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+      The Project Gutenberg eBook of Shenanigans at Sugar Creek, by Paul Hutchens
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+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Shenanigans at Sugar Creek, by Paul Hutchens
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Shenanigans at Sugar Creek
+
+Author: Paul Hutchens
+
+Release Date: December 6, 2008 [EBook #27426]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SHENANIGANS AT SUGAR CREEK ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Bryan Ness, C. St. Charleskindt, Scanned by
+Bryan Ness and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team
+at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+
+<h1><i>Shenanigans at Sugar Creek</i></h1>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<img src="images/shenanigans_cover.jpg" width="300" height="442" alt="Cover" title="Cover" />
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p class="center">
+<span class="smcap">Shenanigans at Sugar Creek</span><br />
+by <span class="smcap">Paul Hutchens</span></p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p class="center">
+<i>Copyright 1947, by Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Company</i></p>
+
+<p class="center">
+<i>Set up and printed, April, 1947</i><br /><br /><br /><br />
+PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h1>
+<i>Shenanigans at Sugar<br />
+Creek</i>
+</h1>
+
+<p class="center">
+<i>By</i><br />
+PAUL HUTCHENS<br />
+<br />
+<br />
+<br />
+WM. B. EERDMANS PUBLISHING COMPANY<br />
+</p>
+
+<div class="center">
+<table summary="Publication Details">
+<tr><td>GRAND RAPIDS</td><td class="pad">1947</td><td>MICHIGAN</td></tr>
+</table>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<!-- Page 5 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span>
+<h2><a name="Chapter_1" id="Chapter_1"></a>1</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>One tough guy in the Sugar Creek territory was enough to keep us
+all on the lookout all the time for different kinds of trouble.
+We'd certainly had plenty with Big Bob Till, who, as you maybe
+know, was the big brother of Little Tom Till, our newest gang
+member.</p>
+
+<p>But when a new quick-tempered boy whose name was Shorty Long,
+moved into the neighborhood and started coming to our school, and
+when Shorty and Bob began to chum around together, we never knew
+whether we'd get through even one day without something happening
+to start a fight, or get one of the gang into trouble with our
+teacher. On top of that, we had a <i>new</i> teacher, a <i>man</i> teacher
+at that, who didn't exactly know that most of us tried to behave
+ourselves most of the time.</p>
+
+<p>Poetry, who is the barrel-shaped member of our gang, had made up
+a poem about our new teacher, whom not a one of us liked very
+well, on account of not wanting a <i>new</i> teacher when we'd liked
+our pretty lady other teacher so <i>extra</i> well. This is the way
+the poem went:</p>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<span class="i2">"<i>The Sugar Creek Gang had the worst of teachers</i></span><br />
+<span class="i3"><i>And 'Black' his named was called,</i></span><br />
+<span class="i2"><i>His round, red face had the homeliest of features,</i></span><br />
+<span class="i3"><i>He was fat and forty and bald.</i>"</span><br />
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Poetry was always writing a new poem or always quoting one
+somebody else wrote.</p>
+
+<p>Maybe it was a library book that was to blame for <i>some</i> of the
+trouble we had in this story, though. I'm not quite sure, but the
+very minute my pal, Poetry, and I saw the picture in a book
+called <i>The Hoosier Schoolmaster</i>, we both had a very mischievous
+idea<!-- Page 6 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> come into our minds, which we couldn't get out no matter
+how we tried....</p>
+
+<p>This is the way it happened.... Poetry and I were in his house,
+in fact, I was staying at his house all night one night, and just
+before we went to sleep, we sat up in his big bed for awhile,
+looking at the picture which was a full-paged glossy picture of a
+man school teacher away up on the roof of a country schoolhouse,
+and he was holding a wide board across the top of the chimney.
+The schoolhouse's only door was open and a gang of tough-looking
+boys was tumbling out, along with a lot of smoke.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you ever read the story?" I said to Poetry, and he said,
+"No, have you?" and when I said "No," we both read a part of it.
+The story was about a man teacher whose very bad boys in the
+school had locked him out of the building, and he had climbed up
+on the roof of the school and put a board across the chimney, and
+smoked them out just like a boy smokes a skunk out of a woodchuck
+den along Sugar Creek.</p>
+
+<p><i>That</i> put the idea in our heads, and it stayed there until a
+week or two after Christmas, before it got us into trouble....
+Then just like a time-bomb exploding, all of a sudden that
+innocent idea which an innocent author had written in an innocent
+library book, exploded&mdash;and&mdash;Well, here goes the story.</p>
+
+<p>It was a swell Saturday afternoon at our house with bright
+sunlight on the snow and the weather just right for coasting. I
+was standing by our kitchen sink, getting ready to start wiping a
+big stack of dishes which my mom had just rinsed with steaming
+hot water out of the teakettle. I was just reaching for a drying
+towel when Mom said, "Better wash your hands first, Bill," which
+I had forgotten to do like I once in a while do. Right away I
+washed my hands with soap, in our bathroom, came back and grabbed
+the towel off the rack by the range, and started in carefully
+wiping the dishes, not exactly wanting to, on account of the
+clock on our mantel-shelf said it was one o'clock, and the gang
+was supposed to meet on Bumblebee hill right that very minute,
+with our sleds, and we were going to have the time of our lives
+coasting, and rolling in the snow, and making huge balls and snow
+men and everything....</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 7 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span>
+You should have seen those dishes fly&mdash;that is, they <i>started</i>
+to!</p>
+
+<p>"Be careful," Mom said, and meant it. "Those are my best dinner
+plates."</p>
+
+<p>"I will," I said, and I was for a jiffy, but my mind wasn't
+anywhere near those fancy plates Mom was washing and I was
+wiping.... In fact, there wasn't any sense in washing them
+anyway, 'cause they weren't the ones we had used that day at all.
+Why they weren't even dirty! They'd been standing on the shelf in
+Mom's cupboard for several months without being used.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't see why we have to wash them," I said, "when they aren't
+even dirty."</p>
+
+<p>"We're going to have company for dinner tomorrow," Mom explained,
+"and we <i>have</i> to wash them."</p>
+
+<p>"Wash them <i>before</i> we use them?" I said. It didn't make
+sense.... Why that very minute the gang would be hollering and
+screaming and coasting down the hill and having a wonderful time.</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly," Mom said. "We want them to sparkle so that when the
+table is set and the guests come in they'll see how beautiful
+they really are. See? Notice how dull this one is?" Mom held up
+one that hadn't been washed yet in her hot sudsy water nor rinsed
+in my hot clear water nor wiped and polished with my dry clean
+towel, which Mom's tea towels always were anyway, Mom being an
+extra clean housekeeper and couldn't help it, on account of her
+mother had been that way too,&mdash;and being that kind of a
+housekeeper is contagious, like catching the measles or smallpox
+or the mumps or something boys don't like.</p>
+
+<p>For some reason I remembered a part of a book I'd read, called
+<i>Alice in Wonderland</i>, and it was about a crazy queen who started
+to cry and say, "Oh ooooh! My finger's bleeding!"... And when
+Alice who was <i>in</i> Wonderland told her to wrap her finger up or
+something, the queen said, "Oh no, I haven't pricked it
+yet"&mdash;meaning it was bleeding <i>before</i> she had stuck a needle
+into it&mdash;which was a fairy story, and was crazy, so I said to
+Mom, "Seems funny to wash dishes <i>before</i> they're dirty&mdash;seems
+like a fairy story, like having your finger start bleeding before
+you stick a needle in it." I<!-- Page 8 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> knew Mom had read <i>Alice in
+Wonderland</i> 'cause she'd read it to me herself when I was little.</p>
+
+<p>But Mom was very smart. She said, with a mischievous grin in her
+voice, "That's a splendid idea.... Let's <i>pretend</i> this is <i>Bill
+Collins in Wonderland</i>, and get the dishes done right away. Fairy
+stories are always interesting, don't you think?" which I didn't,
+right then, but there wasn't any use arguing. In fact, Mom said
+it wasn't ever polite, so I quit, and said, "Who's coming for
+dinner tomorrow?" wondering if it might be some of the gang, and
+hoping it would be. I didn't know a one of the gang that would
+notice whether the dishes sparkled or not, although most of the
+gang's <i>Moms</i> probably would.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh&mdash;a surprise," Mom said.</p>
+
+<p>"Who?" I said. "My cousin Wally and his new baby sister?" As you
+know, if you've read <i>A New Sugar Creek Mystery</i>, I had a homely,
+red-haired cousin, named Walford, who lived in the city, who had
+a new baby sister. Mom had been to see the baby, and also Pop,
+but I hadn't, and didn't want to, and certainly didn't exactly
+want to see my red-haired cousin, Wally, but <i>would</i> like to see
+his crazy Airedale dog, and if Wally <i>was</i> coming, I hoped he
+would bring the wire-haired dog along....</p>
+
+<p>"It's a surprise," Mom said, and right that minute there was a
+whistle outside our house and at our front gate. I looked over
+the top of my stack of steaming dishes out through a clear place
+in the frosted window, and saw a fat-faced barrel-shaped boy
+standing with one hand which had a red mitten on it, holding onto
+a sled rope, and he was lifting up the latch on our wide gate
+with the other red-mittened hand....</p>
+
+<p>There was another boy there, who, I could tell without hardly
+looking, was Dragonfly, on account of he is spindle-legged and
+has large eyes like a dragonfly's eyes are. Dragonfly had on a
+brand new cap with ear-muffs on it. As you maybe know, Dragonfly
+was always getting the gang into trouble, on account of he always
+was doing such crazy things without thinking. He also was
+allergic to nearly everything and was always sneezing at the
+wrong time, just when we were supposed to be quiet. Also, he was
+about the only one in the gang whose mother was
+superstitious,&mdash;such as thinking it<!-- Page 9 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> is bad luck if a black cat
+crosses the road in front of you, or good luck if you find a
+horseshoe and hang it above one of the doors in your house.</p>
+
+<p>Just as Poetry had the latch of the wide gate lifted, I saw
+Dragonfly make a quick move, step with one foot on the iron pipe
+at the bottom of the gate's frame and give the gate a shove, and
+jump on with the other foot and ride on the gate while it was
+swinging open, which was something Pop wouldn't let <i>me</i> do, and
+which any boy shouldn't do, on account of if he keeps on doing
+it, it will make the gate sag, and maybe drag on the ground....</p>
+
+<p>Well, for a jiffy I forgot there was a window between me and the
+out-of-doors, and also that my mom was beside me, and also that
+my baby sister, Charlotte Ann, was asleep in Mom's bedroom in her
+baby bed, and without thinking I yelled real loud, "Hey,
+Dragonfly, you crazy goof! Don't DO that!"</p>
+
+<p>Right away I remembered Charlotte Ann was in the other room, on
+account of mom told me and also on account of Charlotte Ann woke
+up and made the kind of a noise a baby always makes when she
+wakes up and doesn't want to.</p>
+
+<p>Just that second, the gate Dragonfly was on was as wide open as
+it could go, and Dragonfly who didn't have a very good hold with
+his hands&mdash;and the gate being icy anyway&mdash;slipped off and went
+sprawling head over heels into a snowdrift in our yard....</p>
+
+<p>It was a funny sight, but not very funny 'cause I heard my pop's
+great big voice calling from our barn, yelling something that
+sounded like he sounds when somebody has done something he
+shouldn't and is supposed to quit quick, or I'd be sorry.</p>
+
+<p>I made a dive for our back door, swung it open, and with one of
+my Mom's good plates still in my hands, and without my hat on, I
+rushed out on our back board walk and yelled to Poetry and
+Dragonfly, and said, "I'll be there in about an hour! I've got to
+finish tomorrow's dishes first! Better go on down the hill and
+tell the gang I'll be there in maybe an hour or two," which is
+what is called sarcasm.</p>
+
+<p>And Poetry yelled, "We'll come and help you!"</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 10 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span>But it wasn't a good idea, 'cause the kitchen door was still open
+and Mom heard me and also heard Poetry and said to me, "Bill
+Collins, come back in here.... The very idea! I can't have those
+boys coming in with all that snow. I've just scrubbed the floor!"
+which is why they didn't come in, and also why barrel-shaped
+Poetry and spindle-legged Dragonfly started building a snow man
+right in our front yard, while they waited for me and Mom to
+finish playing <i>Alice in Wonderland</i>.</p>
+
+<p>Pretty soon I was done, though, and grabbed my coat from its hook
+in the corner of the kitchen, pulled my hat on my red head, with
+the ear-muffs tucked inside, on account of it wasn't a very cold
+day, but was warm enough for the snow to pack good and for making
+snow balls and snow men and everything. I put on my boots at the
+door, said "Good-bye" to Mom and went swishing out through the
+snow to Poetry and Dragonfly. I could already hear the rest of
+the gang yelling down on Bumblebee hill, so I grabbed my sled
+rope which was right beside our back door, and the three of us
+went as fast as we could through our gate.</p>
+
+<p>My pop was there, looking at the gate to see if Dragonfly had
+been too heavy for it, and just as we left, he said, "Never ride
+on a gate, boys, if you want to live long."</p>
+
+<p>His voice was kinda fierce, like it sometimes is, and he was
+looking at Dragonfly; then he looked at me and winked, and I knew
+he wasn't mad but still didn't want any boy to be dumb enough to
+ride on our gate again.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes sir, Mr. Collins," Dragonfly said politely, and grabbed his
+sled rope and started on the run across the road to a place in
+the rail fence where I always climbed through on my way to the
+woods.</p>
+
+<p>"Wait a minute!" Pop said, and we waited.</p>
+
+<p>His big bushy eyebrows were straight across, so I knew he liked
+us all right. "What?" I said, and he said, "You boys know, of
+course, that your new teacher, Mr. Black, is going to keep on
+teaching the Sugar Creek School&mdash;that the board can't ask him to
+resign just because the boys in the school liked their other
+teacher better, nor because he has had to punish several of them
+with old-fashioned beech switches...."</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 11 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span>Imagine my Pop saying such things, just when we had been thinking
+about having a lot of fun....</p>
+
+<p>"Yes sir," I said to Pop, remembering the beech switches behind
+the teacher's desk.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes sir," Poetry said politely.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes sir," Dragonfly yelled to him from the rail fence where he
+was already half-way through.</p>
+
+<p>We all hurried through the fence, and yelling and running and
+panting, we dragged our sleds through the woods to Bumblebee hill
+to where the gang was yelling and having a lot of fun.</p>
+
+<p>Well, we coasted for a long time, all of us. Even Little Tom
+Till, the red-haired, freckled-faced little brother of Big Bob
+Till who was Big Jim's worst enemy, was there. Time flew faster
+than anything, when all of a sudden Circus who had rolled a big
+snowball down the hill, said, "Let's make a snow man&mdash;let's make
+Mr. Black"&mdash;which sounded like more fun, so we all started in,
+not knowing that Circus was going to make a <i>comic</i> snow man, the
+most ridiculous looking snow man I'd ever seen, and not knowing
+something else very exciting which I'm going to tell you about
+just as quick as I can get to it in this story.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<!-- Page 12 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span>
+<h2><a name="Chapter_2" id="Chapter_2"></a>2</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>It was the craziest snow man I had ever seen when we got through.
+It didn't have any legs on account of we had to use a very large
+snowball for its foundation, but it had another even-larger
+snowball for its stomach, on account of our new teacher was
+<i>round</i> in the middle, especially in front, and it had a smaller
+head. Circus, whose idea it was to make it funny, had dashed home
+to our house and gotten some corn silk out of our crib and had
+made hair for the man's head, putting it all around the sides of
+the top of its head, but not putting any in the middle of the
+top, nor in the front, so it looked like an honest-to-goodness
+bald-headed man.... Then, while different ones of us were putting
+a row of buttons on his coat, which were black walnuts which we
+stuck into the snow in his stomach, Circus and Dragonfly
+disappeared, leaving only Poetry and Little Jim and Little Tom
+Till and me, that being all the rest of the gang that was there,
+on account of Big Jim had had to go with his pop that afternoon
+to take a load of cattle to the city.</p>
+
+<p>I was sitting down on my sled which was crosswise on the top of
+Little Jim's, which was crosswise on the top of Poetry's, making
+my seat just about knee high. Our snow man was at the bottom of
+the hill and not very far from us was a beech tree. Little Jim
+was standing there under its low-hanging branches, looking up
+into it, like he was thinking something very important which he
+nearly always is, Little Jim being the best Christian in the gang
+and always thinking and sometimes saying something he had learned
+in church or that his parents taught him from the Bible. There
+were nearly half of the leaves still on the tree in spite of its
+being winter and nearly every other tree in the woods was as bare
+as Old Mother Hubbard's cupboard. It was a beech tree and that
+kind of a tree nearly always keeps a lot of its old frost-bitten
+brown leaves on nearly all winter,<!-- Page 13 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> and only drops them off in
+the spring when the new leaves start to come, and push them off.</p>
+
+<p>It was the same tree where one summer day, there had been a big
+old mother bear and her cub. I, all of a sudden, while I was
+sitting there on my stack of sleds was remembering that fight
+we'd had with the old fierce old mad old mother bear.</p>
+
+<p>Anyway right that very minute while I was remembering the whole
+story, and I guessed maybe Little Jim was remembering it also,
+everything was so quiet, I said to Little Jim, "I bet you're
+thinking about how you killed a bear right there."</p>
+
+<p>Little Jim who had his stick, which he always carried with him,
+said, "Nope, something else."</p>
+
+<p>Poetry spoke up from where he was standing beside Mr. Black's
+snow statue, and said, "I'll bet you're thinking about the little
+cub which you had for a pet after you killed the bear."</p>
+
+<p>Little Jim took a swipe with his stick at the trunk of the tree,
+and I noticed that his stick went ker-whack right on some
+initials on the tree which said, W. J. C., which meant "William
+Jasper Collins," which is my full name, only nobody ever calls me
+by the <i>middle</i> name except my pop, who calls me that only when
+he doesn't like me or when I'm supposed to have done something I
+shouldn't. Then Little Jim said to Poetry, just as his stick
+ker-whammed the initials, "Nope, something else." Then he whirled
+around and started making tracks that looked like rabbit tracks
+in the snow with his stick, and Tom Till spoke up and said, "I'll
+bet you're thinking about the fight we had that day...."</p>
+
+<p>It was in that fight that I licked Little red-haired Tom Till,
+who with his big brother Bob had belonged to the other gang....
+But now Little Tom's parents lived in our neighborhood and Tom
+had joined the gang, and also went to our Sunday School, and was
+a swell little guy; and as you maybe know, Bob was still a tough
+guy, and hated Big Jim and all of us, and we never knew when he
+was going to start some new trouble in the Sugar Creek
+territory....</p>
+
+<p>"Well," I said, to Little Jim who was looking up into the tree
+again like he was still thinking something important, "what <i>are</i>
+you<!-- Page 14 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> thinking about?" and he said, "I was just thinking about all
+the leaves, and wondering why they didn't fall off like the ones
+on the maple trees do. Don't they know they're dead?"</p>
+
+<p>I looked at the tree Little Jim was looking at, and it was the
+first time I'd noticed that the beech tree still had nearly every
+one of its leaves on it. They were very brown, even browner than
+some of the maple and walnut tree leaves had been, when they'd
+all fallen off last fall.</p>
+
+<p>"How could they <i>know</i> they're dead, if they <i>are</i> dead?" Poetry
+said, and just that second I heard Circus and Dragonfly coming up
+from the direction of the bayou, which was down pretty close to
+Sugar Creek itself.... Circus had his knife in his hand and was
+just finishing trimming a small branch he had in his hand,
+Dragonfly had a long fierce-looking switch in one of <i>his</i> hands,
+and was swinging it around and saying loud and fierce, "All
+right, Bill Collins, you can take a licking for throwing that
+snowball.... Take <i>that</i> ... and <i>that</i> ... and <i>that</i>...."
+Dragonfly was making fierce swings with his switch and grunting
+every time he swung and every time he said "that...."</p>
+
+<p>I knew what he was thinking about,&mdash;the snowball I'd thrown in
+our schoolyard that week, which had accidentally hit our new
+teacher right in the middle of the top of his bald head....</p>
+
+<p>Well, in a jiffy, Circus had both those switches stuck into the
+snow man, right where his right hand was supposed to be.... Then,
+he reached into his pocket, and pulled out an ear of corn, and as
+quick as anything began to shell it ... shoving handfulls of the
+big yellow kernels into his pocket at the same time, and a jiffy
+later, all that was left was a long red corn-cob, which he broke
+in half and stuck one of the halves into the snowman's face for a
+nose.</p>
+
+<p>Then also as quick as anything, he took the other half of the red
+corn-cob and with his knife made a hole in its side near the
+bottom, took a small stick out of his pocket, stuck it into the
+cob! "What on earth?" I thought, and said so, but he said, "All
+right, everybody, shut your eyes," which we wouldn't, so we
+watched him finish what he was doing, which was making a pipe for
+the snow man to smoke.... A jiffy later, there it was, sticking
+into the snow man's snow face<!-- Page 15 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> right under his nose&mdash;a corn-cob
+pipe.... It looked very funny, and for a jiffy we all laughed,
+all except Little Jim who just giggled a little.</p>
+
+<p>We all stood back and looked at it, and it was the funniest
+looking snow man I'd ever seen.... Brown hair all around his
+head, and none in the middle of the top or the front, and a big
+red nose, and a corn-cob pipe sticking out at an angle, and black
+walnuts for buttons on his coat, and a couple of fierce-looking
+switches in his hand. Also there were two thin corn silk eyebrows
+that curled up a little....</p>
+
+<p>"There's only one thing wrong with it," Poetry said, in his
+duck-like voice, standing beside me and squinting up at the
+ridiculous looking snow man.</p>
+
+<p>"What?" I said, thinking how perfect it was.</p>
+
+<p>"You can't tell who it is supposed to be. It needs some extra
+identification."</p>
+
+<p>"It's perfect," I said, and looked at Little Jim to see if he
+didn't think the same thing, but he was looking up into the beech
+tree again, like he was still thinking about something mysterious
+and wasn't interested in an ordinary snow man. I looked toward
+Dragonfly and he was listening toward a half dozen little cedar
+trees in the direction of the bayou, like he was either seeing or
+hearing something, which he thought he was, for right that second
+he said, "Psst, gang, quiet! I think I saw something move over
+there&mdash;sh! Don't look now, or he'll&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>We all looked, of course, but didn't see anything, although I had
+a funny feeling inside of me which was, "What if it's Mr. Black
+watching us? What if all of a sudden he should come walking out
+from behind those cedar trees and see the snow man we've made of
+him, and what if he'd decide to use one or two of the switches on
+us?"&mdash;not a one of us being sure he didn't like us well enough to
+do that to us.</p>
+
+<p>Poetry spoke up then and said, "I say, it's not quite perfect.
