning deck"--then he had to stop, for Mr.

Stuck-up, the Turkey, was taking his afternoon parade right near him.

Mr. Stuckup didn't seem to like that piece at all. Neither did Jehosophat, for that matter.

"'The boy'"--he began again.

"Gobble, gobble," shrieked the Turkey.

"'Stood on the burning--'"

"Gobble, gobble," again rudely interrupted Mr. Stuckup.

So Jehosophat went around to the side of the house by the Lilac Bush.

He stood up straight and tried it all over again.

"'The boy stood on the burning deck'--_get down, get down_!" he yelled. Now that was strange. It sounded as if he were telling the boy to get down off that deck. But it was only Wienerwurst he was talking to. For, when he made that fine gesture which Teacher had shown them, Wienerwurst, who had crept up behind him, thought his master was playing some game, and jumped up at his outstretched fingers.

So once more Jehosophat picked up his reader, and walked over to the Crying Tree, whose green willow branches trailed in the Pond.

He practised his fine bow for a while, then began. This time he actually got through the first verse all right, and was quite pleased with himself. But no sooner had he stopped than he heard behind him--

A loud

"HISS! HISS!"

Now it isn't pleasant to try to make a good speech, and have some one hiss you when they ought to be clapping their hands. But that is just what The Foolish White Geese were doing to Jehosophat.

Once more he picked up his reader, and marched way up the Brook. He had just begun the lines all over again when Miss Cross Patch the Guinea Hen ran out from behind the barn and screeched horribly--just as he was making that fine gesture, too.

"GAWKE'E!--GAWKE'E!--GAWKE'E!"

Now to be called gawky when he thought the gesture was particularly graceful, was indeed discouraging. And, to add to his discomfort, when he tried it again--for the hundredth time, it seemed--the cows in the pasture stretched their red muzzles over the bars and called:

"BOOOOOOO!"

--just as if they wanted him to stop. And the horses whinnied:

"FUNN-NN-NN-NNY!"

It was no use, so Jehosophat rushed into the house again, stuffed some cotton in his ears, and went up in the attic, where he was sure he wouldn't be disturbed.

Here he succeeded pretty well, and had learned two verses, and the name--which was quite important--when the supper bell rang. So he felt he had earned that nice gla.s.s of creamy milk, and the big slice of gingerbread, especially the thick chocolate icing on top. It was an extra thick piece, too, which Mother gave him, probably as a prize for all his hard work.

Next morning, on the way to school, he was reciting Casabianca for practice. He tried it on the Purple Crackles that flew in the fields by the blackberry bushes; the little Gold Finches that swayed on the gra.s.ses; and the topknotted Kingbirds on the telegraph wires overhead.

And he thought he was getting on pretty well with "The boy stood on the burning deck," when a voice took the second line right out of his mouth:

"Eating peanuts by the peck!!!!!"

Angrily he turned, and there were Fatty Hamm and Reddy Toms, d.i.c.ky Means too, and Lizzie Fizzletree, all making faces at him and mocking him with funny gestures. Surely no teacher ever taught gestures like those.

They began it all over again, reciting together. And this is the piece they made of it--you never would have recognized poor Casabianca at all:

"The boy stood on the burning deck Eating peanuts by the peck.

His father called, he would not go Because he loved his peanuts so!!!"

"Stop," yelled Jehosophat, "that isn't it at all."

"'Tis, too," shouted Fatty and the others together, and they repeated in one breath, as fast as they could:

"'Sfathercalled andewouldn'tgo Causeeloved 'ispeanutsso."

Yes, every time Jehosophat tried to tell them what it _really_ was, they kept shouting in singsong voices, faster and faster:

"Fathercalled 'ewoodengo Causeeloved 'ispeanutsso."

And every once in a while that little imp Lizzie Fizzletree would make outrageous bows, almost down to the ground, in imitation of Jehosophat.

Next day was _the_ day, the _great_ day. And all the boys came dressed in new suits, or suits made over from Father's old trousers, with stiff collars, and ties of red, or blue, or brown; and the girls had pretty white dresses with sashes sticking out like b.u.t.terflies' wings.

Jehosophat thought they did resemble b.u.t.terflies until he looked down at their feet; and then very crossly he decided that those feet spoiled "the _effect_." You see, he was getting to use and to think in big words now.

But while he was looking at the regiment of feet, along came Mr.

Humbleby, the Presidentboardofeducation, and all the County Trustees, and the proud parents from near and from far. You could see a long line of buggies and surries and carryalls lined against the fence.

Then the signal was given, and the Teacher took her pointer and rose, and the scholars smoothed their sashes, or their hair, and rose, too; and one and all sang,--

"My country, 'tis of thee."

Then there were more songs by Theentireschool and pieces by the scholars. Lizzie Fizzletree tried one all about flowers. "The Fringed Gentian," it was called, and it was very pretty. But when Lizzie got through with it, Jehosophat didn't think it was so beautiful. She recited it something like this:

"Dear flo'wr so cal'm and pu're and bri'ght That op'nest in' the qu'i-et nig'ht."

And as she recited it she made gestures in all directions, first to one side, then to the other, just such floppy gestures as Ole Man Scarecrow would have made. That is, sometimes they looked like that, and sometimes her arms looked like the arms of a windmill. And her frizzy pigtails swished around with her arms--just like the sails of a windmill that had suddenly gone mad. The people started to t.i.tter, and Jehosophat started to giggle with them, when suddenly he thought of his own plight, and little shivers ran up and down his back, and his face felt very flushed and warm.

Then there were more songs by "Theentireschool"--and more pieces. My, would they never end! And then there were speeches by the Presidentboardeducation and the Trustees, who seemed to appreciate the privilege more than most of the pupils, Jehosophat thought, for they never stopped when they had the chance.