+There's one thing wrong with it, and I'm going to fix that right
+this very minute." With that remark, he pulled off one of his red
+mittens, shoved one of his fat hands inside his coat pocket,
+pulled something out,<!-- Page 16 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> and started to shuffle toward Mr. Black's
+snow statue. I could hardly believe my eyes at what I saw, but
+there it was as plain as day, a red, cloth-bound book with gold
+letters on it which said, <i><ins class="TNsilent" title="Transcriber's note: original reads 'The Hoosier Schoolmaster,'"><a name="THS" id="THS"></a>The Hoosier Schoolmaster</ins></i>. I knew
+right away it was the book he and I had seen in his library one
+night and had read part of it, that part especially where the
+tough gang of boys in the story had caused the teacher a lot of
+trouble, and had locked him out of the schoolhouse; and then the
+teacher, who had been very smart, had climbed up on top of the
+school and put a flat board across the top of the chimney, and
+the smoke which couldn't get out of the chimney had poured out of
+the stove inside, and all the tough gang of boys had been smoked
+out....</p>
+
+<p>"What are you going to do?" I said to Poetry, and he said,
+"Nothing," and right away was doing it, which was sticking two
+sticks in the snow man's stomach side by side and then opening
+<i>The Hoosier Schoolmaster</i> to the place where there was the
+picture of the teacher on the roof, and laying the book flat open
+across the two sticks.</p>
+
+<p>"There you are, Sir," Poetry said, talking to the snow man. "The
+Hoosier Schoolmaster himself." Then Poetry made a bow as low as
+he could, he being so fat he grunted every time he stooped over
+very far.</p>
+
+<p>Well, it was funny, and most of us laughed, Circus scooped up a
+snowball and started to throw it at it, but we all stopped him on
+account of not wanting to have all our hard work spoiled in a few
+minutes. Besides, Poetry all of a sudden, wanted to take a
+picture of it, and his camera was at his house which was away
+down past the sycamore tree and the cave, where we all wanted to
+go for a while to see Old Man Paddler. So we decided to leave Mr.
+Black out there by himself at the bottom of Bumblebee hill until
+we came back later, which we did.</p>
+
+<p>"He ought to have a hat on," Dragonfly said. "He'll catch his
+death of cold with his bald head."</p>
+
+<p>"Or he might get stung on the head by a bumblebee," Circus said,
+and Little Jim spoke up all of a sudden and said, like he was
+almost<!-- Page 17 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> mad at us, "Can anybody help it that he gets bald? My
+pop's beginning to lose some of his hair on top...." Then he
+grabbed his stick which he had leaned up against the beech tree
+for a jiffy, and struck very fiercely at a tall brown mullein
+stalk that was standing there in a little open space, and the
+seeds scattered in every direction, one of them hitting me hard
+right on my freckled face just below my right eye, and stung like
+everything; then Little Jim started running as fast as he could
+go in the direction of the sycamore tree, like he had been mad at
+us for something we'd done wrong. In fact, when he said that, I
+felt a kind of a sickish feeling inside of me, like maybe I <i>had</i>
+done something wrong. I grabbed my stick and started off on the
+run after Little Jim, calling out to the rest of the gang to
+hurry up, and saying, "Last one to the sycamore tree is a cow's
+tail," and in a jiffy we were running and jumping and diving
+around bushes and trees and leaping over snow-covered brushpiles
+toward the old sycamore tree and the mouth of the cave, which was
+there, and which as you know is a very long cave, and comes out
+at the other end in the cellar of Old Man Paddler's cabin.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<!-- Page 18 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span>
+<h2><a name="Chapter_3" id="Chapter_3"></a>3</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Of course everybody knows about Old Man Paddler, the kindest old
+long whiskered old man who ever lived, and who was the best
+friend the Sugar Creek Gang ever had. He lived up in the hills
+above Sugar Creek, and almost every week the gang went up to see
+him&mdash;sometimes in the summer-time we went nearly every day. We
+went in the winter, too, on account of he lived all by himself
+and we had to go up to take him things which our moms were always
+cooking for him, and also we had to be sure he didn't get sick
+'cause there wouldn't be anybody there to take care of him or
+call the doctor for him on account of he didn't have any
+telephone....</p>
+
+<p>After a little while we were tired of running so fast, so we
+slowed down, it being easier to be a cow's tail than to get all
+out of breath. Poetry and I were side by side most of the time
+with Little Jim walking along behind us and with Little Tom Till
+and Circus and Dragonfly swishing on ahead of us. Once when
+Little red-haired Tom and Little Jim were beside each other
+behind Poetry and me, I heard Little Jim say to red-haired Tom,
+"Mom says for you to be ready a little early tomorrow morning, on
+account of the choir has to practice their anthem again before
+they sing."</p>
+
+<p>I knew what Little Jim was talking about 'cause his folks stopped
+at Tom's house every Sunday morning about nine o'clock, and
+Little Tom got in and rode to Sunday School with them in their
+big maroon and grey car. Little Jim's very pretty mom was the
+pianist at our church, and had to be always on time. Little Jim's
+words came out kinda jerkily like he was doing something that
+made him short of breath while he talked. I turned around quick
+to see, and sure enough, he was shuffling along, making rabbit
+tracks with his stick, and saying his words every punch of his
+stick into the snow.</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 19 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span>Little Tom answered Little Jim by saying, "O de koke," which is
+the same as saying, "Okey doke," which means "O.K." which is what
+most anybody says when he means "All right," meaning Tom Till
+would be ready early, and that when Little Jim's folks came
+driving up to their front gate tomorrow, Little Tom, with his
+best clothes on, would come running out of their <ins class="TNsilent" title="Transcriber's note: original reads 'dilipidated'"><a name="dilapidated" id="dilapidated"></a>dilapidated</ins> old
+unpainted house, carrying his New Testament, which Old Man
+Paddler had bought for him.... Then they'd all swish away
+together to Sunday School.</p>
+
+<p>Then I heard Little Jim ask something else which showed what a
+grand little guy he was. "S'pose maybe your mother would like to
+go with us, too?"</p>
+
+<p>"My mother would <i>like</i> to go with us," Tom said to Little Jim,
+"but she doesn't have any clothes that're good enough." And
+knowing the reason why was because her husband drank up nearly
+all the money he made in the Sugar Creek beer taverns, and also
+drank whiskey which he bought in the liquor store&mdash;knowing that,
+I felt my teeth gritting hard and I took a fierce swing with the
+stick I was carrying, at a little maple tree beside me.... I
+socked that tree so fierce with my stick, that my hands stung so
+bad they were almost numb; the stick broke in the middle and one
+end of it flew ahead to where Circus and Dragonfly were and
+nearly hit them.</p>
+
+<p>"Hey, you!" Dragonfly yelled back toward us, "What you trying to
+do&mdash;kill us?"</p>
+
+<p>"What on <i>earth</i>!" Circus yelled back to me, and I stood looking
+at the broken end of the rest of the stick in my hand, then
+turned like a flash and whirled around and threw it as hard as I
+could straight toward another tree about twenty feet away. That
+broken stick hit the tree right in the center of its trunk, with
+a loud whack.</p>
+
+<p>I didn't answer them in <i>words</i> at all. I was so mad at Tom's pop
+and at beer and whiskey and stuff.</p>
+
+<p>But I couldn't waste all my temper on something I couldn't help,
+so I kept still and we all went on to the cave, and went in, and
+followed its long narrow passageway clear through, until we came
+to the big wooden door which opened into Old Man Paddler's
+cellar.<!-- Page 20 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> As soon as we got there, Circus, who was always the
+leader of our gang when Big Jim wasn't with us, stopped us, and
+made us keep still, then he knocked on the door&mdash;three knocks,
+then two, then three more, then two, which was the code the gang
+always used when we came, so Old Man Paddler would know it was
+us.</p>
+
+<p>If he was home, he would call down and say in his quavering old
+voice, "Who's there?" and we'd answer, and right away we'd hear
+his trap door in the floor of his house open, and hear his steps
+coming down his stairway and hear him lift the big wooden latch
+that held the door shut, and then when he'd see us, he'd say,
+"Well, well, well, well, the Sugar Creek Gang&mdash;" then he'd name
+every one of us by our nicknames, and say, "Come on in, boys,
+we'll have some sassafras tea," which all of us, especially
+Little Jim, liked so very much.</p>
+
+<p>Everything was quiet while Circus knocked ... three times, then
+two, then three, and then two again, while we all waited and
+listened. There was always something kinda spooky about that
+knock, and being in a cave I always felt a little queer until I
+heard the old man's voice answer us. In fact, I always felt
+creepy until we got inside the cabin and the trap door was down
+again.</p>
+
+<p>We all stood there, outside that big wooden door, waiting for Old
+Man Paddler to call down to us, but there wasn't a single sound,
+so Circus knocked again: three times, then two, then three, and
+then two again, and we all waited. Except for my little pocket
+flashlight which my pop had given me for Christmas, we didn't
+have any light, and we couldn't waste the battery by keeping it
+on all the time, so I turned it off, but it felt so spooky with
+it off and nobody answering Circus's knock that I turned it on
+again just as Dragonfly who was always hearing things first,
+said, "Psst!" which meant "I heard something mysterious!
+Everybody keep still a minute," which we did; and then as plain
+as day I heard it myself, an old man's voice talking. It was high
+pitched and quavering, and kinda sad-like, like he was begging
+somebody to do something for him....</p>
+
+<p>We were all so quiet as mice, not a one of us moving or hardly
+breathing.... I couldn't <ins class="TNsilent" title="Transcriber's note: original reads 'heart a word'"><a name="hearaword" id="hearaword"></a>hear a word</ins> the old man was saying, but
+he sounded like he needed help.... I remembered how we'd all
+saved<!-- Page 21 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> his life two different times&mdash;once when a robber had tied
+him up and he'd have starved if we hadn't found him, and another
+time when he'd fallen down his cellar steps in the winter-time
+and his fire had gone out, and we had started a fire for him with
+punk, using the thick lenses of his reading glasses for a
+magnifying glass&mdash;which any boy can do if he can get some real
+dry punk and a magnifying glass.... First you focus the red hot
+light which shines from the sun through the magnifying glass,
+right on the punk until it makes a little smoking live coal, then
+you hold a piece of dry paper against the red glow on the punk,
+and blow and blow with your breath until all of a sudden there
+will be an honest to goodness flame of fire....</p>
+
+<p>Say, when I heard Old Man Paddler half talking and half crying up
+there in his cabin, I got a very queer feeling inside of me....</p>
+
+<p>"Quick!" Circus said, "He's in trouble. Let's go in and help
+him." Circus gave a shove on the door, turning the latch at the
+same time, but the door wouldn't budge.</p>
+
+<p>"It's barred," Poetry said, and I remembered the heavy bar on the
+inside which the old man always dropped into place whenever he
+was inside.</p>
+
+<p>"Sh! Listen!" Little Jim said, and we shushed and listened.</p>
+
+<p>Say, that little guy had his ear pressed up real close to a crack
+in the door, and in the light of my flashlight which I didn't
+shine right straight <i>on</i> his face on account of it might blind
+him, I could see that his eyes had a very far away look in them,
+like he was thinking something important and maybe in his mind's
+eyes was seeing something even more important.</p>
+
+<p>"What is it?" I said to him, and he said, "Don't worry, he's all
+right. He doesn't need our help&mdash;here, listen yourself," which I
+did, and right away I knew Little Jim was right.... For this is
+what I heard the old man saying in his quavering, high-pitched
+voice, "... And please, You're the best friend I ever had,
+letting me live all these long years, taking care of me, keeping
+me well and strong and happy most of the time. But I'm getting
+lonesome now, getting older every day, getting so I can't walk
+without a cane, and I can't stand the cold weather anymore, and I
+know it won't be long before I'll have to move out of this
+crippled-up old house and come to live<!-- Page 22 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> with You in a new
+place.... I'll be awful glad to see Sarah again, and my boys....
+And that reminds me,&mdash;Please bless the boys who live and play
+along old Sugar Creek&mdash;all of 'em&mdash;Big Jim, Little Jim, Circus,
+Dragonfly, Poetry, Bill Collins...."</p>
+
+<p>I knew what the kind man was doing all right, 'cause I'd seen and
+heard him do it many a time in our little white church, and also
+I'd seen him doing it once down on his knees behind the old
+sycamore tree all by himself.... When I <ins class="TNsilent" title="Transcriber's note: original reads 'heard his mention'"><a name="heardhim" id="heardhim"></a>heard him mention</ins> my
+name, I gulped, and some crazy tears got into my eyes and into my
+voice.... I had to swallow to keep from choking out a word that
+would have let the gang know I was about to cry.... Like a flash
+I thought of something and I whirled around and grabbed Little
+Tom Till and shoved his ear down to the crack in the door and put
+my own ear just above his so I could hear too, and this is what
+the old man was saying up there in the cabin, "And also bless the
+new member of the gang, Tom Till, whose father is an infidel and
+spends his money on liquor and gambling.... Oh God, how can John
+Till expect his boys to keep from turning out to be criminals....
+Bless his boy, Bob, whose life has been so bent and twisted by
+his father.... And bless the boys' poor mother, who hasn't had a
+chance in life.... Lord, you know she'd go to church and be a
+Christian if John would let her.... And please...."</p>
+
+<p>That was as far as I got to listen right that minute cause I
+heard somebody choke and gulp and all of a sudden Little Tom Till
+was sniffling like he had tears in his eyes and in his voice, and
+then that little guy who was the grandest little guy who ever had
+a drunkard for a father, started to sob out-loud like he was
+heart-broken, and couldn't help himself.</p>
+
+<p>I got the strangest feeling inside of me like I do when anybody
+cries, and I wanted to help him stop crying and didn't know what
+to do.</p>
+
+<p>"'Smatter?" Dragonfly said, and Tom said, "I want to go home!"</p>
+
+<p>"'Smatter?" Circus said, "Are you sick?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yeah, what's the matter?" Poetry's duck-like voice squawked, but
+Little Jim was a smart little guy and he said, "He doesn't feel
+well. Let's all take him home."</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 23 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span>"I'll go b-b-by m-m-myself," Little Tom said, and started back
+into the cave, but I knew it was too dark for him to see, so I
+grabbed his arm and pulled him back. "We'll all go with you."</p>
+
+<p>"But we wanted to see Old Man Paddler," Dragonfly said, "What's
+the use to go home? I want some sassafras tea."</p>
+
+<p>"Keep still," I said, "Tom's sick. He ought to go home." I knew
+Little Tom was terribly embarrassed, and that he'd be like a
+little scared rabbit if we took him into Old Man Paddler's cabin
+now.</p>
+
+<p>We must have made a lot of noise talking 'cause right that minute
+I heard Old Man Paddler's voice up there calling down to us,
+"Wait a minute, boys! I'll be right down...."</p>
+
+<p>Well, it would have been impolite to run away now, and so I
+whispered to Tom, "Me and Little Jim are the only ones who heard
+him praying and&mdash;and we&mdash;we like you anyway." I gave Tom a kinda
+fierce half a hug around his shoulder, just as I heard Old Man
+Paddler's trap door in the floor of his house opening, and a
+shaft of light came in through the crack in the door right in
+front of us.... In a jiffy our door would open too, and we'd see
+that kind old long whiskered old man, with his twinkling grey
+eyes, and pretty soon we'd all climb up the cellar steps and be
+inside his warm cabin with a fire crackling in his fireplace and
+with the teakettle on the stove for making sassafras tea, and the
+old man would be telling us a story about the Sugar Creek of long
+ago....</p>
+
+<p>All of a sudden, I got the strangest warm feeling inside of me,
+and I felt so good, something just bubbled up in my heart.... It
+was the queerest feeling, and made me feel good all over, 'cause
+right that second one of Little Tom's arms reached out and gave
+me a very awkward half a hug real quick, like he was very bashful
+or something, but like he was saying, "You're my best friend,
+Bill.... I'd lick the stuffin's out of the biggest bum in the
+world for you, in fact I'd do <i>anything</i>."</p>
+
+<p>But his arm didn't stay more'n just time enough for him to let it
+fall to his side again, but I knew he liked me a lot and it was a
+wonderful feeling.</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 24 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span>Right that second, I heard the old man lift the bar on the big
+wooden door, and push it open, and real bright light came in and
+shone all over all of us, and the old man said, "Well, well,
+well, well, the Sugar Creek Gang! Come on in, boys, we'll have a
+party."</p>
+
+<p>A jiffy later, we were all inside his cellar, and scrambling up
+his cellar steps into his warm cabin.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<!-- Page 25 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span>
+<h2><a name="Chapter_4" id="Chapter_4"></a>4</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>It didn't take more'n several jiffies for all of us to be inside
+that old-fashioned cabin, where there was a crackling fire in his
+fireplace and another fire roaring in his kitchen stove and where
+there was a teakettle singing like everything, meaning that
+pretty soon we'd have some sassafras tea. In fact, as soon as the
+trap-door was down and we were all sitting or standing or half
+lying down on his couch and on chairs, the old man put some
+sassafras chips from sassafras tree-roots into a pan on the stove
+and poured boiling water on it, and let it start to boil. Almost
+right away the water began to turn as red as the chips themselves
+and Little Jim's eyes grew very bright as he watched the water
+boil.</p>
+
+<p>One of the first things I noticed when I looked around the room a
+little was the old man's Bible which was open to the Sunday
+School lesson, like maybe he'd been studying, getting ready for
+church tomorrow. I knew it was tomorrow's lesson 'cause at our
+house we had already studied the same lesson two or three times,
+on account of Mom and Pop always started to study next week's
+lesson a whole week ahead of time, so, as Pop says, "different
+ideas will come popping into our heads all week long even while
+we're working or studying or something." I knew Little Jim's
+parents always started studying their lessons the first thing in
+the week, also, and maybe that was why that little guy was always
+thinking of so many things that were important.</p>
+
+<p>From where I was sitting, I could look through a clear place in
+the old man's kitchen window which didn't have any frost on it,
+and I could see the shadow the smoke was making which was coming
+out of the chimney, and the longish darkish shadow was moving up
+the side of the old man's woodshed out there, and on up the slant
+of the snow-covered roof, making me think of a great big long
+dark<!-- Page 26 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span>ish worm twisting and squirming and crawling up a stick in
+the summer-time.... There must have been almost a foot of snow on
+the roof of that woodshed, I thought, and that reminded me of the
+snow man at the bottom <ins class="TNsilent" title="Transcriber's note: original reads 'Bumblee hill'"><a name="Bumble" id="Bumble"></a>of
+Bumblebee hill</ins>, and when I noticed that
+the shadows of the trees out there were getting very long it
+meant that it wouldn't be long till the sun went down, and if
+Poetry and I were to get a good picture of Mr. Black's snow
+statue, we'd have to hurry.</p>
+
+<p>Old Man Paddler all of a sudden spoke up and said to us, looking
+especially at me, "One of you boys want to take the water pail
+and go down to the spring and get a pail of fresh water?" which I
+didn't exactly want to do, on account of it was very warm in the
+cabin and would be very cold out there, but when Little Jim piped
+up and said, "Sure, I'll do it," I all of a sudden said the same
+thing, and Little Jim and I were out there in less than a jiffy,
+with the old man's empty pail in one of my hands, and were
+galloping along through the snow toward the spring, which was
+right close to a big spreading beech tree, which, like the one at
+the bottom of Bumblebee hill, still had most of its old brown
+leaves on it....</p>
+
+<p>We filled the pail real quick with the sparkling, very cold
+water, and hurried back to the cabin. I started to open the door,
+when Little Jim said, "Wait a minute, I want to see something,"
+and he swished around quick and went back down the path toward
+the spring, and turned around again and looked up toward the
+chimney of the old man's cabin. He squinted his eyes to keep the
+sun from blinding them and looked and looked, then he looked away
+in the direction of the woodshed, and I wondered what in the
+world that little guy was thinking.</p>
+
+<p>"'Smatter?" I said, and he said, "Nothing,&mdash;there's certainly a
+lot of snow on the roof of that woodshed, and there isn't any on
+the old man's cabin. How come?" Then he socked a stump with his
+stick, and came lickety-sizzle to the door, opened it for me to
+go in with the pail of water, which I did.</p>
+
+<p>Well, as soon as we got through with our sassafras tea, which
+Little Jim said tasted like a very sweet hot lolly pop, we all
+scrambled<!-- Page 27 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> around in the old man's cabin getting ready to go
+home. If it had been in the summer-time, we would have gone home
+the long way round, following the old wagon trail, and then we'd
+have taken a short cut through the swamp, and if it had been
+summer-time maybe stopped at the big mulberry tree and climbed up
+into it and helped ourselves to the biggest, ripest mulberries
+that grew anywhere along Sugar Creek. But it wasn't summer, so we
+took the short cut, going through the cave to the sycamore tree,
+where most of us separated and went in different directions to
+our different homes, all except Poetry and me, who, as you know,
+were going to get his camera and take a picture of Mr. Black's
+snow statue, his parents having bought a new camera for him at
+Christmas.</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>"Well, well," Poetry's mother said to us when we stopped beside
+their big maple tree, and I waited a jiffy for him to go in the
+house and get the camera, "<i>where</i> have you boys been? I've been
+phoning all over for you, Leslie"&mdash;meaning she had been phoning
+all over for Poetry, <i>Leslie</i> being the name which his parents
+used and which he had to use himself when he signed his name in
+school ... but he would rather be called Poetry.</p>
+
+<p>"'Smatter?" Poetry asked his kinda round-shaped mom, "Didn't I do
+my chores, or something?"</p>
+
+<p>Then Poetry's mother startled us by saying, "We've had company.
+Mr. Black was here. He just left a minute ago."</p>
+
+<p>I had a queer feeling start creeping up my spine.</p>
+
+<p>"What did he want&mdash;I mean, where did he go? Where'd you tell him
+we were?" Poetry and I both said at the same time only in
+different words, but with probably the same scared feeling
+inside, and thinking, "What if she told him we were playing over
+on Bumblebee hill and he had gone there?"</p>
+
+<p>"He didn't seem to want anything in particular. He was out
+exercising his horse. Such a beautiful big brown saddle horse!"
+Poetry's mother said. "And such a very beautiful saddle. He looks
+very stunning in his brown leather jacket and riding boots."</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 28 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span>"What did he want?" Poetry said again, taking the words right out
+of my mind, and Poetry's mom said, "Nothing in particular. He
+said he wanted to get acquainted with the parents of his boys."</p>
+
+<p>I looked at Poetry and he looked at me, and he said to his mom,
+"He's too heavy for the horse," and his mother looked at Poetry
+who was also heavy and said, "Too much blackberry pie, I suppose.
+You boys want a piece?"</p>
+
+<p>Poetry's face lit up, and he said, "We'll take a piece apiece,"
+which we did, and then I said to him all of a sudden, "The sun'll
+still be shining on Mr. Black. If we want to get his picture,
+we'll have to hurry!"</p>
+
+<p>"Shining on <i>who</i>?" Poetry's mom said, and Poetry said, "The sun
+is shining in through the window on my blackberry pie," and
+winked at me, and his mom went into their parlor to answer the
+phone which was ringing.</p>
+
+<p>Poetry finished his pie at the same time, slithered out of his
+chair and went up stairs to his room to get his camera, just as I
+heard his mother say into their telephone, "Why yes, Mrs.
+Mansfield, we do&mdash;certainly, I'll send Leslie right over with it
+right away&mdash;oh, that's all right&mdash;no, he won't mind, I'm sure."</p>
+
+<p>It sounded like an ordinary conversation any mother might have
+with any ordinary neighbor. I'd heard my mom say something like
+that many a time, the only difference being she would say, "Why
+yes, Mrs. <ins class="TNsilent" title="Transcriber's note: original reads 'So-ond-So'"><a name="SoSo" id="SoSo"></a>So-and-So</ins>, we have it. I'll send <i>Bill</i> over with it
+right away&mdash;oh, that's all right&mdash;no, he won't mind, I'm sure,"
+which I hardly ever did anymore on account of my pop wouldn't let
+me. I was always running an errand for some neighbor who didn't
+have any boys in the family, which is what boys are for.</p>
+
+<p>I was wondering where Poetry had to go, with what, and why, when
+Poetry's mom called up the stairs to him and said, "Leslie, will
+you bring down <i>The Hoosier Schoolmaster</i>, and you and Bill take
+it over to Mrs. Mansfield."</p>
+
+<p>I heard Poetry gasp and call back down, "Get WHAT?"</p>
+
+<p>"<i>The Hoosier Schoolmaster!</i>" his mom called up. "It's on the
+second shelf in your library&mdash;it's a red book with gold
+lettering<!-- Page 29 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> on it;" then Mrs. Thompson said to me, "Having a new
+gentleman teacher in the community has made everybody interested
+in that very interesting book, so Mrs. Mansfield is going to
+review it for the Literary Society next Wednesday night."</p>
+
+<p>Then Poetry's mom called up to him and asked, "Find it, Leslie?"
+which of course he hadn't and couldn't, anyway, not upstairs,
+'cause right that minute it was lying open on two sticks stuck
+into Mr. Black's stomach at the bottom of Bumblebee hill. For
+some reason it didn't seem as if we wanted to tell Mrs. Thompson
+where it was, but it looked like we were in for it.</p>
+
+<p>We couldn't come right out and tell her where the book was,
+'cause she was like most of the other parents in Sugar Creek
+territory&mdash;she thought Mr. Black, who rode a fine horse and wore
+a brown leather jacket and riding boots and who could smile
+politely and tip his hat whenever he saw a Sugar Creek Gang
+mother, was a very fine gentleman, and certainly didn't know what
+a hard time the gang had been having with him.</p>
+
+<p>Just that second Poetry called down and said, "Bill and I'll take
+it to her."</p>
+
+<p>The gang didn't know Mrs. Mansfield very well, on account of she
+was a new person in the Sugar Creek territory and didn't have any
+boys, and was more interested in society than any of the gang's
+moms and was always reading important books on account of it
+maybe made her seem more important if she knew the names of all
+the important books and who wrote them.</p>
+
+<p>Poetry came downstairs with his camera, coming down in a big
+hurry and saying to me in a business-like voice, "Let's get
+going, Bill," and made a dive for the door so his mom wouldn't
+see he didn't have <i>The Hoosier Schoolmaster</i>, not wanting her to
+ask where it was, so he wouldn't have to tell her.</p>
+
+<p>Both Poetry and I were out of doors in a jiffy and the door was
+half shut behind us when Poetry's mother said, "Hadn't we better
+wrap it up, Leslie,&mdash;just in case you might accidentally drop
+it?"</p>
+
+<p>"I promise you, I won't drop it," Poetry said, "besides we want
+to hurry. I want to take a picture of something before the sun
+gets too far down. Come on, Bill, hurry up!" Poetry squawked to
+me,<!-- Page 30 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> and I hurried after him, both of us running fast out through
+their back yard in the direction of Bumblebee hill.</p>
+
+<p>But Poetry's mother called to us from the back door and said,
+"Where are you going? Mrs. Mansfield doesn't live in <i>that</i>
+direction."</p>
+
+<p>Poetry and I stopped and looked at each other.</p>
+
+<p>All of a sudden we knew we were caught, so Poetry said to me,
+"What'll we tell her?"</p>
+
+<p>And remembering something my pop had taught me to do when I was
+caught in a trap, I said all of a sudden, quoting my pop, "Tell
+her the truth."</p>
+
+<p>Poetry scowled, "You tell her," he said, which I did, saying
+"Mrs. Thompson, the gang had <i>The Hoosier Schoolmaster</i> this
+afternoon, and we left him&mdash;I mean <i>it</i>&mdash;down on Bumblebee hill.
+We have to go there first to get it," and all of a sudden I felt
+fine inside, and know that Pop was right. Poetry's mom might not
+like to hear <i>exactly</i> where the book was, right that very
+minute, and it didn't seem exactly right to tell her, so when she
+didn't ask me, I didn't tell her.</p>
+
+<p>Poetry's mother must have understood her very mischievous boy,
+though, and didn't want to get him into a corner, for she said,
+"Thank you for telling me. Now I can phone Mrs. Mansfield it will
+take a little longer for you to get there with the book&mdash;and, by
+the way, if you see Mr. Black tell him about next Wednesday
+night&mdash;you probably will see him. I told him you boys were over
+on Bumblebee hill, and how to get there. He seemed to want to see
+you."</p>
+
+<p>Poetry and I both yelled back to her, saying, "You told him
+WHAT!" and without another word or waiting to hear what she said,
+we started like lightning as fast as we could go, straight for
+Sugar Creek and Bumblebee hill, wondering if by taking a short
+cut we could get there before Mr. Black did; and in my mind's
+eye, I could see Poetry, IF we got there first, making a dive for
+<i>The Hoosier Schoolmaster</i> on the snow man; and I could see
+myself, making a leap for the man's head, and knocking it
+completely off, I could see it go rolling the rest of the way
+down the hill with its cornsilk hair getting covered with
+snow&mdash;also I could see Mr. Black in his<!-- Page 31 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> brown riding jacket and
+boots, on his great big saddle horse, riding up right about the
+same minute.</p>
+
+<p>What if we didn't get there first? I thought. What if we didn't?
+It would be awful! Absolutely <i>terrible</i>! And Poetry must have
+been thinking the same thing, 'cause for once in his life, in
+spite of his being barrel-shaped and very heavy, and never could
+run very fast, I had a hard time keeping up with him....</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<!-- Page 32 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span>
+<h2><a name="Chapter_5" id="Chapter_5"></a>5</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>All the time while Poetry and I were running through the snowy
+woods, squishety-sizzle, zip-zip-zip, crunch, crunch, crunch, I
+could see in my mind's eye our new teacher's big beautiful brown
+saddle horse, prancing along in the snow toward Bumblebee hill,
+carrying his heavy load just as easy as if it wasn't anything.
+Right that very minute, maybe, the horse would be standing and
+pawing the ground and in a hurry to get started somewhere, while
+maybe its rider was standing with <i>The Hoosier Schoolmaster</i> in
+his hand, looking at the picture of the schoolhouse, and then
+maybe looking at the ridiculous-looking snow man we'd made of
+him....</p>
+
+<p>In a few minutes Poetry and I were so out of wind that we had to
+stop and walk awhile, especially because I had a pain in my right
+side which I sometimes got when I ran too fast too long. "My side
+hurts," I said to Poetry, and he said, "Better stop and stoop
+down and unbuckle your boot, and buckle it again, and it'll quit
+hurting."</p>
+
+<p>"It'll WHAT?" I said, thinking his idea was crazy.</p>
+
+<p>"It'll quit hurting, if you stop and stoop down and unbuckle your
+boot and then buckle it again."</p>
+
+<p>Well, I couldn't run anymore with the sharp pain in my side, so
+even though I thought Poetry's idea was crazy, I stopped and
+stooped over, biting off my mittens with my teeth, and laying
+them down on the snow for a jiffy and unbuckling one of my boots
+and buckling it again while I was still stooped over; then I
+straightened up, and would you believe it? That crazy ache in my
+side was actually gone! There wasn't even a sign of it.</p>
+
+<p>I panted a minute longer to get my wind, then we started on the
+run again. "It's crazy," I said, "but it worked. How come?"</p>
+
+<p>"Poetry Thompson's father told me," he said, puffing along ahead
+of me, "only it won't work in the summer-time. In the summer-time
+you have to stop running, and stop and stoop down and pick up<!-- Page 33 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> a
+rock, and spit on it and turn it over and lay it down again very
+carefully upside down, and your side will quit hurting."</p>
+
+<p>Right then, I stumbled over a log and fell down on my face, and
+scrambled to my feet and we hurried on, and I said to Poetry,
+"What do you do when you get a sore toe from stumping it on a
+log&mdash;stoop over and scrape the snow off the log and kiss it, and
+turn it over, and then&mdash;?"</p>
+
+<p>It wasn't any time to be funny, only worried, but Poetry
+explained to me that it was the <i>stooping</i> that was what did it.
+"It's getting your body bent double, that does it.&mdash;Hey! Look!
+There he is now!"</p>
+
+<p>I looked in the direction of our house, since we were getting
+pretty close to Bumblebee hill, and sure enough, there was our
+teacher sitting on his great big beautiful brown horse which was
+standing and prancing right beside the old iron pitcher pump not
+more than twenty feet from our back door. Mom was standing there
+with her sweater on and a scarf on her head talking to him or
+maybe listening to him, then I saw Mr. Black tip his hat like an
+honest-to-goodness gentleman, and bow, and his pretty horse
+whirled about and went in a horse hurry to our front gate which
+was open, and being held open by my pop, and he went on,
+galloping up the road, his horse galloping in the shadow which
+they made on the snowy road ahead of them.</p>
+
+<p>Well, that was that, I thought, and Poetry and I who were at the
+top of Bumblebee hill hurried down to where he and I had left our
+sleds, the rest of the gang having taken theirs with them when
+we'd gone to the cave. At the bottom of the hill, we saw the
+great big tall snow man. The sun was still shining right straight
+on it, but wouldn't be, pretty soon, but would go down. So Poetry
+and I stopped close to it, and he got his camera ready.</p>
+
+<p>"You get <i>The Hoosier Schoolmaster</i>, Bill, and turn it around and
+stand it up against the Hoosier schoolmaster's stomach." Poetry
+ordered, "so I can get a good picture of it," which I started to
+do, and then gasped.... <i>There wasn't any Hoosier Schoolmaster!</i>
+The book was gone. "It's gone!" I said to Poetry, and it was, and
+there was a page of yellow writing paper, instead.</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 34 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span>"Hey!" I said, "There's something printed on it!" Sure enough,
+there was. The piece of yellow writing tablet was standing up on
+the two sticks, leaning against the snow man's stomach, and was
+fastened so the wind wouldn't blow it away, by another stick
+stuck through the paper and into the snow man's stomach.</p>
+
+<p>"It's your poem, Poetry," I said, remembering the poem which
+Poetry had written about our teacher. "How'd it get here?" Right
+away I was reading the poem again, which was almost funny, only I
+didn't feel like laughing on account of wondering who had stolen
+the book and had put the poem here in its place. The poem was
+written exactly right:</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<span class="i2">"<i>The Sugar Creek Gang had the worst of teachers,</i></span><br />
+<span class="i3"><i>And 'Black' his named was called,</i></span><br />
+<span class="i2"><i>His round red face had the homeliest of features,</i></span><br />
+<span class="i3"><i>He was fat and forty and bald.</i>"</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<p>It had been funny the first time I had read it, which was not
+more than a week ago, but for some reason right that minute it
+was anything in the world else. I was gritting my teeth and
+wondering who had done it, and who had stolen <i>The Hoosier
+Schoolmaster</i>. There wasn't a one of the gang that <i>could</i> have
+done it, 'cause we had all been together all afternoon; and at
+the cave all the rest of the gang had gone to their different
+homes.</p>
+
+<p>"Who in the world wrote it and put it there?" I said, noticing
+that the printing was very large and had been put on with black
+crayola, the kind we used in school.</p>
+
+<p>"There's only one other person in the world who knows I wrote
+that poem," Poetry said, "and that's Shorty Long."</p>
+
+<p>"Shorty Long!" I said, remembering the newest boy who had moved
+into our neighborhood and was almost as fat as Poetry and who had
+been the cause of most of our trouble with our new teacher and
+had had two or three fights with me and had licked the stuffins
+out of me once, and I had licked the stuffins out of him once
+also, even worse than he had me, almost.</p>
+
+<p>"How'd he find it out?" I said.</p>
+
+<p>"Dragonfly told him," and also I remembered right that minute
+that Dragonfly and Shorty Long had been kinda chummy last week<!-- Page 35 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span>
+and we had all worried for fear there was maybe going to be
+trouble in our own gang which there'd never been before, and all
+on account of the new fat guy who had moved into our neighborhood
+and had started coming to our school.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you going to take a picture of it?" I said to Poetry, and he
+said, "I certainly am; I'm going to have the evidence and then I
+can prove to anybody that doesn't believe it, that somebody
+actually put it here."</p>
+
+<p>"Yeah," I said, "but everybody knows <i>you</i> wrote the poem."</p>
+
+<p>Poetry lowered his camera, and just that minute I saw something
+else that made me stare and in fact startled me so that for a
+jiffy I was almost as much excited as I had been when the fierce
+old mad old mother bear had been trying to kill Little Jim right
+at that very place where we were about a year and a half ago.</p>
+
+<p>"Hey! Look!" I said, "Mr. Black's been here himself!"</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. <i>Black</i>!" Poetry said in almost a half scream.... And right
+away both of us were looking down in the snow around the beech
+tree, and around the snow man, and sure enough there were horse's
+tracks, the kind of tracks that showed that the horse had shoes
+on. And even while I was scared and wondering "What on earth!"
+there popped into my red head the crazy superstition that if you
+found a horseshoe and put it up over the door of your house or
+one of the rooms of your house, you would have good luck....</p>
+
+<p>"I'll bet Mr. Black took the book, and wrote the poem and put it
+here."</p>
+
+<p>"He wouldn't," I said, but was afraid he might have.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm going to take a picture anyway," Poetry said, and stepped
+back and took one, and then real quick, took another, and then he
+took the yellow sheet of paper with the poem on it and folded it
+up and put it in his coat pocket, and with our faces and minds
+worried we started in fiercely knocking the living daylights out
+of that snow man. The first thing we did was to pull off the red
+nose, and pull out the corn-cob pipe, and knock the round head
+off and watch it go ker-swish onto the ground and break in
+pieces, then we pulled the sticks out of his stomach, kicked him
+in the same place, and in a jiffy had him looking like nothing.</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 36 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span>We felt pretty mixed up in our minds, I can tell you.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you suppose Mr. Black did that?" I said.</p>
+
+<p>"He wouldn't," Poetry said, "but if he rode his horse down here
+and saw it, he'll certainly think we're a bunch of heathen."</p>
+
+<p>"We aren't, though&mdash;are we?" I said to Poetry, and for some
+reason I was remembering that Little Jim had acted like maybe we
+ought not make <i>fun</i> of our teacher just 'cause he had hair only
+all around his head and not on top, and couldn't help it. For
+some reason, it didn't seem very funny, right that minute, and it
+seemed like Little Jim was right.</p>
+
+<p>"What about <i>The Hoosier Schoolmaster</i>?" Poetry said to me, as we
+dragged our discouraged sleds up Bumblebee hill. "What'll we tell
+your mother? And what'll <i>she</i> tell Mrs. Mansfield?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know," Poetry said, and his voice sounded more worried
+than I'd heard it in a long time.</p>
+
+<p>The first thing Mom said to us when we got to our house was, "Mr.
+Black was here twice this afternoon."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Twice?</i>" I said. "What for? What did he want?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh he was just visiting around, getting acquainted with the
+parents of the boys. Such a beautiful brown saddle horse," Mom
+said. "And he was so polite."</p>
+
+<p>"The horse?" Poetry said, and maybe shouldn't have, but Mom
+ignored his remark and said, "He took a picture of our house and
+barn and tried to get one of Mixy cat, but Mixy was scared of the
+horse, I guess, and ran like a frightened rabbit."</p>
+
+<p>"Was he actually taking pictures?" Poetry asked with a worried
+voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, and he wanted to get one of you boys playing on Bumblebee
+hill.... But you were all gone, he said, but he found the book
+you left there, so he brought it back&mdash;you know, the one Mrs.
+Mansfield wanted."</p>
+
+<p>"What book?" I said, pretending to be surprised. "Did Mrs.
+Mansfield want a book?"</p>
+
+<p>And Mom who was standing at our back door bareheaded, and
+shouldn't have been, on account of she might catch cold, said,
+"Yes, she phoned here for <i>The Hoosier Schoolmaster</i>, while Mr.
+Black was here,<!-- Page 37 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> but I knew <i>your</i> mother had one, Poetry, so I
+told her to call <i>there</i>."</p>
+
+<p>Poetry and I were looking at each other, wondering "What on
+earth?" Then Mom said, "Mr. Black thought maybe you boys had been
+reading it or something and had forgotten it when you left."</p>
+
+<p>"D-d-d-did he&mdash;did he&mdash;?" Poetry began, but stuttered so much he
+had to stop and start again, and said, "Did he say <i>where</i> he
+found it? I mean was it&mdash;that is, where did he <i>find</i> it?"</p>
+
+<p>"He didn't say," Mom said, "but he said since he was going on
+over to Mrs. Mansfield's anyway, he'd take it over for me, so you
+won't have to take it over, Bill," Mom finished.</p>
+
+<p>Well, that was that.... Poetry and I sighed to each other, and he
+said, "Did you tell my mother?"</p>
+
+<p>"I've just called her," Mom said, "and you're to come on home
+right away to get the chores done early.... It's early to bed for
+all of us on Saturday night, you know."</p>
+
+<p>Poetry must have felt pretty bad, just like I did, but he managed
+to say to Mom politely, "Thank you, Mrs. Collins. I'll hurry
+right on home."</p>
+
+<p>I walked out to the gate with him, and for a jiffy we just stood
+and looked at each other, both of us with worried looks on our
+faces.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you suppose he really took a picture of himself with that
+poem on his stomach?" Poetry asked. "And if he did, <i>who</i> on
+earth put it there?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know," I said, "but what would he want with pictures of
+all of us and our parents?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sure I don't know&mdash;" Poetry said, with a worried voice.</p>
+
+<p>Just that minute Pop called from the barn and said, "BILL, HURRY
+UP AND GATHER THE EGGS! IT'LL BE TOO DARK TO SEE IN THE BARN AS
+SOON AS THE SUN GOES DOWN! POETRY, BE SURE TO COME AGAIN SOME
+TIME," which was Pop's way of telling Poetry to step on the gas
+and get going home right now, which Poetry did, and I went back
+to the house and got the egg basket to start to gather the eggs,
+wondering what would happen next.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<!-- Page 38 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span>
+<h2><a name="Chapter_6" id="Chapter_6"></a>6</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Just as I started to open our kitchen door and go out to the
+barn, Mom came from the other room where she'd been talking on
+the phone and said, "Little Jim's mother is coming down with the
+flu, and won't be able to go to church tomorrow, so we're to pick
+up Little Jim and also stop for Tom Till and take him to church
+with <i>us</i>.... We'll have to get up a little earlier tomorrow
+morning, so you get the chores done quick so we can get supper
+over and to bed nice and early," which I thought was a good idea.
+I was already tired all of a sudden, almost too tired to gather
+the eggs.</p>
+
+<p>Tomorrow, though, would be a fine day. It'd be fun stopping at
+Little Jim's and Tom Till's houses and take them to church with
+us.</p>
+
+<p>Little Jim had something on his mind that was bothering him,
+though, and I wondered what it was. Also, I wondered who was
+coming to our house for dinner tomorrow. Maybe it would be Little
+Jim, as <i>well</i> as somebody else, if his mom was going to have the
+flu.</p>
+
+<p>Pretty soon I was up in our haymow all by myself carrying the egg
+basket around to the different places where different ones of our
+old hens laid their eggs. Old Bent-comb still laid her daily egg
+up in a corner of the mow so I climbed away up over a big stack
+of sweet-smelling hay to where I knew the nest was. I wasn't
+feeling very good inside on account of things hadn't gone right
+during the day, and yet I couldn't tell what was wrong, except
+maybe it was just me. When I got to old Bent-comb's nest, sure
+enough there were two eggs in it&mdash;one was the pretty white egg
+Bent-comb herself had laid that day and the other was an
+artificial glass egg which we kept in the nest all the time just
+to encourage any hen that might see it, to stop and lay an egg
+there herself, just as if maybe there had been another hen who
+had thought it was a good place to lay an egg. It was easy to
+fool old Bent-comb, I thought.</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 39 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span>While I was getting ready to go back to the ladder and go down it
+to the main floor of the barn, my eyes climbed up Pop's brand new
+ladder which goes up to the cupola at the very peak of the roof
+of our very high barn. It certainly was a very nice light ladder,
+and next summer it would be easy for me to carry it to one cherry
+tree after another in our orchard when I helped pick cherries for
+Mom. It was such a light ladder, even Little Jim could carry
+it.... While I was standing looking up and thinking about wishing
+spring would hurry up and come, I all of a sudden wanted to climb
+up the ladder and look out the windows of the cupola and see what
+I could see in the different directions around the Sugar Creek
+territory. Also, I wondered if Snow-white, my favorite pigeon,
+and her husband had decided to have their nest in the cupola
+again this year, and if there were maybe any eggs or maybe a
+couple of baby pigeons, although parent pigeons hardly ever
+decided to raise any baby pigeons in the winter-time. If there
+was anything I liked to look at more than anything else, it was
+baby birds in a nest. Their fuzz always reminded me of Big Jim's
+fuzzy mustache, he being the only one of the Sugar Creek Gang to
+begin to have any.</p>
+
+<p>In a jiffy I was on my way and in another jiffy I was there,
+standing on the second from the top rung of the ladder. It was
+nice and light up there with the sun still shining in, although
+pretty soon it would go down. In one direction I could see
+Poetry's house, and their big maple tree right close beside it in
+the back yard, under which in the summer-time he always pitched
+his tent and sometimes he would invite me to stay all night with
+him; in another direction, and far away across our cornfield, was
+Dragonfly's house which had an orchard right close by it, where
+in the fall of the year we could all have all the apples we
+wanted, if we wanted them; Big Jim and Circus lived right across
+the road from each other, but I couldn't see either one of their
+houses, or Little Tom's on account of Little Tom lived across the
+bridge on the other side of Sugar Creek.... I could see our red
+brick schoolhouse, away on past Dragonfly's house, though. But
+when I looked at it, instead of feeling kinda happy inside like I
+nearly always did when we had our pretty lady other teacher for a
+teacher, I felt kinda saddish. There was the big maple<!-- Page 40 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> tree
+which I knew was right close beside a tall iron pump, near which
+we had built a snow fort; and behind that was the woodshed where
+we'd been locked in by our new man teacher and which you know
+about if you've read <i>One Stormy Day at Sugar Creek</i>, and behind
+the woodshed was the great big schoolyard where we played
+baseball and blindman's buff and other games in the fall and
+spring, and where we play fox-and-goose in the winter. For a few
+minutes I forgot I was supposed to be gathering eggs, and was
+doing what Pop is always accusing me of doing, <ins class="TNsilent" title="Transcriber's note: original has period outside of quotes."><a name="dreaming" id="dreaming"></a>which is "dreaming."</ins>
+I was thinking about what had happened that
+afternoon, such as the trip we'd taken through the cave to Old
+Man Paddler's cabin, and the prayer he'd made for all of us, and
+especially for Old Hook-nosed John Till, which Little Tom had
+heard, and it had made him cry and want to go home. Poor Little
+Tom, I thought. What if I had had a pop like his, instead of the
+kinda wonderful pop I had, who made it easy for Mom to be happy,
+which is why maybe Mom was always singing around our kitchen,
+even when she was tired, and also why, whenever Pop came into our
+house after being gone awhile, Mom would look up quick from
+whatever she was doing and give him a nice look, and sometimes
+they'd be awful glad to see each other, and Pop would give her a
+great big hug like pops are supposed to do to moms. Poor Little
+Tom's mom, I thought.</p>
+
+<p>Well, while I was still not thinking about finishing gathering
+the eggs, I looked in the last direction I hadn't looked yet,
+which was toward our house and over the top of the spreading
+branches of the plum tree and over the top of our gate which
+Dragonfly had had his ride on, and on down toward Bumblebee hill
+where we'd coasted and had fun and made the snow man of Mr.
+Black, but say! right that second, I saw something moving&mdash;in
+fact, it was somebody's cap moving along just below the crest of
+the hill, but all I could see was the bobbing-up-and-down cap,
+and right away I knew whose cap it was&mdash;it was the bright red cap
+of the new tough guy in our neighborhood whose name was Shorty
+Long, and right away I knew who it was that had written Poetry's
+poetry and put it on the sticks into Mr. Black's stomach....</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 41 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span>I had a queer, and also an angry feeling inside me, 'cause I just
+<i>knew</i> Mr. Black had seen the poem, and since it had been signed
+"The Sugar Creek Gang," we would all be in for still more trouble
+Monday morning in school.</p>
+
+<p>While I was up there in that cupola, I made up my mind to one
+thing, and that was that no matter how much we didn't like our
+teacher, and no matter what ideas Poetry and I had once had in
+our minds to find out whether a board on the top of the
+schoolhouse chimney would smoke out a teacher, I, Bill Collins
+wasn't going to vote "Yes" if the gang put it to a vote to decide
+whether to do it or not.... No sir, not me.</p>
+
+<p>Right that second, I heard my pop calling me from away down on
+the main floor of the barn, "Better come on down and finish your
+chores, Bill," which I had, and which I started to do, climbing
+backwards down the new ladder very carefully to the haymow floor
+and then down the other ladder to the main floor of the barn.</p>
+
+<p>Pop had just finished milking our one milk cow, and the big
+three-gallon milk pail was full clear to the top and there was
+inch-high creamy-yellow foam above the top of the pail. Mixy, our
+old black and white cat, was mewing and mewing and walking all
+around Pop's legs and looking up and mewing and rubbing her sides
+against his boots and also running over toward the little milk
+pan over by a corner of the barn floor, as if to say to Pop, "For
+goodness sake, I may be a mere cat, but does that give you any
+right <ins class="TNsilent" title="Transcriber's note: original reads 'to make we wait'"><a name="mesupper" id="mesupper"></a>to make me wait</ins> for my supper?"</p>
+
+<p>Anyway I was reminded that I was hungry myself, and pretty soon
+we'd all be in our house, sitting around our table eating
+raw-fried potatoes and reddish slices of fried ham, and other
+things....</p>
+
+<p>"I'll take the milk on up to the house, Bill," Pop said, and also
+said, "You follow me up to the back porch, Mixy&mdash;you can't have
+<i>fresh</i> milk tonight&mdash;and also, only a little raw meat, because
+there are absolutely too many mice around this barn. Any ordinary
+hungry cat ought to catch at least one mouse a day, Mixy, and if
+you <i>don't</i> catch them, we'll have to make you hungry, so you
+will. Understand?" I looked at Pop's big reddish-blackish
+eyebrows and he was<!-- Page 42 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> frowning at Mixy, although I knew he liked
+her a lot, but didn't like mice very well.</p>
+
+<p>I finished gathering the eggs that were in the barn and then went
+to the hen house where I knew there would be some more eggs, and
+then took my basket of maybe four dozen eggs toward the house.</p>
+
+<p>Mixy was there on the back porch, I noticed, lapping away at her
+milk like a house afire. I wiped off my boots carefully like I'd
+been trained to do whether I was at home or in somebody else's
+house, pushed open the door to our kitchen and went in, expecting
+to see Mom, or Pop, or both of them there, but there wasn't
+anybody there, so I sat the egg basket down on Mom's work table,
+and started into the front room, where I thought they'd maybe be.
+All of a sudden I heard Mom saying something in a tearful voice,
+and I stopped cold&mdash;wondering what I'd maybe done and shouldn't
+have, and if Mom was telling Pop about it, so I started to
+listen&mdash;and then was half afraid to, so I started to open the
+door and go out when I heard Pop say something in a low voice,
+and it was, "No, Mother, whatever it is, I know one thing&mdash;our
+Bill will tell the truth. He'd tell the truth right now if I
+asked him, but I'm not going to. I'm going to wait and see what
+happens, and see if he'll tell me himself."</p>
+
+<p>I strained my ears hard to hear what Mom would answer, and this
+is what she said, "All right, Theodore, I'll be patient; but just
+the same, I'm worried."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you worry one little tiny bit, Mother," Pop said. "A boy's
+heart is like a garden. If you <ins class="TNsilent" title="Transcriber's note: original has duplicate 'and'"><a name="plantgood" id="plantgood"></a>plant good seed in it, and
+cultivate</ins> and plow it and water it with love, he'll come out all
+right," which made me like my pop a lot, only I didn't have time
+to think about it 'cause right that very second almost, I heard
+Mom say in a worried voice, "Yes, dear, but <i>weeds</i> grow in a
+garden without anyone's planting them," which made me feel all
+saddish inside, and for some reason I could see our own garden
+which every spring and summer had all kinds of weeds&mdash;ragweeds,
+smartweeds, and big ugly Jimson-weeds, and lots of other kinds.
+Right that second, I remembered something my pop had said to me
+once last summer which was, "Say, Bill, do you know how to keep
+the big weeds out of our garden,<!-- Page 43 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> without having to pull up or
+cut out even one of them?" and when I said, "No, how, Pop?" he
+said, "Just kill all of them while they are <i>little</i>."</p>
+
+<p>Well, I didn't want Mom or Pop to know I'd heard them talking
+about me, so I sneaked out the back door very carefully and
+started to talking in a friendly voice to Mixy, saying to her,
+"Listen, Mixy, do you know how to keep all the great big mice out
+of our barn? You just catch all the mice while they're
+little&mdash;it's as easy as pie."</p>
+
+<p>Mixy looked up from her empty milk pan and mewed and looked down
+at her pan again, and looked up at me again and mewed again, and
+then walked over to me and rubbed her sides against my boots like
+she liked me a lot. For some reason, I thought Mixy was a very
+nice cat right that minute, so I said to her, "I'm awful glad you
+like me, Mixy, even if nobody else around this place does."</p>
+
+<p>Pretty soon, Pop and I were out doing the rest of the chores
+while Mom was getting supper. Almost right away, it began to get
+dark, and we went in to supper. "Wash your hands and go get
+Charlotte Ann," Mom said to me. "I think she's awake now."</p>
+
+<p>Charlotte Ann, you know, is my baby sister, and even though she
+is a girl, is a pretty swell baby; in fact, she's wonderful.</p>
+
+<p>In a few minutes Pop and Mom and Charlotte Ann and I were all
+sitting around our kitchen table in the lamp light. We had two
+kerosene lamps lit, one of them behind me on the high
+mantel-shelf above my head, and the other on another mantel-shelf
+above the water pail in the corner.</p>
+
+<p>We always bowed our heads at our house before every meal,
+different ones of us asking the blessing, whichever one of us Pop
+called on. When I was little I'd said a little poem prayer, but
+didn't do it any more on account of Pop thought I was too big,
+and since I was an actual Christian, in spite of having
+Jimson-weeds in my heart, I always prayed whenever Pop told me
+to, only I hoped that he wouldn't ask me to tonight. Pop looked
+around the table at all of us, and Mom helped Charlotte Ann fold
+her hands, which she didn't want to do, but kept wiggling and
+squirming and reaching for things on the table, which were too
+far away, "Well, let's see&mdash;whom shall we ask to pray, tonight?
+ah&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 44 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span>Pop's "ah&mdash;" was cut short by the telephone ringing our ring,
+which meant that one of us had to answer the phone. "I'll get
+it," I said, "maybe it's one of the gang&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I'll get it," Mom said, "I'm expecting a call&mdash;I say, I'LL GET
+IT!" Mom raised her voice on account of I was already out of my
+chair and half way to the living room door.</p>
+
+<p>When Mom came back a minute later, she was smiling like she'd had
+some wonderful news, and it was, "It was Mrs. Long. <i>Mr.</i> Long
+won't be home tomorrow, so she can go to church with us. Isn't
+that wonderful? It's an answer to prayer."</p>
+
+<p>I spoke up then and said, "How about Shorty? Is he going too?"</p>
+
+<p>I don't know what there was in my voice that shouldn't have been,
+when I asked that question, but Mom said in an astonished tone of
+voice, "Why, Bill Collins! The very idea! Don't you <i>want</i> him to
+go to church and Sunday School and learn something about being a
+Christian? Do you want him to grow up to be a heathen? What's the
+matter with you?"</p>
+
+<p>I gulped. Mom had read my thoughts like an open school book. "Of
+course," I said, "he ought to go to church, but&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"But <i>what</i>?" Mom said.</p>
+
+<p>"He's awful mean to the gang," I said, "He&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps we'd better ask the blessing now," Pop said, in a kind
+voice, and right away we bowed our heads, while Pop prayed a
+short prayer, which ended something like this, "... and bless our
+minister tomorrow. Put into his heart the things he ought to say
+that will do us all the most good.... Make his sermon like a plow
+and hoe and rake that will make the gardens of our hearts what
+they all ought to be.... Bless Shorty Long and his mother and
+father, and the Till family, all of which we ask in Jesus' name.
+Amen."</p>
+
+<p>For some reason, when Pop finished, I seemed to feel like maybe I
+didn't actually <i>hate</i> our new teacher, not very much anyway, and
+I thought maybe Shorty Long, even if he was a terribly tough boy,
+would be better if he had somebody pull some of the weeds out of
+him....</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 45 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span>After supper, we all took our regular Saturday night baths and
+went to bed, and the next thing we knew it was a wonderful
+morning, with the sun shining on the snow and with sleigh bells
+jingling on people's horses, on account of some of our neighbors
+lived on roads where the road-conditioner hadn't been through
+yet, and couldn't use their cars and so had to use sleds instead.
+It was going to be a wonderful day all day, I thought, and was
+glad I was alive.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<!-- Page 46 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span>
+<h2><a name="Chapter_7" id="Chapter_7"></a>7</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Just before nine o'clock, we all started in our car toward Little
+Jim's house, which was closer than Tom Till's or Shorty Long's.
+Little Jim came tumbling out his back door, his short legs
+carrying him fast out to the road. He got in and I was certainly
+tickled to see him. Mom and Pop and Charlotte Ann were in the
+front seat, so Charlotte Ann would be closer to our car heater
+and keep warm, on account of it was a cold morning.</p>
+
+<p>"How is your mother this morning?" my mom asked Little Jim about
+his mom, and Little Jim piped up in his mouse-like voice and
+said, "She's better than last night. Pop and I took breakfast to
+her in bed," which is what <i>my</i> pop does to <i>my</i> mom when <i>she</i>
+doesn't feel well. In fact, sometimes when Pop gets up extra
+early before Mom does, he sneaks out into our kitchen quietly and
+makes coffee and carries a cupful in and surprises Mom even when
+she is perfectly well, which Pop says is maybe one reason why Mom
+keeps on liking him so well....</p>
+
+<p>Our car turned north on the road that leads to Tom's house,
+crossed the snow-covered Sugar Creek bridge, and went on. While
+we were on the bridge, Little Jim said to me, "Look, there's an
+<i>oak</i> tree that still has its leaves on, and'll maybe keep 'em on
+all winter."</p>
+
+<p>Then we came to Tom's weathered, old-looking house, and barn, and
+Pop pulled up at the side of the road in front of their mail box
+which said on it, "John Till," and honked the horn for Tom to
+come out and get in.</p>
+
+<p>There was a new path which maybe Tom had scooped for his mom so
+she could get the mail. In a minute now, I thought, their side
+door would open and Little Tom would come zipping out, with his
+kinda oldish-looking coat on and he would come crunch, crunch,<!-- Page 47 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span>
+crunch through the snow path to where we were. Tom didn't come
+right away, though. Pop honked again, so Tom would be sure to
+hear, then when he still didn't come, and when there wasn't any
+curtain moving at their window to let us know anybody was home
+and that Tom would be here in a minute, Mom said to me, "Bill,
+you better run in and tell him we're here. We have to stop at
+Long's yet, and we don't want to be late."</p>
+
+<p>Almost in a second I was opening the door and getting out. Little
+Jim tumbled out right after me, saying, "I'll go with you," and
+since neither his mom nor his pop were there to tell him not to,
+both of us went squishing up the snow path toward their side
+door. There had been a little wind during the night, and some
+snow had drifted into the path, and I was glad we had on our
+boots, so our good Sunday shoes wouldn't get wet and spoil their
+shine.</p>
+
+<p>I knocked at Tom's door, and waited and nobody answered, and
+Little Jim and I listened to see what we could hear, but all I
+could hear was somebody moving around inside like whoever it was
+was in a hurry&mdash;like maybe there had been some things on the
+floor and they were in a hurry to straighten up the room or the
+house on account of company was coming.</p>
+
+<p>Then I heard a door shutting somewhere in the house, and I knew
+it was the door between their living-room and kitchen, then I
+heard footsteps coming toward our door, and I wondered what was
+wrong. I was sure something was, but didn't know what.</p>
+
+<p>The next thing I knew the door opened in front of me and there
+stood Little red-haired Tom, with his hair mussed up, and his old
+clothes on, and his eyes were kinda reddish, and it looked like
+he had been crying. "I'm sorry," he said, "but I can't go.
+Mother's got the flu, and I have to take care of her, and keep
+the fires going."</p>
+
+<p>"Can't your daddy do that?" Little Jim asked in a disappointed
+voice, and Little Tom swallowed hard like there was a tear in his
+throat and said, "Daddy's not home again. He&mdash;he's&mdash;not home,"
+Tom finished, and I knew what he meant, but he was ashamed to say
+it, and it probably was that his pop had got drunk again and was
+maybe right that very minute in the Sugar Creek jail.</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 48 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span>"Where's Bob?" Little Jim wanted to know, and Tom stood there in
+the half-open kitchen door and said, "He got up early and went
+over to Shorty Long's; they're going to hunt pigeons."</p>
+
+<p>I knew what that meant, 'cause sometimes some of the farmers in
+our neighborhood had too many pigeons, and the Sugar Creek Gang
+would go to their different barns and shut all the doors and
+windows quick and help catch the pigeons for them, and you could
+get sometimes fifteen cents apiece for them if you sold them.</p>
+
+<p>If Shorty Long and Bob had gone hunting pigeons together, it
+meant that Shorty Long wouldn't want to go to Sunday School with
+us when we stopped at their house after awhile to get his mother
+to take her to church with us. It also meant that Shorty and Bob
+had maybe decided to like each other, since neither one of them
+liked the Sugar Creek Gang.</p>
+
+<p>Little Tom didn't know what I'd been thinking, so he piped up and
+said to Little Jim, "I'm sorry I can't go, but I can't. You tell
+Teacher I'll try to come next week, and tell her I studied my
+Sunday School lesson, and&mdash;wait a minute!" Tom turned and,
+leaving the door open, hurried back inside the house, opened the
+door to their living-room and went in, like he had gone after
+something. He shut the door after him real quick, like he was
+trying to keep the cold air in the kitchen from getting into that
+other room.</p>
+
+<p>In that split minute while the door was open, though, I saw that
+they had a big double bed in their living-room and that Tom's
+mother was in it, all covered up, and that there was a small
+table beside her bed with a glass half full of water, but that
+the room looked kinda topsyturvy like the housekeeping was being
+done by a boy instead of a mother.</p>
+
+<p>A second later Tom was out again, shutting the door behind him,
+and coming right straight to Little Jim and me, and holding out
+his hand and saying, "Here&mdash;here's my offering." He handed me a
+small offering envelope like the ones we used in our church, and
+without trying to, I noticed it had two very small coins in it,
+and I guessed they were dimes, which maybe Tom himself had saved
+from catching pigeons.</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 49 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span>Just that second, Tom's mother coughed, a kinda saddish, sickish
+cough, that sounded like maybe she was a lot sicker than she
+ought to be, and I knew that if my mom was as sick as that Pop
+would have a doctor out to see her right away, so I said, "Has
+the doctor been here?"</p>
+
+<p>Little Tom frowned and said, "Nope, we can't&mdash;Nope, I guess Mom
+will get well. She always does."</p>
+
+<p>Just that second our car honked, and I knew the folks were
+wondering what on earth was keeping us so long. There didn't seem
+to be anything we could do, but I knew somebody ought to do
+something for Tom's mom, 'cause that cough sounded dangerous.
+Why, she might even get pneumonia, I thought; she might even have
+it now.</p>
+
+<p>As quick as Little Jim and I reached the car, and had climbed
+into the back seat, we told Mom and Pop. While I was excitedly
+telling them, I noticed that the muscles in Pop's jaws were
+working and I knew he was thinking, and also was half angry
+inside because anybody had to have such a mean husband as <ins class="TNsilent" title="Transcriber's note: original reads 'old Hook-nose'"><a name="OldHook" id="OldHook"></a>Old Hook-nosed</ins> John Till.</p>
+
+<p>"He's a slave," Pop said, thinking of Tom's pop, and Mom said,
+with a very determined voice, "Theodore, you take the boys on to
+Sunday School. Be sure to stop for Mrs. Long. Here, Bill, you
+hold Charlotte Ann. If Mrs. Till has the flu, I can't keep
+Charlotte Ann here with me."</p>
+
+<p>Pop started to say something, but Mom had already made up her
+mind, and it was too late. Mom was already half way out of the
+car when she said, "You can come on back and get me in time for
+church,&mdash;no, wait a minute. I want Tom to go to Sunday School
+too&mdash;I'll send him right out." Mom was out of the car and going
+up the snow path toward the oldish house, when Little Jim piped
+up and said, "The doctor's going to stop at our house at ten
+o'clock to see Mother. I'll bet he'd stop to see Tom's mother too
+if anybody asked him to."</p>
+
+<p>"They can't afford a doctor," I said, remembering what Tom had
+tried to say a few minutes ago, but I hadn't any more than got
+the words out of my mouth than Pop spoke up almost fiercely, like
+he was angry at somebody or something, and this is what he said,<!-- Page 50 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span>
+"But <i>I</i> can. If Tom's mother needs a doctor, she's going to have
+one," and with that Pop shoved open the car door at his left
+side, saying, "You boys wait here a minute. I'll be right back."
+He slammed the door and circled the car and went swishing with
+very determined steps through that snow path to Tom's side door,
+and disappeared inside, leaving Little Jim and Charlotte Ann and
+me in the car. The motor was running and the heater fan was
+circulating warm air all over the car, so we wouldn't get cold.</p>
+
+<p>I still had Little Tom's offering envelope in my hand, and it
+reminded me of how maybe Tom had earned the money, and so I said
+to Little Jim, "I hope Shorty Long and Bob don't stop at our
+barn, 'cause we don't have too many pigeons. And besides, there's
+a nest up in our cupola, with some baby pigeons in it, and if
+they catch the mother and father the babies will freeze or maybe
+starve to death."</p>
+
+<p>A jiffy later, Pop came out to the car, bringing Tom with him,
+and all of us except Mom drove on toward Shorty Long's house to
+get Shorty's mother.</p>
+
+<p>Pretty soon, fifteen minutes later, maybe, we all pulled up in
+our car in front of the little white church on top of the hill
+right across from a two-room brick schoolhouse where the Sugar
+Creek Literary Society met once a month on Wednesday nights. All
+of us except Pop got out to go inside the church, Shorty Long's
+mother carrying Charlotte Ann and was going to take care of her
+until Pop got back.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm going to the parsonage to call the doctor to stop at your
+house," Pop said to Tom, "and I'm taking a radio to your mother,
+so if she feels able, she can listen to a Gospel program."</p>
+
+<p>I looked quick at Little Tom, knowing he might feel ashamed to be
+reminded that his folks couldn't afford a doctor, and also that
+they didn't have any radio, and knowing it was on account of his
+pop; but Tom was looking in another direction, and was swallowing
+hard like he had taken too big a bite of something and hadn't
+chewed it long enough but was trying to swallow it. Then he
+whirled around real quick, and hurried up the cement steps to the
+church's door, with Little Jim and me right after him.</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 51 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span>Just inside the vestibule, fastened to the wall, was what is
+called "The Minister's Question Box," with a little slit in the
+top for people to put in Bible questions they wanted explained,
+or also for any extra offering people wanted the minister to
+have.... Right that second I saw Little Jim pull one of his small
+hands out of his pocket and slip a folded piece of paper into the
+box, kinda <ins class="TNsilent" title="Transcriber's note: original reads 'bashful like'"><a name="bashful" id="bashful"></a>bashful-like</ins>, then he and all of us went on in to
+where our classes would be sitting.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as Sunday School was over and church started, I noticed
+Mr. Black come in. I was surprised to see him come to church, but
+I knew our minister would preach a good sermon like he always
+does, and it wouldn't hurt even a school teacher to hear a good
+sermon maybe once a week.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<!-- Page 52 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span>
+<h2><a name="Chapter_8" id="Chapter_8"></a>8</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Two or three times while our minister was preaching a very
+interesting sermon which a boy could understand, my thoughts flew
+away like they were birds with wings, and for quite a while I
+didn't even know I was in church on account of I was far away in
+my thoughts. As you maybe know, our minister was Sylvia's father,
+and Sylvia was a very polite, kinda pretty girl with a good
+singing voice and always had her hair looking very neat and
+pretty with a ribbon or something on it like girls wear in their
+hair, and she was Big Jim's favorite girl. I was sitting beside
+Big Jim, and Dragonfly was beside me, with the rest of the Sugar
+Creek Gang in different places in the church, our parents not
+letting us all sit together if they could help it, on account of
+the minister got more attention himself if we sat in different
+places&mdash;not that any of us tried to be mischievous in church&mdash;in
+fact, we always had to try not to be.</p>
+
+<p>Right that second Sylvia's kind-voiced pop was talking about how
+wonderful it was, when you knew you had done something wrong, and
+were sorry for it, you could pray right straight to the Lord
+Himself <ins class="TNsilent" title="Transcriber's note: original reads 'and confess you sins'"><a name="yoursins" id="yoursins"></a>and confess your sins</ins> right straight to Him, and He would
+make your heart clean.... "The blood of Jesus Christ, the Son of
+God, will cleanse you from all sin, <i>right that very minute</i>,"
+Sylvia's pop said, and it seemed like a wonderful thing to
+believe, and made me feel good all inside of me....</p>
+
+<p>And then almost right away, he went on to say, quoting another
+verse from the Bible, "Come now, let us reason together, saith
+the Lord, though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white
+as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool."
+I had learned that verse by heart once in a summer Bible school.
+And all of a sudden, my thoughts were flying away, and I was
+remembering Poetry's pet lamb, which you know about if you've
+read <i>The Sugar Creek Gang in School</i>,<!-- Page 53 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> whose wool was NOT white
+one morning when the lamb fell down in a mud puddle, and I was
+remembering Poetry's funny poetry which was,</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<span class="i2">"<i>Poetry had a little lamb,</i></span><br />
+<span class="i2"><i>Its fleece a dirty black,</i></span><br />
+<span class="i2"><i>The only place its wool was white</i></span><br />
+<span class="i2"><i>Was high up on its back</i>"....</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<p>Also I was at that very minute reminded of another poem which I
+had seen yesterday, which was written on yellow paper and which
+had been pinned with a brown stick on the white stomach of a snow
+man.... That poem still didn't seem funny, and for some reason I
+decided I was going to try to be what is called a gentleman, and
+try to act like one in school, even if I didn't like my teacher.</p>
+
+<p>I didn't hear any more of Sylvia's pop's sermon for a while, on
+account of I happened to look out the church window which didn't
+have stained glass like some of the churches in town did, and I
+saw somebody's barn just on the other side of the little
+cemetery, and there were a lot of pigeons flying around over the
+barn, and in the sky, right away I was remembering Shorty Long
+and Big Bob Till, and wondering where they were, and what they
+were doing.</p>
+
+<p>I had a heavy feeling inside of me that they would maybe visit
+all of the barns of the Sugar Creek Gang's pops, and catch a lot
+of pigeons, and maybe they'd catch and kill the pretty brown and
+white pair of pigeons which had their nest in the cupola of our
+barn, and then what would happen to the <i>baby</i> pigeons?...</p>
+
+<p>Pop didn't come in to church at all on account of deciding to
+stay with Mom, but he was there in the car right afterward, and
+all of us including Little Jim and Tom Till and Mrs. Long and
+Charlotte Ann, shook hands with a lot of people and climbed into
+our car and drove away. Pop and all of us were talking and
+listening as our car went purring down the road. We were just
+stopping at Shorty Long's house to let Mrs. Long out when Little
+Jim said to me in a half whisper, "Sylvia's pop certainly
+preached a good sermon. I <i>thought</i> that was why some houses
+didn't have as much snow on their roofs<!-- Page 54 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> as others, and why barns
+always have more snow than houses that people live in. It was a
+good sermon."</p>
+
+<p>"What?" I said to Little Jim, not remembering anything in the
+sermon about snow on people's houses or barns. Sylvia's pop must
+have said that when I was thinking about snowy white wool on
+Poetry's lamb&mdash;or else about a snow man standing at the bottom of
+Bumblebee hill....</p>
+
+<p>Pretty soon we came to Tom Till's house. Pop had already told us
+the doctor had been there, and Mrs. Till didn't have pneumonia,
+only a bad chest cold.</p>
+
+<p>Pop had gone to our house to get one of our battery radios so
+Mrs. Till could hear a good Christian program, and she was
+feeling a lot better. Pop also had told us that Bob had come home
+while Mom was taking care of Mrs. Till but he had gone away
+again. "Did he have any pigeons?" Little red-haired Tom asked,
+when Pop started to get out and go in with Tom and get Mom.</p>
+
+<p>"About a dozen," Pop told him. "He put them in the pigeon cage
+out in the woodshed."</p>
+
+<p>Right away I spoke up and said, "Were there any <i>white</i> ones?"
+remembering the beautiful white pigeon with pink eyes which had
+her nest up in the cupola of our barn, and whose big beautiful
+brown husband was so proud of her and always was cooing to her
+when they were on the roof of our barn and was always strutting
+around so very proud, with his neck all puffed out like he was
+very important.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know," Pop said, and I said, "Can I go and look, Tom?"
+and Tom said, "Sure, I'll go with you."</p>
+
+<p>"Let me hold Charlotte Ann," Little Jim said, he liking to hold
+babies on his small lap, anyway.</p>
+
+<p>Pop went in to get Mom, and Tom and I went into their woodshed to
+look through the chicken-yard wire cage at about fifteen very
+pretty pigeons.</p>
+
+<p>All of a sudden, while I was looking, I got a hot feeling all
+inside of me, 'cause right there in front of my eyes with the
+other different colored pigeons, was a beautiful albino one&mdash;the
+prettiest snow white one I ever saw with pretty pink eyes, and I
+knew right<!-- Page 55 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> away it was my favorite pigeon, old Snow-white
+herself, who had her nest in the cupola of our barn.</p>
+
+<p>"There's my pigeon!" I cried to Little Tom, and when he asked me
+which one and I told him, he said, "Are you sure?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm positive," I said. "See that little brown spot just below
+the left pink eye. I'm going to get her out, and take her home."</p>
+
+<p>Little Tom looked, and swallowed and got a very scared expression
+on his face, and started to say something, and then stopped.</p>
+
+<p>"'Smatter?" I said, and he said, "Nothing, only--"</p>
+
+<p>"Only what?" I asked him.</p>
+
+<p>"Only&mdash;only Bob's got a terrible temper, and he's already mad at
+me."</p>
+
+<p>Say, when I saw the scared expression on that little guy's face,
+I realized that if I let Snow-white out of that cage, Tom would
+maybe get a terrible beating-up-on from his big brother, and it'd
+be my fault. Just that minute, Pop and Mom came out of the side
+door of Tom's house, and it was time for us to go home. Mom was
+going to hurry with our own dinner, which had nearly all been
+cooked yesterday, and we were going to bring some nice chicken
+soup back in the car for Tom's mom's dinner, and also some
+chicken for Tom, himself.</p>
+
+<p>I still didn't know who was coming to our house for dinner, and
+whoever did come would have to wait awhile, on account of Mom
+would have to finish preparing it. "Who's coming to our house for
+dinner?" I asked, and Mom said, as we all started down the road
+toward Little Jim's house, "A certain very fine gentleman named
+Little Jim Foote, of the Sugar Creek Gang,"&mdash;and was I ever glad?
+But as the car glided down the white road, I kept thinking of my
+pretty Snow-white in Bob Till's cage, and I knew that Bob would
+maybe kill her along with all the other pigeons and sell them at
+the Sugar Creek Poultry Shop....</p>
+
+<p>Just that second, just as we were getting close to Little Jim
+Foote's house, Little Jim said, "Hey, Bill! Look! There goes a
+white pigeon, flying all by itself."</p>
+
+<p>I looked out the car window, and sure enough there was, a snow white pigeon, with its white wings flapping, and it was diving
+along<!-- Page 56 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> through the Sugar Creek sky right past our car and
+straight for Sugar Creek and in the direction of our house on the
+other side of the woods. All of a sudden I got a choked-up
+feeling in my throat, 'cause I just <i>knew</i> that was my very own
+Snow-white, and that Tom Till liked me so well he was going to
+run the risk of getting a terrible beating-up-on by his brother
+Bob, by opening their pigeon cage and letting Snow-white out so
+she could fly home.</p>
+
+<p>For some reason all of a sudden, I liked Little red-haired Tom
+Till so well that I wished I could do something very wonderful
+for him and his sick mother. I just kept my eyes strained on the
+sky above Sugar Creek and the woods where I'd seen Snow-white
+disappear, when I heard Little Jim say to me beside me, "Nearly
+all the snow's melted off our house now."</p>
+
+<p>I looked where he was looking, and he looked at me, and said
+surprised like, "'Smatter, Bill? You got tears in your eyes."</p>
+
+<p>"Have I?" I said, "I didn't know it."</p>
+
+<p>Tom Till really was a great little guy, I thought; one of my very
+best friends, and I remembered that before he had started coming
+to our Sunday School and had become a Christian, he had been one
+of the meanest boys I ever saw.</p>
+
+<p>I shook my head, to knock the tears out of my eyes, like Little
+Jim does when for some reason or other he gets tears in his, and
+doesn't want anybody to know it, so instead of using his
+handkerchief to wipe them out, he just gives his head a quick
+little jerk or two, and if you happen to be looking at him, <ins class="TNsilent" title="Transcriber's note: original reads 'you can see the ears fly'"><a name="tears" id="tears"></a>you can see the tears fly</ins> off in some direction or other.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, here we are!" Pop said, stopping at Little Jim's house for
+a minute. "You'll probably want your sled. You and Bill'll want
+to coast on Bumblebee hill after dinner," which we would, and
+which, after dinner, we did.</p>
+
+<p>One of the first things we did, though, even before we ate
+dinner, was to go upstairs to my room and both of us put on some
+old clothes to play in, Little Jim's mother having made him take
+some old clothes with him when we'd stopped at their house a
+little while ago.</p>
+
+<p>Right away, we were down stairs again, and were on the way
+through the kitchen to the back door to dash out to the barn to
+see<!-- Page 57 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> if Bob Till and Shorty Long had been there for sure, and
+also to see if Snow-white had come back and was on her nest up in
+the cupola, and also find out if her babies were cold or had
+frozen or something, on account of they didn't have enough
+feathers on them to keep them warm.</p>
+
+<p>Mom stopped me at the door, though, saying, "Bill, if you like,
+you may wash your hands and finish setting the table&mdash;put the
+bread on, and pour a glass of water for everyone, and milk for
+you and Jim."</p>
+
+<p>I was surprised at Mom calling Little Jim just Jim, but I sorta
+felt it was because she thought it made Little Jim sound bigger
+than he was, and Mom knew it would make him feel good, Mom being
+a very smart person and knew how to make boys like her.</p>
+
+<p>"Anything I can do?" Little Jim asked Mom politely. Mom let him
+pour the water into the glasses for me, and when we finished
+helping her, she said we could go out to the barn if we wanted
+to, but to be ready to come running as soon as she called us,
+which we probably would be on account of the oven was open right
+that minute and I could smell the baked chicken and knew that it
+was going to be a wonderful dinner.</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>"Hi, Mixy!" Little Jim said to our black and white cat which was
+lying in a cozy nest of her own at the bottom of the ladder which
+went up to our haymow. Little Jim stooped down to pet her, and
+she lifted her head without standing up and rubbed the sides of
+her pretty black and white face against his small hand, and mewed
+lazily, with half-closed blinking eyes.</p>
+
+<p>I could hardly wait till we got up in the haymow and could climb
+up Pop's new ladder to the cupola to see if Snow-white was home
+again, so I started to go up the first ladder first, noticing
+that there was dirt on the ladder that might have been made by
+somebody with boots or shoes on that had dirty snow on them, and
+I knew Bob Till and Shorty Long had been there. How many pigeons
+had they caught? I wondered, and felt an angry feeling inside of
+me, 'cause if there was anything the boys of the Sugar Creek Gang
+<i>didn't</i> do,<!-- Page 58 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> it was we didn't go into anybody's barn and catch
+pigeons without the farmer asking us to, or without us first
+asking the farmer if we could.</p>
+
+<p>Right that minute, while Little Jim was stroking Mixy, and I had
+my hand and one foot on the ladder ready to start up, I heard
+Pop's voice calling from somewhere up in the haymow, and saying
+to us. "Bill! Are you down there?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yeah," I yelled back up to him, "Little Jim and I are <i>both</i>
+here. We're coming up!" Pop's voice had a worried sound in it,
+and also sounded like maybe I had done something I shouldn't
+have, or else had maybe left something <i>un</i>done which I should
+have done.</p>
+
+<p>Then Pop's voice called down to us, and this time it sounded even
+more like I thought it had, when Pop said, "Where'd you put my
+new ladder? I can't find it anywhere."</p>
+
+<p>New ladder! I thought, and wondered, What on earth! Why just
+yesterday I'd used it to climb up to Snow-white's nest and had
+left it right there, with the top of it resting on the beam on
+the south side of the cupola.</p>
+
+<p>"It's right there!" I yelled up to Pop, "Right there in the
+center of the haymow, going up into the cupola."</p>
+
+<p>"It IS not!" Pop yelled back down to me, "and I've looked all
+over the haymow for it."</p>
+
+<p>I looked at Little Jim, and he was still stooped over stroking
+Mixy who was standing up now and stretching herself and reaching
+up with her front claws and doing some kind of monkey-business
+with Little Jim's trousers, taking hold, and letting go, and
+taking hold, and letting go, and acting very contented.</p>
+
+<p>Then I went lickety-sizzle up the ladder to the haymow and sure
+enough Pop was right! The pretty new ladder which Pop had bought
+and which I'd left right where I'd told Pop I'd left it, was
+gone.</p>
+
+<p>"I left it right here," I said to Pop, and then I had a queer
+feeling inside of me, as I thought about two boys whose names you
+already know and wondered if they had stolen it. There wasn't a
+sign of the ladder anywhere in the whole haymow, and I was
+looking in every direction.</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 59 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span>"'Smatter?" Little Jim asked, when his head appeared at the top
+of the ladder beside where I was standing, and he looked up at my
+and Pop's astonished faces.</p>
+
+<p>"Somebody's stolen our ladder," I said, "a brand new one Pop just
+bought last week."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Stolen</i> it?" Little Jim asked, and he had a puzzled expression
+on his face, and I knew what he was going to say before he said
+it, and it was, "Are you sure?" You know, Little Jim always had a
+hard time believing anybody was bad, or would do anything wrong,
+on account of he hardly ever did anything wrong himself, and,
+also, 'cause he liked everybody. So when he said, "Are you sure?"
+Pop said, "No, we're not sure, till Bill has tried first to
+remember if maybe he moved it somewhere else."</p>
+
+<p>I looked all around in a quick circle at the haymow, and I
+thought that if Bob Till and Shorty Long <i>had</i> been there, they
+might have hidden it under some hay just for meanness, so I got a
+pitch fork and started to jab it into the hay all around in
+different places in the haymow, and Pop looked in a tunnel under
+a long beam, and also we all looked down stairs and all around.
+Once I looked up into the cupola, and had a half-glad feeling in
+my heart when I saw Snow-white's white head peeking out over the
+edge of the beam she had her nest on, like she had just come
+back, and was wondering "What on earth" anybody wanted with a
+ladder anyway, she not needing any herself.</p>
+
+<p>Just then we heard Mom calling for dinner, and we had to go, all
+of us being very hungry. I knew Pop was having a hard time
+believing me, that I hadn't moved the ladder, on account of many
+a time Pop had missed something around the farm and later he or I
+or somebody had found it where I'd been using it or playing with
+it, in some place I'd forgotten all about.</p>
+
+<p>But there wasn't any use to look for it. It was gone, and not a
+one of us knew where&mdash;only I was absolutely sure that Bob Till
+and Shorty Long had hidden it somewhere. I told Mom and Pop what
+I thought had happened, and we all talked it over pretty
+excitedly at the dinner table.</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 60 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span>After dinner we all looked again, looking all around the barn,
+inside and out, and also jabbing forks and shovels in the biggest
+piles of snow around the barn, to see if maybe it had been
+covered up with snow, and still we couldn't find it. Pop was
+pretty mad, also, on account of about six of our pigeons were
+missing, and it looked like there had been somebody jumping and
+running all over the alfalfa hay which we fed to our cows. "How
+would YOU like to eat a piece of <i>pie</i> that some boy's dirty
+boots had walked all over?" Pop asked. That tickled Little Jim,
+and he giggled.</p>
+
+<p>Pretty soon Mom and Pop said Little Jim and I could go over to
+Poetry's house if we wanted to, and we could play in Poetry's
+nice new basement.</p>
+
+<p>It was while we were at Poetry's house that we saw the ladder,
+and you'd never guess in the world where it was, and most
+certainly you'd never guess in the world all the excitement we
+were going to get mixed up in before the afternoon was over.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<!-- Page 61 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span>
+<h2><a name="Chapter_9" id="Chapter_9"></a>9</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>We'd been having a wonderful time, playing pingpong and checkers,
+and Little Jim was playing the organ in Poetry's basement while
+Poetry and I made a lot of boy noise playing a tie-off game of
+pingpong, when we heard a door open at the head of the stairway
+leading down into the basement, and somebody sneezed, and we knew
+it was Dragonfly who had come over to play with Poetry. Poetry's
+parents had gone visiting somewhere, calling on some sick people
+in the Sugar Creek hospital, so we could make more noise and it
+wouldn't disturb any grown-up people's nerves, and would also be
+good for ours, it being almost as hard on a boy's nerves to be
+quiet, as it is on a grown-up person's nerves when a boy is
+noisy.</p>
+
+<p>Poetry and I stopped our game and yelled up to Dragonfly to come
+on down and "play the winner," which meant either Poetry or me.</p>
+
+<p>Dragonfly sneezed twice on his way down, he maybe being allergic
+to something he'd smelled when he came in, or else it was the
+change from the cold outside air to the warm inside air.</p>
+
+<p>Poetry won that last game, and it meant he was the champion, so
+he and Dragonfly started in like a house-afire batting that
+pingpong ball back and forth, back and forth, bang, sock, whizz,
+sizzle, ping-ping-ping-ping, pong-pong-pong-pong, sock, sock,
+sock.... Say, that <ins class="TNsilent" title="Transcriber's note: original reads 'little Spindle-legged Dragonfly'"><a name="spindle" id="spindle"></a>little spindle-legged Dragonfly</ins> was <i>good</i>. He
+won the first game right off the bat. He really was a good
+athlete for such a thin little guy. "Hey, you guys!" he said,
+pretending to be very proud of himself, "Isn't there a window
+somewhere we can open? I want to throw out my chest," which was
+an old joke, but sounded funny for Dragonfly to say it, his chest
+being very flat.</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 62 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span>"Sure," Poetry said, "but we can get air quicker by opening the
+door at the top of the stairs," and with that he shuffled up the
+stairs and opened the door, and just as he did so, I heard a
+horse sneeze and a man's voice saying, "Whoa, there, Prince!
+Stand still!" and I knew it was our new teacher, Mr. Black. Just
+that second, Dragonfly sneezed again, and said to Poetry, "I'm
+allergic to horses. Shut that door!"</p>
+
+<p>"Hello!" a voice called. "Anybody at home?"</p>
+
+<p>Well, I can't tell you all that happened for the next fifteen
+minutes, on account of I have to hurry with the rest of this
+story, but Mr. Black was very kind to us boys. He came down into
+the basement, and took a flashlight picture of us with our
+pingpong balls and paddles and with Little Jim at the organ, and
+didn't say a word about the snow man we knew he'd seen yesterday,
+or the book, or anything. He was very nice, and a little later
+when he rode away on his great big beautiful prancing saddle
+horse, I thought maybe he was going to be a good teacher after
+all. The last thing he said to us just before he swung prancing
+Prince around and jogged up Poetry's lane to the house, was,
+"Well, I'll see you boys in the morning at school.... I'm going
+to ride over now and get the fire started. I let it go out over
+Saturday to save fuel.... But the weather report is for a cold
+wave tonight, so I think I'll get the fire going good, and it'll
+be cozy as a bug in a rug tomorrow morning when everybody comes."</p>
+
+<p>It certainly was a pretty horse, and he certainly knew how to
+ride him; and the big beautiful brown saddle and Mr. Black's
+riding habit made me wish I had a big brown horse and a riding
+outfit and could go galloping around all over Sugar Creek
+territory.</p>
+
+<p>Almost right away, we all decided to play outdoors awhile, 'cause
+if there was going to be a real cold wave tonight, it meant that
+tomorrow we'd all have to stay inside the school most of the
+time, 'cause sometimes a cold wave in Sugar Creek territory meant
+twenty degrees below zero.... Poetry went in the house and got
+his binoculars and we all climbed up on their chicken house which
+didn't have any snow on its roof, and started to look around
+Sugar Creek at different things. Little Jim grinned when he
+noticed there wasn't any<!-- Page 63 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> snow on the roof of the chicken house,
+and said, "That certainly was a good sermon this morning," then
+he grunted and sat down astride the chicken house roof, right
+close to a little tin chimney out of which white smoke was
+coming, there being a kerosene heater inside the chicken house.</p>
+
+<p>"It sure was," Poetry said, with the binoculars focused in the
+direction Mr. Black had gone.</p>
+
+<p>"Here, Bill, look at him, will you.... He's stopping at Circus's
+house. Suppose maybe he's going to take a picture of one of
+Circus's sisters?"</p>
+
+<p>Dragonfly giggled when Poetry said that, and I felt hot inside,
+on account of Circus had a lot of sisters, and one of them was a
+real honest-to-goodness girl who wasn't afraid of mice or
+spiders, and sometimes I carried her dinner pail to school. I
+knew Dragonfly was trying to tease me, so I said, "Here, let me
+see."</p>
+
+<p>A jiffy later I was looking at Mr. Black stopping his big horse
+at Circus's house. Just that second, Dragonfly shoved his hands
+against my knees behind me, and both my knees buckled, and I
+swung around a little, and when I looked again toward Circus's
+house, the binoculars were focused, not on his house, but on our
+red brick schoolhouse farther across the field, and all of a
+sudden I let out a gasp and a yell, and felt a queer feeling
+inside of me, for right there on the north side of the
+schoolhouse was a ladder leaning up against the eaves and&mdash;yes, I
+could see it as plain as day, there was something that looked
+like a flat board lying right across the top of the schoolhouse
+chimney....</p>
+
+<p>It was even plainer than day what had happened, and that was that
+Shorty Long and Bob Till had been to our house and barn while we
+were in church and had stolen Snow-white and some other pigeons
+and then seeing how nice and light and easy to carry Pop's new
+ladder was, and remembering the story of <i>The Hoosier
+Schoolmaster</i>, and both of the boys not liking the Sugar Creek
+Gang, and Shorty Long especially not liking me terribly much,
+they had borrowed the ladder and had used it to put the board on
+the chimney, so Mr. Black would be smoked out when he started the
+fire, and I, Bill<!-- Page 64 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> Collins, and maybe all the Sugar Creek Gang,
+would get into even more trouble with Mr. Black, and&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>I was thinking all those worried thoughts in less than a jiffy
+while I was looking through those binoculars, and was still
+standing on the roof of Poetry's pop's chicken house, with Poetry
+and Little Jim beside me.</p>
+
+<p>I must have let out a very excited gasp, 'cause Poetry said,
+"'Smatter, Bill?" and Little Jim said in his mouse-like voice
+which was also excited for a change, "See anything important?"</p>
+
+<p>Dragonfly was on the ground in front of me and he yelled up and
+said "What's the matter?" then he sneezed, which is what people
+sometimes do when all of a sudden they look up and the sun gets
+into their eyes, which it did in Dragonfly's eyes right that
+second.</p>
+
+<p>"Quick!" I yelled to the gang. "Come on, we've got to get to the
+schoolhouse before Mr. Black does or the schoolhouse will catch
+on fire maybe." The ladder was on the side of the schoolhouse
+where I knew Mr. Black wouldn't see it when he got there. I
+whirled around, made a leap for the ground, landed in a snow
+drift, got out of it in a hurry, and raced as fast as I could
+down Poetry's lane toward the highway.</p>
+
+<p>Poetry and Dragonfly and Little Jim came whizzing along behind
+me, yelling what was the matter and why was I in such a hurry,
+and how on earth could the schoolhouse catch on fire, and why did
+we have to get there first, before Mr. Black did.</p>
+
+<p>I still had Poetry's binoculars in my hand, and was running,
+panting, dodging drifts, and all the time I could see in my
+mind's eye Pop's new ladder leaning up against the schoolhouse,
+and I knew that if Mr. Black ever saw it and found out whose it
+was, I'd have a hard time explaining it to him that I hadn't done
+it.</p>
+
+<p>In between pants, I managed to get it into the heads of the rest
+of the gang what I'd seen, and why I was in a hurry. "We've got
+to get there first, and get that board off the chimney or the
+room will be filled with smoke and maybe there will be an
+explosion."</p>
+
+<p>I remember that in <i>The Hoosier Schoolmaster</i>, there had really
+been <i>some</i> smoke....</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 65 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span>Poetry who was my best friend, almost, was as mad as I was, and
+he said, behind me between his short breath, "Those dirty bums!
+They're the cause of <i>all</i> our trouble with our new teacher!"</p>
+
+<p>And would you believe it? Little Jim heard him say that, yelled
+to us, and said, "Are you sure?" Imagine him not being sure.</p>
+
+<p>We took a short cut we knew about, and once when we were on the
+top of a little hill in Dragonfly's pop's woods, we stopped and
+Poetry and I took a couple of quick looks through his binoculars
+toward Circus' house, to see if Mr. Black was still there, and
+his horse was, so we guessed he was too.</p>
+
+<p>I saw him out in their back yard and a whole flock of girls was
+lined up against their woodshed and he was taking their picture.
+I didn't see Circus there anywhere, and I wished he was with us,
+on account of he could run faster than any of us and also climb
+better.</p>
+
+<p>"Come on!" I yelled to the rest of the guys with me, "we can make
+it, I think." Away we went.</p>
+
+<p>"Wait!" Dragonfly yelled from pretty far back. "I'm out of
+breath. I&mdash;can't&mdash;can't run so&mdash;fast!" which he couldn't.</p>
+
+<p>All of a sudden, Poetry stopped and said, "We're crazy, Bill, we
+can't make it. Look! There he goes now, right straight toward the
+schoolhouse. Quick! Drop down! <ins class="TNsilent" title="Transcriber's note: original lacked exclamation point"><a name="thisway" id="thisway"></a>He's looking this way!</ins>"</p>
+
+<p>He ducked behind a rail fence which is where we were at the time,
+and I dropped down beside him. Dragonfly was still coming along
+not more than fifty feet behind us, with little Jim staying back
+with him.</p>
+
+<p>I hated to stop, and I hated to have to realize what was
+happening, but it was, and that was that Mr. Black was going to
+get to the schoolhouse first and he'd start the fire in the
+schoolhouse stove first, on account of he wouldn't see the ladder
+first, 'cause it was on the opposite side of the school from the
+woodshed where he kept his kindling wood.</p>
+
+<p>I'd seen Mr. Black start fires in the Poetry-shaped iron stove
+before, and this is the way he always did it.... He'd go straight
+to the corner of the schoolhouse under the long shelf where we
+all kept our dinner pails, and pick up a tin can of kerosene
+which he kept in the corner, and in which he kept some neat
+little sticks standing.<!-- Page 66 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> Those little sticks would be all soaked
+with kerosene from having stood there all night or longer, and
+he'd take them to the stove and lay them in carefully, along with
+other small pieces of wood and a few larger pieces, and then he
+would very carefully light a match and touch the flame to the
+kerosene-soaked sticks, and right away there would be a nice
+fire....</p>
+
+<p>I knew it would take Mr. Black only a little while to lay the
+fire, and in a few minutes the fire in the stove would be roaring
+away. But with the board on the chimney, the smoke couldn't get
+out, and it'd have to come out of the stove somewhere, which it
+would, and the schoolhouse would be filled with smoke in a jiffy;
+also I remembered the Christmas tree which we'd left up since
+Christmas, wasn't more than fifteen feet from the stove, and its
+needles were dry enough to burn....</p>
+
+<p>Something had to be done in a hurry, and yet there was Mr. Black
+getting closer and closer to the schoolhouse.... In fact, it was
+already too late to get there before he went inside, without
+being seen. I knew that if I got there in time to hurry up that
+ladder and take off the board, I'd have to do it <i>after</i> Mr.
+Black got inside, and before he could get the fire laid and
+started....</p>
+
+<p>The rail fence behind which we were hiding right that minute was
+on the same side of the school the ladder was, and about as far
+from the school as our barn is from our house....</p>
+
+<p>All of us were squatted down behind the fence now, and I took
+charge of the gang and said, "You guys stay here. The very minute
+he gets in, I'll dive out of here and make a bee-line for the
+schoolhouse, and zip up the ladder and take the board off. Then
+I'll climb back down, take the ladder and drag it around behind
+the schoolhouse quick, and come back here.... Then tonight or
+sometime after Mr. Black goes home, some of us'll sneak over and
+bring the ladder home, and everything'll be all right."</p>
+
+<p>It was a good idea if only it would work, which it had to, or I
+just knew that the gentleman I'd made up my mind I was going to
+try to be, would get a terrible licking, which any gentleman
+shouldn't have to have, or he isn't one, which I wasn't, yet,
+anyway....</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 67 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span>"Let ME do it," Poetry said beside me, puffing hard from the fast
+run we'd just had, and Dragonfly said, "The ladder'd break with
+you on it," trying to be funny and not being.</p>
+
+<p>Little Jim piped up and said, "All the snow's off the roof right
+next to the chimney." I looked at him real quick, and he had a
+far-away look in his eyes, like he was not only looking at the
+dry roof all around the schoolhouse chimney, but was thinking
+something very important, which he'd heard in church that
+morning, but which I hadn't....</p>
+
+<p>"Here goes," I said, my heart beating wildly. "You guys stay
+here, and watch," and Little Jim piped up and said, "We
+will&mdash;we'll watch and&mdash;and&mdash;" I knew what he was going to say
+even before he said it, and for some reason it seemed like it was
+all right for him to say it, and it didn't sound sissified for
+him to, either. While I was climbing over that rail fence and
+making a dive for the schoolhouse and the ladder, Little Jim's
+whole sentence was tumbling around in my mind, and it was, "We
+will&mdash;we'll watch and&mdash;and <i>pray</i>."</p>
+
+<p>Little Jim was almost as good a friend of mine, as Tom Till was,
+I thought....</p>
+
+<p>A jiffy later I reached my pop's new ladder and started to start
+up when I heard somebody running behind me and saying in a husky
+whisper, "Hey, Bill! Stop. Wait! Let me hold the ladder."</p>
+
+<p>I looked around quick and it was Poetry behind me, and I knew he
+was right. My pop had taught me never to go up a ladder until I
+was sure the bottom of it was safely set so it <i>wouldn't</i> slip,
+or unless somebody stayed at the bottom to hold it so it
+<i>couldn't</i>.</p>
+
+<p>A jiffy later, I was on my way up, and another steenth of a jiffy
+I was at the eaves, and, being a very good climber, I scrambled
+up the other little ladder that was made out of nailed-on boards,
+to the red brick chimney. I had to be as quiet as I could,
+though, on account of not wanting Mr. Black to hear me on the
+roof. I also was going to have to be careful when I took the
+board off so the sound of it sliding off wouldn't go down the
+chimney through the stove.</p>
+
+<p>In another jiffy I'd have had the board off, and have given it a
+toss far out where it wouldn't have hit Poetry, and then I'd
+<!-- Page 68 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> <ins class="TNsilent" title="Transcriber's note: original reads 'have been on my day down'"><a name="waydown" id="waydown"></a>have been on my way down</ins> again, but when I took hold of the
+wide, flat board, I couldn't any more get it off than anything. I
+gasped out-loud when I saw why I couldn't get it off, and that
+was that there was a nail driven into each end of it, and a piece
+of stove pipe wire was wrapped around the head of each nail and
+then the wire was twisted around and around the brick chimney,
+down where it was smaller, and that crazy old board wouldn't
+budge&mdash;an almost <i>new</i> board, rather, and as soon as I saw it, I
+knew it was the board out of the swing which we have in the
+walnut tree at our house.... Why, the dirty crooks! I thought.
+They wanted it to be <i>sure</i> to look like Bill Collins put it up
+here.</p>
+
+<p>I was holding onto the chimney, in fact I was sort of behind it,
+so I wouldn't slide down.... I could hear sounds down in the
+schoolhouse of somebody doing something to the stove, which must
+have been Mr. Black finishing laying the fire, 'cause right that
+second I heard a sound like an iron door closing on the big round
+iron Poetry-shaped stove, and almost a second later, a puff of
+bluish smoke came bursting out through a crack where the board
+didn't quite cover the chimney on one side, and I knew that the
+fire was started. I knew that in a few jiffies that one-room
+school would be filled with smoke, and a mad teacher would come
+storming out to see what on earth was the matter with the
+chimney, and I'd be in for it.</p>
+
+<p>"Hey!" I hissed down to Poetry, shielding my voice with my hand
+so the sound would go toward Poetry instead of down the chimney.
+Poetry heard me and dived out far enough from the schoolhouse to
+see me, and I hissed to him, "It's too late. The fire's already
+started. What'll I do. I can't get it off. They've wired it on.
+If I had a pair of pliers, I could cut the wire."</p>
+
+<p>And Poetry yelled up to me and said, "There's a pair in the
+schoolhouse."</p>
+
+<p>The awfulest sounds came up the chimney from down inside the
+schoolhouse, and I could just imagine what Mr. Black was
+thinking, and maybe was saying too. Smoke was pouring out of the
+chimney beside my face, but I knew the crack was too small for
+<i>all</i> the smoke to get out, and the room down there would be
+filling up with smoke....</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 69 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span>What on earth to do, was screaming at me in my mind.... Then
+Poetry had an idea and it was, "Come on down quick, and let's
+run. Let's leave the ladder and everything!"</p>
+
+<p>"But it's my pop's ladder, and it's our swing board, out of our
+walnut tree swing."</p>
+
+<p>"I say, let's <i>run</i>!" Poetry half yelled and half hissed up to
+me, and for some reason, knowing I couldn't get the board off the
+chimney, and guessing what might happen if I got caught, it
+seemed like Poetry's idea was as good as any, and so I turned and
+started to scoot my way down the board ladder on the roof to the
+ladder Poetry would be holding for me, and then&mdash;well, I don't
+know how it happened, but my boot slipped before I could get my feet on pop's ladder, and I felt all of me slipping toward the
+edge of the roof&mdash;slipping, slipping, slipping, and I knew I
+wouldn't be able to stop myself. In a jiffy, I'd be going
+slippety-sizzle over the edge of the eaves and land with a wham
+at Poetry's feet. I might even land on him and hurt him; and even
+while I was sliding, I heard a sickening sound in the schoolhouse
+somewhere, like a stove was falling down, or a chair was falling
+over or something, and then my feet were over the edge, and I was
+grasping and grasping with my bare hands at the slippery roof,
+and they couldn't find anything to hold onto, and then I heard
+another sound that was even more sickening than the one I'd heard
+in the schoolhouse and it was a ripping and tearing sound, and
+then felt a long sharp pain on me somewhere and I knew my
+trousers had caught on a nail or something....</p>
+
+<p>R-r-r-r-r-r-ip!... R-r-r-r-r-r-ip! Tear-r-r-r-r-! And I knew that
+when I would hit the ground in a few half jiffies, there would be
+a big hole in my trousers which I'd have to explain to Mom when I
+got home, as well as a lot of other things to both Mom and Pop.</p>
+
+<p>The next thing I knew I was off the edge and falling and the very
+next thing I learned awful quick, was I had landed ker-wham-thud
+in a snow drift at the foot of the ladder.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<!-- Page 70 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span>
+<h2><a name="Chapter_10" id="Chapter_10"></a>10</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Even while I was falling and scared and feeling the long sharp
+pain running up and down my hip where I'd probably been scratched
+by a nail, I was wondering what would happen next&mdash;what Mr. Black
+would do, and what would happen when I got home, and also I was
+wondering how bad I would be hurt when I fell&mdash;and then I lit
+ker-fluffety-sizzle in that big snowdrift....</p>
+
+<p>And there I was, Bill Collins, the one member of the Sugar Creek
+Gang who had made up his mind he wasn't going to have anything to
+do with smoking a teacher out of his schoolhouse, the one who was
+going to be what is called a gentleman, now lying upside down in
+a scrambled-up heap, with one of my trouser legs ripped maybe
+half way down, and myself all covered with snow and with my mind
+all tangled up and everything.</p>
+
+<p>The fall didn't hurt much though, on account of the snowdrift
+being pretty deep, but we had to do something and do it quick.</p>
+
+<p>Just that minute, I heard the schoolhouse door open around in
+front and while I was trying to scramble to my feet, I looked
+toward the front of the school and right that second Mr. Black
+came swishing around <ins class="TNsilent" title="Transcriber's note: original reads 'on our side of the school house'"><a name="schoolhouse" id="schoolhouse"></a>on our side of the schoolhouse</ins> with a big
+pail in his hand and swooped with it down onto a snowdrift,
+scooped up a pailful of snow and without even looking in our
+direction dived back around the corner of the schoolhouse like he
+was half scared to death, and right that second Poetry yelled to
+Dragonfly and Little Jim who were still hiding behind the rail
+fence to "Hurry up! I think the schoolhouse is on fire inside!
+Let's go help Mr. Black put it out."</p>
+
+<p>And so I, Bill Collins, an imaginary gentleman, but not looking
+like even a half a one, staggered out of my snowdrift, and the
+four of us made a dive for the front of the schoolhouse and
+around to the<!-- Page 71 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> open door, which had smoke pouring out of it, to
+see if we could help Mr. Black put out the fire, if there was
+one.</p>
+
+<p>"I can't go in," Dragonfly said, "I'm allergic to smoke. It'll
+make me sneeze."</p>
+
+<p>Just that second we heard Mr. Black's horse, which was tied at
+the front gate, snort and make crazy horse noises, and even
+before I could imagine what was going to happen, it had happened.
+There was a noise like a leather strap straining, and then a
+cracking and splintering sound. I looked just in time to see the
+little wooden gate to which the horse had been tied, break in two
+or maybe three, and part of it go galloping down the road being
+dragged by a scared wild-eyed brown saddle horse, and at the same
+time I saw a half-wild-looking man come running out of the
+smoking schoolhouse and make a wild dash through the place where
+the gate had been and go racing after the horse, not even seeing
+us boys, or if he saw us, not paying any attention to us, but
+yelling to Prince in a commanding voice to "WHOA ... W-H-O-A!"</p>
+
+<p>It certainly was an exciting minute, and in spite of the way I
+knew I must have looked myself, with snow all over me and with a
+ripped trouser leg and everything, Mr. Black looked even worse as
+he went racing down that road after his horse, yelling for the
+horse to stop.... The very minute he went swishing past us, I
+noticed that his hands were black with soot, as also was his
+face, and he really looked like a wild man, and for some reason
+even while everything else was all topsy turvy in my mind, I
+couldn't help but remember Poetry's poetry which went:</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<span class="i2">"<i>The Sugar Creek Gang had the worst of teachers,</i></span><br />
+<span class="i3"><i>And 'Black' his named was called;</i></span><br />
+<span class="i2"><i>His round red face had the homeliest of features;</i></span><br />
+<span class="i3"><i>He was fat and forty and bald</i>"--</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<p>only his face was black as well as his name, and I knew if he
+hadn't been bald, his hair would certainly have been all mussed
+up like mine is most of the time when my hat is off, only Mr.
+Black's fur hat was still on.</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 72 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span>Say, Prince certainly wasn't in any horse mood to stop, on
+account of being scared, I suppose, what with the smoke pouring
+out of the schoolhouse, and all the noise which the stove had
+made, and with the gang making a noise and running excitedly, and
+everything. That horse with a gate tied to its bridle rein
+probably was as scared as a dog or a cat is when a boy that ought
+to know better ties a tin can to its tail and shouldn't and it
+gets scared and runs, and keeps on running....</p>
+
+<p>Prince kept running and the piece of gate kept swinging in
+different directions. Every time the horse turned his head this
+way or that, the gate would swing around and sock him in the side
+and scare him maybe even worse. I thought how terrible it would
+be if Prince would get his feet all tangled up in part of the
+gate, and fall, and maybe break one of his legs and have to be
+killed, which is what nearly always has to be done to a horse
+when it breaks one of its legs, on account of you can't get a
+horse to be quiet for weeks and months long enough for its leg to
+heal. I certainly wouldn't want such a pretty horse to have to be
+killed....</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>Ho hum&mdash;say, if I don't get going faster, telling you this story,
+it'll be too long to get it into one book and I'll have to finish
+it some other time, so here goes just as fast as I can, till I
+get to the end....</p>
+
+<p>There we were&mdash;the four of us, innocent-faced Little Jim,
+dragonfly-eyed Dragonfly, barrel-shaped Poetry, and me,
+red-haired, freckle-faced Bill Collins&mdash;and there was Mr. Black
+and his horse getting farther and farther up the road which was
+the road that leads past Circus' and Big Jim's houses, which as
+you know are on the other side of the road from each other.</p>
+
+<p>But we couldn't stand there and just watch a runaway horse with a
+man chasing it, when a schoolhouse was on fire, or was supposed
+to be. I'd been so excited about the runaway horse that I'd
+almost forgotten the schoolhouse.</p>
+
+<p>I turned around quick to the door, and would you believe it?
+Little Jim and Poetry and Dragonfly were already inside and I'd<!-- Page 73 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span>
+been standing out there by what used to be a gate, watching Mr.
+Black and his horse all by myself! Even Dragonfly was inside
+although he had opened one of the windows and was standing
+leaning half way out and breathing fresh air so he wouldn't
+sneeze, he, as you know, being allergic to smoke. That
+schoolhouse certainly looked funny with the sunlight which came
+in from the windows, shining through the bluish smoke, so that
+things at first weren't very clear to my eyes, but when about a
+half-jiffy later, my eyes were accustomed to the dark light, I
+saw a really crazy looking schoolhouse. There on the teacher's
+desk, upside down, was the teacher's great big swivel chair; and
+the brooms and the mop were piled on top of that, and on the
+blackboard written in great big letters with chalk, was Poetry's
+poem about a teacher not having any hair. The old Christmas tree
+which had been standing so pretty and straight in a corner of the
+platform was lying on the floor, and the popcorn and paper chains
+which the Sugar Creek pupils had made were in a tangled up mess
+all over the tree and the floor. The stove door was open and the
+fire box was half-filled with snow, which maybe Mr. Black had
+scooped in to put out the fire he'd started awhile ago.</p>
+
+<p>All that mess, with the turned-over tree and Poetry's poem and
+the topsyturvy desk and chair, meant that two boys you know about
+had not only put the board across the chimney but had crawled
+into the schoolhouse through one of the windows maybe and upset
+things, then had printed the poem there for our teacher to see
+and&mdash;well, you can guess I wasn't feeling very much like a
+gentleman. I knew that if Shorty Long and Bob Till were right
+there right that minute I'd probably prove to them that I wasn't
+one yet.</p>
+
+<p>It was Little Jim who woke us all up that something had to be
+done. We were all sort of standing helpless, looking around at
+the mess, when he piped up and said in a voice that sounded like
+he was the leader of the gang, "Hey, you guys! Let's DO
+something, before he gets back. Let's straighten things up, and
+maybe when he comes he'll believe that we didn't do it!"</p>
+
+<p>Then Dragonfly whirled around from his window, and said, "They're
+clear down to Circus's house already, and the horse just turned
+in to their barnyard," which made me want to make a dive<!-- Page 74 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> for the
+window to look too, but I didn't 'cause all of a sudden Little
+Jim said something else which was, "Let's start the fire for him
+real quick, and that'll show him we like him," and that started
+my mind to working.</p>
+
+<p>"We can't," I said, "the board's still across the chimney and we
+can't get it off."</p>
+
+<p>That started Poetry to thinking and he made a heavy dive for the
+long shelf along the back wall, and right there where they had
+been, only there was some stove pipe wire beside them, were the
+pliers. In a jiffy, Poetry and I were back outside, and with him
+holding the ladder and with me all trembling inside, but not too
+nervous to climb, I went up that ladder, hand over hand, and in
+less than a half-dozen worried jiffies, had our swing board off
+the chimney and tossed it out into a snow drift. When I was down
+again, Poetry and I whisked the ladder back behind the
+schoolhouse, and with our feet, covered it with snow, and also
+the swing board, and when we got back inside the schoolhouse,
+Little Jim and Dragonfly had used their hands and had taken the
+little fire shovel and scooped out as much of the snow out of the
+stove as they could and had laid the fire again, like we all knew
+how to do, from having seen our parents do it. Poetry shoved his
+hand in his pocket for his water-proof match box, and in a little
+while we had a roaring fire in the big round iron stove. Then all
+of us started in to cleaning up the schoolhouse as fast as we
+could.</p>
+
+<p>Poetry grabbed an eraser and as quick and as fierce as a cat
+jumping on a mouse, leaped toward the blackboard and swished his
+poetry into nothing; Little Jim found a dust cloth and went up
+one row of seats and down another, carefully dusting each one
+just like I imagine he'd been taught at home&mdash;not swishing the
+cloth around too fast which would make more dust. I began to try
+to untangle the Christmas tree from the popcorn strings and paper
+chains, thinking how nice the tree would look standing up in the
+corner again, when all of a sudden Dragonfly hissed and said,
+"Hey! Everybody! Come here, quick! See what I found!"</p>
+
+<p>Dragonfly had been standing by a wide open window on account of
+there was still too much smoke in the room for him to breathe without <!-- Page 75 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span>
+sneezing. The Sugar Creek School's great big unabridged
+dictionary was wide open on a shelf which was fastened to the
+wall by the window.</p>
+
+<p>Before we could get there, Dragonfly said excitedly, "It's Mr.
+Black's diary!"</p>
+
+<p>Well, if there is anything a person wants to read, and shouldn't
+and mustn't, it's somebody's diary, unless that person tells him
+to. My parents had told me that when I was little, and Pop had
+licked me once for reading his, and so I knew Dragonfly shouldn't
+have read Mr. Black's diary, so when I got to where he was and
+saw him looking at a pretty leather bound notebook lying flat
+open on the big open dictionary I said, "Stop reading that! It's
+not good etiquette," which is, "not good manners," or something.</p>
+
+<p>I certainly wasn't going to turn any pages of the diary and read
+them, I said to myself, remembering what my parents had told me,
+and also the half hard licking my pop had given me for reading
+his, when he told me not to, but when I got to where Dragonfly
+was and looked to see if it really was Mr. Black's diary, without
+even trying to I saw on the page that was half open, written in
+printed letters, these words:</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<span class="i2">"<i>The Sugar Creek Gang had the worst of teachers,</i></span><br />
+<span class="i3"><i>And 'Black' his named was called</i>...."</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<p>For some reason it didn't look very funny. In fact, it seemed
+like anybody who had first thought up such a poem must have been
+crazy in the head.</p>
+
+<p>I knew I shouldn't have been reading, and I decided to quit
+quick, which I did, only I saw one other thing just as my eyes
+were leaving the page, and it was:</p>
+
+<p>"Things have come to a show down with the boys. I know I'm going
+to have to take drastic action soon."</p>
+
+<p>"What's '<i>drastic</i>' mean?" Dragonfly wanted to know, just as I
+turned away, and I knew he'd read what I'd read, so I said, "I
+don't know, but whatever it is, I'll bet it'll hurt like
+everything." I reached<!-- Page 76 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> out my hand and laid it down flat on the
+opened diary, so I wouldn't read anything else, when Dragonfly
+said, "Psst! Listen!"</p>
+
+<p>We all listened for a half jiffy and things were so quiet in that
+still-half-smokey room we could hear only the crackling of the
+fire in the stove, when all of a sudden there was a step on the
+schoolhouse porch, and the door was thrust open and there stood
+Mr. Black himself, looking right straight at us.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<!-- Page 77 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span>
+<h2><a name="Chapter_11" id="Chapter_11"></a>11</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Well, when four boys get caught doing something they're not sure
+they're supposed to be doing, they don't know what to do or what
+to say, and sometimes they start talking right away to explain
+<i>why</i> they are doing what they're doing&mdash;which is what <i>we</i>
+started to do&mdash;that is we <i>started</i> to, but all of us talking at
+once didn't make sense, so we stopped. This is what we all said
+though: Dragonfly said, "Good morning, Mr. Black!" which is what
+you say to a teacher when it <i>is</i> morning and you are trying to
+be polite; Poetry said, "Somebody wrote a crazy poem about you on
+the black, Mr. Blackboard, and I erased it"; Little Jim said,
+"That certainly was a good sermon this morning, Mr. Black"; and
+I, William Jasper Collins, with my torn trousers <ins class="TNsilent" title="Transcriber's note: original reads 'and my freckled-face'"><a name="freckled" id="freckled"></a>and my freckled face and my rumpled red hair</ins> and my mussed-up mind said, "I hope
+you don't have to shoot him if he broke his leg. He didn't break
+it, did he?"</p>
+
+<p>All of us said most of these things at the same time, while we
+were standing in a semi-circle around the unabridged dictionary
+with the open notebook on it.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Black was puffing and panting, he being Poetry-shaped as well
+as the stove, but he all of a sudden said, "Wait, boys, don't
+move! I want to get your pictures, right where you are, and <i>as</i>
+you are." Before we could decide to move or not to move, he
+whirled around, hurried over toward the shelf where we always set
+our dinner pails on school days, and came back with his camera
+which we hadn't noticed had been there. It was a very pretty
+camera and was the kind people used when they took a flashlight
+picture.</p>
+
+<p>What on earth he wanted a picture of us for, I didn't know,
+unless it was so he could prove to anybody who didn't believe it,
+that we were a bunch of roughnecks. Quick as a blinding flash he
+had our<!-- Page 78 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> picture taken, and then he whirled around like he wanted
+to take some more pictures, and stopped and stared at the
+Christmas tree which I had stood back up in the corner, with the
+popcorn and paper chains tangled up on it, and at the erased
+blackboard and at his desk which didn't have any chairs upside
+down on it, and he said, "Who straightened up this room! Did you
+boys do that!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir," I said, "we did; we wanted to prove to you that we
+didn't do it."</p>
+
+<p>"You WHAT!"</p>
+
+<p>"We wanted to prove to you that we didn't <i>do</i> it!" Little Jim
+said.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Black looked at Little Jim and at all of us like he thought
+we were even crazier than we felt, and he said, "Prove you didn't
+do <i>what</i>?"</p>
+
+<p>"That we didn't put the board across the&mdash;OUCH!" Dragonfly
+started to talk, but stopped his sentence with an OUCH when I
+quick kicked him on the shin.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Black's eyes opened wide. Then for the first time he seemed
+to notice that the fire was going again and that the stove wasn't
+smoking so he scratched his head above his left ear, hurried over
+to the stove with the camera in his hand, set his camera on his
+big desk, opened the stove's door and shut it again, and just
+stood there, looking first at the stove and then at us, and I
+wished I knew what he was thinking; then I noticed that his eyes
+glanced off in the direction of the blackboard and to the beech
+switches which were lying on a ledge at the top. I could just see
+myself and all of us getting a licking in about seven jiffies. I
+started to edge toward the door, but he must have guessed what I
+was thinking, 'cause he barked a command to me which was "William
+Collins! Stop where you are!"</p>
+
+<p>I stopped stock still, trembling inside of me, wondering what the
+word "drastic" was going to mean.</p>
+
+<p>Then Mr. Black barked to me, "Go to the blackboard and get me
+those beech switches!" There was a tone of voice in his words
+which made me start toward the blackboard instead of toward the
+only door the schoolhouse had. I had to pass Dragonfly's open
+window which was still open, on account of there was still some
+smoke in the room. It would have been easy for me to make a dive
+out of that<!-- Page 79 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> window but I didn't want to leave the gang alone
+there with an angry teacher. I also had to pass close to the
+unabridged dictionary, and I all of a quick sudden decided if I
+knew what the word "<i>drastic</i>" meant, it might give me an idea
+what to do next, so I stopped, and quick turned the pages to the
+letter "D" and was trying to find <i>drastic</i>, when Mr. Black
+barked a question at me, and it was, "Young MAN! <i>What</i> are you
+<i>doing</i>?"</p>
+
+<p>I jumped like I had been shot, but made myself say as calmly as I
+could, over my shoulder, "I just wanted to look up an important
+word first. I'll get the switches in just a minute."</p>
+
+<p>"If the word is <i>punishment</i>," Mr. Black said to me angrily,
+"it's a <i>noun</i>, and it means <i>beech switches</i>.... You bring them
+to me!" And I knew I had to do it. I stopped looking in the
+dictionary, and feeling simply terrible inside of me, on account
+of not having done anything wrong on purpose, but knowing Mr.
+Black wouldn't believe us even if we told him, I got the switches
+and took them toward him, but was so nervous I dropped one of
+them.... Say, Little Jim who is very quick when he makes up his
+mind to do something, made a dive for the floor, picked up the
+switch I'd dropped and quick took the other one out of my hand,
+and handed them both to Mr. Black and said to him very politely,
+"Here you are, sir, with all the old brown dead leaves
+gone&mdash;every one of them."</p>
+
+<p>"What on <i>earth</i>?" I thought, and looked at Little Jim's face and
+then at Mr. Black's.</p>
+
+<p>Say our teacher's face had all of a sudden the queerest
+expression on it, and he looked at Little Jim like he wondered
+"What on <i>earth</i>?" himself.</p>
+
+<p>Then he looked at me, and his face was hard again.</p>
+
+<p>Right that second I remembered my torn trousers, and the place
+where they were torn clear through to the skin. The scratch was
+still hurting, so I said, "If you're&mdash;if you're going to lick me,
+d-don't hit me on my scratched thigh!" I turned sidewise to him,
+stooped over part way, and showed him my torn trousers and the
+reddish scratch on my thigh, which for some reason didn't look
+half as bad as I wished it did, right that minute.</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 80 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span>Mr. Black frowned, and asked fast, "Where'd you get that
+scratch!" and Dragonfly said, "When he was up on the&mdash;OUCH!" I
+stopped Dragonfly with a kick on his shin again.</p>
+
+<p>"What's that? Where'd you say he got it?" Mr. Black barked his
+question to Dragonfly, and before any of us could stop him,
+Dragonfly had said, "On the schoolhouse roof."</p>
+
+<p>I just couldn't believe Dragonfly was that dumb&mdash;that he didn't
+know he oughtn't to tell where I'd gotten that scratch. I
+remembered with a mad thought that we'd had trouble with
+Dragonfly once before, on account of he had been friends with
+Shorty Long.</p>
+
+<p>There wasn't any time to think or to remember anything else
+Dragonfly had done, but it certainly didn't feel good to have one
+of our own gang be what is called a "tattletale." Why he was
+supposed to be one of my very best friends!</p>
+
+<p>I looked at Little Jim and Poetry to see what they thought and to
+see if they could think of anything that might help us from
+getting a licking with those leaveless beech switches. Poetry had
+a pucker on his forehead like he was thinking, or maybe trying
+to, and Little Jim had that innocent lamb-like look on his small
+face which when he looks like that, always reminds me of the
+picture his mom has on the wall above their piano in their house,
+of the Good Shepherd with a little lamb in his arms, with the
+Good Shepherd's hand on the little lamb's poll, which is the top
+of its head....</p>
+
+<p>Then in a flash I was seeing Mr. Black again standing with one
+hand on his hip and the other holding onto one of the beech
+switches, he having laid the other switch down on Sylvia's little
+sister's desk, which was beside and behind him.</p>
+
+<p>"And <i>what</i>," Mr. Black said to me, "were you doing on the
+schoolhouse <i>roof</i>?"</p>
+
+<p>Well, I hated to tell him because I thought he wouldn't believe
+it, and another reason I hated to tell him was because if I did,
+it would mean I'd have to tell him somebody <i>else</i> had put the
+board ON the chimney, and that wouldn't be fair to Little Tom
+Till who was Bob's brother, and also on account of my mom was
+trying to get Shorty Long's mom to be a Christian, and I hated to
+be a tattletale<!-- Page 81 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> about Shorty and Bob, so I just stood there,
+without answering Mr. Black.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Answer</i> me!" he demanded. I could see <ins class="TNsilent" title="Transcriber's note: original has comma at end of sentence"><a name="reallyangry" id="reallyangry"></a>he was getting really angry.</ins>
+I took one quick look at the door to see if I could dive
+past him and get there first and make a wild dash for home. I saw
+Little Jim's face and it reminded me again of the Bible picture
+above his piano, and that reminded me of a Bible verse I'd
+memorized, which was, "A soft answer turneth away wrath," and I
+thought of Mr. Black's pretty horse and said, politely, "Your
+horse is the prettiest horse I ever saw. I hope he didn't fall
+and break his leg."</p>
+
+<p>I looked at Poetry and he winked at me, and said to Mr. Black,
+"It'll get dark pretty soon and if there's going to be a cold
+wave tonight, we'd better help you carry in plenty of wood. We'll
+help you bank the fire good."</p>
+
+<p>But it was Little Jim who saved us from trouble, when he said
+what he said, and it was, "That was a good sermon this morning,
+wasn't it, Mr. Black? All of us are going to try not to be mad at
+you any more, and if we've done anything wrong, we're sorry. We
+hope you won't give us a licking, but if you do, we won't even
+get mad."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Black looked down at that innocent looking little face, and
+kept on looking at it, and then he seemed to get a far-away
+expression in his eyes like he was thinking about something that
+wasn't in the schoolhouse. I noticed his hand that had the switch
+in it was trembling, and I knew he was really mad which is the
+way my hands sometimes shake when I feel that way.</p>
+
+<p>Then he looked up like he was hearing something outside, and
+without saying anything turned and with the switches in his
+hands, walked with heavy steps over to the window and looked out,
+with his back to us. I could hear him breathing heavily like he
+had been running, and there was a terrible feeling inside of me,
+which is the way a boy feels when he knows some grown-up person
+is awful angry.</p>
+
+<p>The four of us stood by the stove and looked at different things,
+not any of us moving, and not a one of us looking at each other,
+except I glanced at different ones of us out of the corner of my
+eye, and then looked away again. I could still hear Mr. Black
+breathing<!-- Page 82 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> heavily.... I didn't look, but I guessed he was still
+standing and looking out into the late afternoon sunlight on the
+snow.</p>
+
+<p>Then I heard him cough a little and clear his throat, and heard
+him walking. I looked and he was going to the blackboard, where,
+very carefully, like he was afraid he'd drop one of them, he laid
+the beech switches on the shelf, then he turned and sat down in
+his chair at his desk, and picked up a book that was lying there,
+opened it and leafed through it slowly....</p>
+
+<p>"What on earth!" I thought.</p>
+
+<p>You could have knocked me over with a turkey feather, when I saw
+the kind of book he was leafing through. I'd never seen it there
+on that desk before, and I wondered where it had come from, but
+there it was as plain as day, an honest-to-goodness great big
+beautiful brown-bound Bible.</p>
+
+<p>All of us were so quiet, and I had such a tense feeling inside of
+me that I couldn't say a word, and didn't want to anyway. The
+fingers of one of Mr. Black's hands were sort of drumming on the
+desk, and he was looking at something in the very front of the
+Bible in the place where people nearly always write their names,
+to show whose Bible it is.</p>
+
+<p>Then real slow-like, he began to turn the pages not looking up at
+any of us, but like he was thinking about something that wasn't
+in the schoolroom. I could hear the crackling of the fire in the
+stove, and hear us all breathing. I caught a corner of Poetry's
+eye with a corner of one of mine, but couldn't tell what he was
+thinking. Little Jim had his small hands stretched out in front
+of him warming them at the stove, and Dragonfly was trying to get
+his father's big red bandanna handkerchief out of his pocket
+before he would sneeze about something, but didn't get it out
+quick enough and the sneeze showered itself on the hot stove and
+made a sizzling sound.</p>
+
+<p>Dragonfly grabbed his nose with the red handkerchief and stopped
+most of the next sneeze, so only a little tail of it exploded.</p>
+
+<p>The fingers of both Mr. Black's hands were drumming on the desk
+on each side of his open Bible, and he had his eyes glued to the<!-- Page 83 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span>
+page, although I could tell the way he was staring at the page
+that he maybe wasn't reading but only thinking.</p>
+
+<p>It was as quiet, in fact ten times as quiet, as if we were having
+school.</p>
+
+<p>A jiffy later, I heard Mr. Black clear his throat and say to us,
+"It's been a very exciting afternoon, boys, and I don't feel any
+too well. I think I ran too hard to catch Prince." He took a very
+deep breath, and sighed, and yawned and leaned back in his chair,
+without looking straight at us but just in our direction, just as
+Little Jim piped up and said, "Did you catch him? Was he hurt?"</p>
+
+<p>"Circus stopped him," Mr. Black said, "and we put him up in their
+barn till he calms down and quits trembling.... You boys want to
+bring in a couple of armloads of wood?"</p>
+
+<p>Well, in a few jiffies all of us boys were carrying in wood and
+stacking it in the back of the schoolroom where we would have
+plenty to keep the schoolhouse nice and warm tomorrow.</p>
+
+<p>I just couldn't figure it out&mdash;our not getting any licking, and
+Mr. Black reading the Bible and all of a sudden acting very kind.
+Why, when we carried in our loads of wood, he acted like he was
+our very best friend, and that we not only hadn't done anything
+wrong, but that he didn't even <i>think</i> we had. I couldn't
+understand it, but all the time Little Jim had a happy grin on
+his face, while we worked, and he kept saying, "I thought it
+would work.... I was pretty sure it would, and it did."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>What</i> worked!" I said to him, just as he opened the door for me
+and I went in with an armload of wood, and he shut the door after
+me. Dragonfly and Poetry were out in the woodshed getting another
+load.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, something," Little Jim said, and wouldn't tell me, but he
+certainly had a cheerful expression on his face.</p>
+
+<p>Pretty soon when we were all done and were getting ready to go
+home, Mr. Black stopped us and said, "Wait a minute, boys, I need
+one more picture.... You know, next Wednesday night Mrs.
+Mansfield is going to give a book review of <i>The Hoosier
+Schoolmaster</i> at the Literary Society and I've promised to
+illustrate the story on the screen with some modern pictures from
+real life. I ought to have<!-- Page 84 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> one of a teacher putting a board on
+the chimney of a schoolhouse.... Leslie, you get that ladder I
+saw you boys carry behind the schoolhouse awhile ago, and set it
+up again&mdash;here, Bill, hold my Bible a minute." He thrust the
+beautiful new brown-bound Bible in my hands and started around
+the schoolhouse with Poetry to where we'd buried the ladder.</p>
+
+<p>"What on <i>earth</i>!" I thought, and decided he must have looked
+toward the schoolhouse once and seen us putting it there, while
+he was down the road between the schoolhouse and Circus's house.</p>
+
+<p>Without hardly knowing I was going to, I quick opened the Bible
+to the first blank page and what I saw was, "To my dear son, Sam
+Black, from your Mother." And right below it were printed, very
+carefully, the words:</p>
+
+<div class="blockcenter">
+"<i>This Book will keep you from sin,<br />
+<br />
+or<br />
+<br />
+Sin will keep you from this Book.</i>"
+</div>
+
+<p>In a jiffy the ladder was set up, with Little Jim and me holding
+it, and Mr. Black on his way up. Poetry who knew how to take
+pictures better than any of the rest of us was standing away out
+away from the schoolhouse, and snapped the picture, himself.</p>
+
+<p>While Mr. Black was still up on the roof, he called down to all
+of us in a cheerful voice and said, "That was a very clever poem
+you boys composed&mdash;you know, the one you had on the snow man
+yesterday, and on the blackboard this afternoon. I think I got a
+very good picture of both of them for next Wednesday night&mdash;the
+people of Sugar Creek will think it very clever. When I first got
+the idea of illustrating the book review for Mrs. Mansfield, I
+didn't know how much cooperation you boys were going to give me."</p>
+
+<p>Things still didn't make sense&mdash;I couldn't understand it.</p>
+
+<p>On the way home, though, with Poetry and me carrying Pop's new
+light ladder and with Little Jim carrying our swing board, all of
+a sudden Dragonfly let out a yell and made a dive for something
+shining in the road, swooped down on it and picked it up, and
+exclaimed, "<i>Good luck!</i> No wonder we had good luck! here's a
+brand new horseshoe! No wonder we didn't get a lickin' from Mr.
+Black."</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 85 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span>And it was! I knew it must have come off Prince when he was
+running down this very same road about an hour ago with half a
+gate swinging on his bridle rein.</p>
+
+<p>Dragonfly hung the new horseshoe on his arm and said excitedly,
+"Will my mother ever be tickled! She'll hang it above our kitchen
+door. We've got three there now I found <i>last</i> year, and this is
+my first one <i>this year</i>. Boy oh boy, it's going to be a lucky
+year for the Sugar Creek Gang!"</p>
+
+<p>Little Jim who had been shuffling along, ahead of the rest of us,
+with the swing board under one arm and with his stick in his
+other hand, stopped all of a sudden and looked back over our
+heads toward where the sun had just gone behind a cloud in the
+southwest, and he had a far-away expression in his eyes. He
+didn't pay any attention to what Dragonfly had said, but dropped
+back beside me and said, "That certainly was a swell sermon
+yesterday. I knew maybe Sylvia's pop was going to preach about
+that, and sure enough he did."</p>
+
+<p>"About <i>what</i>?" I asked him, Little Jim being the only one of the
+gang that it was easy to talk about sermons with, except maybe
+Poetry.</p>
+
+<p>Little Jim socked at a brown mullein stalk with his stick, and
+scattered brown seeds in different directions, then he answered
+me with his back still turned, "Oh, about when you get Jesus in
+your heart, you don't get mad so easy, and when you do, you
+behave yourself anyway&mdash;just like a fire in a house melts the
+snow off the roof, or like when spring comes, the new leaves will
+push all of the old dead leaves off that've hung on all winter."</p>
+
+<p>Just that second Poetry who had the other end of the ladder,
+yelled back to me and said, "Quit walking so jerkily, Bill
+Collins!"</p>
+
+<p>Then I remembered that our teacher had been in church that
+morning, and of course he had heard the part of the sermon I
+hadn't heard, on account of I had been thinking about Poetry's
+pet lamb and Snow-white, our white pigeon.</p>
+
+<p>Then Little Jim said, "When I put that question in 'The
+Minister's Question Box,' just inside the church door this
+morning, I hoped Sylvia's pop would answer it in his very first
+sermon, and he did."</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 86 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span>So that was it! It was as plain as day to me now. Dragonfly spoke
+up then and said, "Was that what you were thinking about
+yesterday afternoon, when you were looking up in the beech tree
+at the bottom of Bumblebee hill, and when you kept talking about
+snow on people's houses?" and that was the first time I even
+guessed that that little spindle-legged guy knew what we were
+talking about.</p>
+
+<p>"Sure," Little Jim said.</p>
+
+<p>Dragonfly tossed his new horseshoe up in the air and caught it
+when it came down, and said, "It's a pretty horseshoe,
+anyway&mdash;besides, I bet the gang <i>does</i> have a lucky year, don't
+you?"</p>
+
+<p>Little Jim whispered to me something that was a real secret, and
+it made me like him awful well, to know he wasn't afraid to talk
+to me about it, and it was, "Do you suppose Mr. Black <i>really</i>
+became a Christian this morning while Sylvia's pop was
+preaching&mdash;or maybe he is just <i>going</i> to let Jesus into his
+heart, real soon?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know," I said.</p>
+
+<p>Poetry who didn't know what we were all talking about, on account
+of he was up at the other end of the kinda longish ladder, said
+back to us, "We shouldn't have carried this ladder home. We
+should have made Shorty Long and Bob Till do it. They took it
+there, in the first place!"</p>
+
+<p>And Little Jim piped up and said, "Are you <i>sure</i>? Maybe Mr.
+Black did it, so he could get a picture of it for next Wednesday
+night."</p>
+
+<p>Dragonfly heard that and said, "But who piled the chairs up on
+his desk and knocked the Christmas tree over and everything?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yeah, that's right," Little Jim said, "I guess maybe they did do
+it, but I'm not very mad at 'em."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not either," I said, "not <i>very</i> much, anyway," and I
+wasn't,&mdash;only I knew that as long as they lived in the
+neighborhood we could expect most anything to happen.</p>
+
+<p>Then Little Jim said to all of us. "As soon as the new cold wave
+is over, I'll bet it'll start to get warm, and pretty soon
+spring'll be here, and all the beech switches all along Sugar
+Creek will have new green leaves on 'em."</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 87 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span>Then Little Jim whisked on ahead of us, every now and then
+stopping to make rabbit tracks in the snow with his pretty
+striped ash stick.</p>
+
+<p>Boy oh boy, I wished it was already spring, 'cause when spring
+came we could all go barefoot again and as soon as Sugar Creek's
+face was thawed out, we'd go swimming in the old swimming hole
+and maybe have some very exciting brand new adventures, like we
+always do every spring and summer. The first thing I wanted to do
+when spring came, was to go fishing.</p>
+
+<p>I was thinking what fun it'd be when spring came, when all of a
+sudden, I heard a roaring sound coming from the direction of
+Dragonfly's pop's woods, like a terrible wind was beginning to
+blow through the bare trees. I looked up quick, and noticed that
+the sky in that direction was darkish looking and kinda brownish,
+like there was a lot of dust blowing in from some far-away
+prairie. Then I felt a gust of cold wind hit me hard in the face.</p>
+
+<p>In almost a half a jiffy all of us were in a whirling snowstorm,
+and I knew the new cold wave had already come, and that before
+spring got to Sugar Creek we'd have a lot more winter&mdash;in fact
+there might even be a blizzard.</p>
+
+<p>"Hurry up!" all of us yelled to all of us. "We've got to get home
+quick."</p>
+
+<p>But that's the beginning of another Sugar Creek Gang story, which
+I hope I'll get a chance to write for you real soon.</p>
+
+<p class="center"><br />THE END</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<div class="tnote">
+<h3>Transcriber's Note:</h3>
+
+<p> Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.
+copyright on this publication was renewed.</p>
+
+<p>Ellipses in this text have been standardized.</p>
+
+<p>Punctuation in the verse, the use of upper or lower case for
+"mom" and "pop", and occurrences of inconsistent hyphenation and/or
+compound words  where there existed no clear regular form (e.g.,
+"snow ball" and "snowball", "living-room" and "living room")
+have been retained to match the original text.</p>
+
+<p>Typographical errors and inconsistencies that have been changed are
+listed below.</p>
+
+<p>Page 16: Changed comma to period (<a href="#THS">The Hoosier
+Schoolmaster.</a>)</p>
+
+<p>Page 19: Changed "dilipidated" to "dilapidated" (<a href="#dilapidated">their
+dilapidated old unpainted house</a>).</p>
+
+<p>Page 20: Changed "heart" to "hear" (<a href="#hearaword">I couldn't hear a word</a>).</p>
+
+<p>Page 22: Changed "his" to "him" (<a href="#heardhim">I heard him mention my name</a>).</p>
+
+<p>Page 26: Changed "Bumblee" to "Bumblebee" (<a href="#Bumble">at the bottom of
+Bumblebee hill</a>).</p>
+
+<p>Page 28: Changed "So-ond-So" to "So-and-So" (<a href="#SoSo">Why yes, Mrs.
+So-and-So</a>).</p>
+
+<p>Page 40: Moved punctuation inside quote marks to match style of
+text (<a href="#dreaming">accusing me of doing, which is "dreaming."</a>).</p>
+
+<p>Page 41: Changed "we" to "me" (<a href="#mesupper">to make me wait for my supper</a>).</p>
+
+<p>Page 42: Removed duplicate word "and" (<a href="#plantgood">plant good seed in it, and
+cultivate</a>).</p>
+
+<p>Page 49: Changed "old Hook-nose" to "<a href="#OldHook">Old Hook-nosed</a>" (such a mean
+husband as Old Hook-nosed John Till).</p>
+
+<p>Page 51: Changed "bashful like" to "bashful-like" (<a href="#bashful">kinda bashful-like</a>).</p>
+
+<p>Page 52: Changed "you" to "your" (<a href="#yoursins">and confess your sins</a>).</p>
+
+<p>Page 56: Changed "ears" to "tears" (<a href="#tears">you can see the tears fly</a>).</p>
+
+<p>Page 61: Changed "Spindle-legged" to "spindle-legged" (<a href="#spindle">little
+spindle-legged Dragonfly</a>).</p>
+
+<p>Page 65: Added missing end punctuation (<a href="#thisway">He's looking this way!</a>).</p>
+
+<p>Page 68: Changed "day" to "way" (<a href="#waydown">have been on my way down</a>).</p>
+
+<p>Page 70: Changed "school house" to "schoolhouse" (<a href="#schoolhouse">on our side of
+the schoolhouse</a>).</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Page_75">Page 75</a>: Added alignment spaces to poem for consistency.</p>
+
+<p>Page 77: Changed "freckled-face" to "freckled face" (<a href="#freckled">and my
+freckled face and my rumpled red hair</a>).</p>
+
+<p>Page 81: Changed comma to period (<a href="#reallyangry">he was getting really angry.</a>)</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Shenanigans at Sugar Creek, by Paul Hutchens
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@@ -0,0 +1,3645 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Shenanigans at Sugar Creek, by Paul Hutchens
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Shenanigans at Sugar Creek
+
+Author: Paul Hutchens
+
+Release Date: December 6, 2008 [EBook #27426]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SHENANIGANS AT SUGAR CREEK ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Bryan Ness, C. St. Charleskindt, Scanned by
+Bryan Ness and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team
+at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+_Shenanigans at Sugar Creek_
+
+
+
+
+SHENANIGANS AT SUGAR CREEK
+
+by PAUL HUTCHENS
+
+
+
+
+_Copyright 1947, by Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Company_
+
+_Set up and printed, April, 1947_
+
+PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
+
+
+
+
+_Shenanigans at Sugar Creek_
+
+_By_
+
+PAUL HUTCHENS
+
+WM. B. EERDMANS PUBLISHING COMPANY
+
+GRAND RAPIDS   1947   MICHIGAN
+
+
+
+
+1
+
+
+One tough guy in the Sugar Creek territory was enough to keep us all
+on the lookout all the time for different kinds of trouble. We'd
+certainly had plenty with Big Bob Till, who, as you maybe know, was
+the big brother of Little Tom Till, our newest gang member.
+
+But when a new quick-tempered boy whose name was Shorty Long, moved
+into the neighborhood and started coming to our school, and when
+Shorty and Bob began to chum around together, we never knew whether
+we'd get through even one day without something happening to start a
+fight, or get one of the gang into trouble with our teacher. On top of
+that, we had a _new_ teacher, a _man_ teacher at that, who didn't
+exactly know that most of us tried to behave ourselves most of the
+time.
+
+Poetry, who is the barrel-shaped member of our gang, had made up a
+poem about our new teacher, whom not a one of us liked very well, on
+account of not wanting a _new_ teacher when we'd liked our pretty lady
+other teacher so _extra_ well. This is the way the poem went:
+
+  "_The Sugar Creek Gang had the worst of teachers
+    And 'Black' his named was called,
+  His round, red face had the homeliest of features,
+    He was fat and forty and bald._"
+
+Poetry was always writing a new poem or always quoting one somebody
+else wrote.
+
+Maybe it was a library book that was to blame for _some_ of the
+trouble we had in this story, though. I'm not quite sure, but the very
+minute my pal, Poetry, and I saw the picture in a book called _The
+Hoosier Schoolmaster_, we both had a very mischievous idea come into
+our minds, which we couldn't get out no matter how we tried....
+
+This is the way it happened.... Poetry and I were in his house, in
+fact, I was staying at his house all night one night, and just before
+we went to sleep, we sat up in his big bed for awhile, looking at the
+picture which was a full-paged glossy picture of a man school teacher
+away up on the roof of a country schoolhouse, and he was holding a
+wide board across the top of the chimney. The schoolhouse's only door
+was open and a gang of tough-looking boys was tumbling out, along with
+a lot of smoke.
+
+"Have you ever read the story?" I said to Poetry, and he said, "No,
+have you?" and when I said "No," we both read a part of it. The story
+was about a man teacher whose very bad boys in the school had locked
+him out of the building, and he had climbed up on the roof of the
+school and put a board across the chimney, and smoked them out just
+like a boy smokes a skunk out of a woodchuck den along Sugar Creek.
+
+_That_ put the idea in our heads, and it stayed there until a week or
+two after Christmas, before it got us into trouble.... Then just like
+a time-bomb exploding, all of a sudden that innocent idea which an
+innocent author had written in an innocent library book,
+exploded--and--Well, here goes the story.
+
+It was a swell Saturday afternoon at our house with bright sunlight on
+the snow and the weather just right for coasting. I was standing by
+our kitchen sink, getting ready to start wiping a big stack of dishes
+which my mom had just rinsed with steaming hot water out of the
+teakettle. I was just reaching for a drying towel when Mom said,
+"Better wash your hands first, Bill," which I had forgotten to do like
+I once in a while do. Right away I washed my hands with soap, in our
+bathroom, came back and grabbed the towel off the rack by the range,
+and started in carefully wiping the dishes, not exactly wanting to, on
+account of the clock on our mantel-shelf said it was one o'clock, and
+the gang was supposed to meet on Bumblebee hill right that very
+minute, with our sleds, and we were going to have the time of our
+lives coasting, and rolling in the snow, and making huge balls and
+snow men and everything....
+
+You should have seen those dishes fly--that is, they _started_ to!
+
+"Be careful," Mom said, and meant it. "Those are my best dinner
+plates."
+
+"I will," I said, and I was for a jiffy, but my mind wasn't anywhere
+near those fancy plates Mom was washing and I was wiping.... In fact,
+there wasn't any sense in washing them anyway, 'cause they weren't the
+ones we had used that day at all. Why they weren't even dirty! They'd
+been standing on the shelf in Mom's cupboard for several months
+without being used.
+
+"I don't see why we have to wash them," I said, "when they aren't even
+dirty."
+
+"We're going to have company for dinner tomorrow," Mom explained, "and
+we _have_ to wash them."
+
+"Wash them _before_ we use them?" I said. It didn't make sense.... Why
+that very minute the gang would be hollering and screaming and
+coasting down the hill and having a wonderful time.
+
+"Certainly," Mom said. "We want them to sparkle so that when the table
+is set and the guests come in they'll see how beautiful they really
+are. See? Notice how dull this one is?" Mom held up one that hadn't
+been washed yet in her hot sudsy water nor rinsed in my hot clear
+water nor wiped and polished with my dry clean towel, which Mom's tea
+towels always were anyway, Mom being an extra clean housekeeper and
+couldn't help it, on account of her mother had been that way too,--and
+being that kind of a housekeeper is contagious, like catching the
+measles or smallpox or the mumps or something boys don't like.
+
+For some reason I remembered a part of a book I'd read, called _Alice
+in Wonderland_, and it was about a crazy queen who started to cry and
+say, "Oh ooooh! My finger's bleeding!"... And when Alice who was _in_
+Wonderland told her to wrap her finger up or something, the queen
+said, "Oh no, I haven't pricked it yet"--meaning it was bleeding
+_before_ she had stuck a needle into it--which was a fairy story, and
+was crazy, so I said to Mom, "Seems funny to wash dishes _before_
+they're dirty--seems like a fairy story, like having your finger start
+bleeding before you stick a needle in it." I knew Mom had read _Alice
+in Wonderland_ 'cause she'd read it to me herself when I was little.
+
+But Mom was very smart. She said, with a mischievous grin in her
+voice, "That's a splendid idea.... Let's _pretend_ this is _Bill
+Collins in Wonderland_, and get the dishes done right away. Fairy
+stories are always interesting, don't you think?" which I didn't,
+right then, but there wasn't any use arguing. In fact, Mom said it
+wasn't ever polite, so I quit, and said, "Who's coming for dinner
+tomorrow?" wondering if it might be some of the gang, and hoping it
+would be. I didn't know a one of the gang that would notice whether
+the dishes sparkled or not, although most of the gang's _Moms_
+probably would.
+
+"Oh--a surprise," Mom said.
+
+"Who?" I said. "My cousin Wally and his new baby sister?" As you know,
+if you've read _A New Sugar Creek Mystery_, I had a homely, red-haired
+cousin, named Walford, who lived in the city, who had a new baby
+sister. Mom had been to see the baby, and also Pop, but I hadn't, and
+didn't want to, and certainly didn't exactly want to see my red-haired
+cousin, Wally, but _would_ like to see his crazy Airedale dog, and if
+Wally _was_ coming, I hoped he would bring the wire-haired dog
+along....
+
+"It's a surprise," Mom said, and right that minute there was a whistle
+outside our house and at our front gate. I looked over the top of my
+stack of steaming dishes out through a clear place in the frosted
+window, and saw a fat-faced barrel-shaped boy standing with one hand
+which had a red mitten on it, holding onto a sled rope, and he was
+lifting up the latch on our wide gate with the other red-mittened
+hand....
+
+There was another boy there, who, I could tell without hardly looking,
+was Dragonfly, on account of he is spindle-legged and has large eyes
+like a dragonfly's eyes are. Dragonfly had on a brand new cap with
+ear-muffs on it. As you maybe know, Dragonfly was always getting the
+gang into trouble, on account of he always was doing such crazy things
+without thinking. He also was allergic to nearly everything and was
+always sneezing at the wrong time, just when we were supposed to be
+quiet. Also, he was about the only one in the gang whose mother was
+superstitious,--such as thinking it is bad luck if a black cat
+crosses the road in front of you, or good luck if you find a horseshoe
+and hang it above one of the doors in your house.
+
+Just as Poetry had the latch of the wide gate lifted, I saw Dragonfly
+make a quick move, step with one foot on the iron pipe at the bottom
+of the gate's frame and give the gate a shove, and jump on with the
+other foot and ride on the gate while it was swinging open, which was
+something Pop wouldn't let _me_ do, and which any boy shouldn't do, on
+account of if he keeps on doing it, it will make the gate sag, and
+maybe drag on the ground....
+
+Well, for a jiffy I forgot there was a window between me and the
+out-of-doors, and also that my mom was beside me, and also that my
+baby sister, Charlotte Ann, was asleep in Mom's bedroom in her baby
+bed, and without thinking I yelled real loud, "Hey, Dragonfly, you
+crazy goof! Don't DO that!"
+
+Right away I remembered Charlotte Ann was in the other room, on
+account of mom told me and also on account of Charlotte Ann woke up
+and made the kind of a noise a baby always makes when she wakes up and
+doesn't want to.
+
+Just that second, the gate Dragonfly was on was as wide open as it
+could go, and Dragonfly who didn't have a very good hold with his
+hands--and the gate being icy anyway--slipped off and went sprawling
+head over heels into a snowdrift in our yard....
+
+It was a funny sight, but not very funny 'cause I heard my pop's great
+big voice calling from our barn, yelling something that sounded like
+he sounds when somebody has done something he shouldn't and is
+supposed to quit quick, or I'd be sorry.
+
+I made a dive for our back door, swung it open, and with one of my
+Mom's good plates still in my hands, and without my hat on, I rushed
+out on our back board walk and yelled to Poetry and Dragonfly, and
+said, "I'll be there in about an hour! I've got to finish tomorrow's
+dishes first! Better go on down the hill and tell the gang I'll be
+there in maybe an hour or two," which is what is called sarcasm.
+
+And Poetry yelled, "We'll come and help you!"
+
+But it wasn't a good idea, 'cause the kitchen door was still open and
+Mom heard me and also heard Poetry and said to me, "Bill Collins, come
+back in here.... The very idea! I can't have those boys coming in
+with all that snow. I've just scrubbed the floor!" which is why they
+didn't come in, and also why barrel-shaped Poetry and spindle-legged
+Dragonfly started building a snow man right in our front yard, while
+they waited for me and Mom to finish playing _Alice in Wonderland_.
+
+Pretty soon I was done, though, and grabbed my coat from its hook in
+the corner of the kitchen, pulled my hat on my red head, with the
+ear-muffs tucked inside, on account of it wasn't a very cold day, but
+was warm enough for the snow to pack good and for making snow balls
+and snow men and everything. I put on my boots at the door, said
+"Good-bye" to Mom and went swishing out through the snow to Poetry and
+Dragonfly. I could already hear the rest of the gang yelling down on
+Bumblebee hill, so I grabbed my sled rope which was right beside our
+back door, and the three of us went as fast as we could through our
+gate.
+
+My pop was there, looking at the gate to see if Dragonfly had been too
+heavy for it, and just as we left, he said, "Never ride on a gate,
+boys, if you want to live long."
+
+His voice was kinda fierce, like it sometimes is, and he was looking
+at Dragonfly; then he looked at me and winked, and I knew he wasn't
+mad but still didn't want any boy to be dumb enough to ride on our
+gate again.
+
+"Yes sir, Mr. Collins," Dragonfly said politely, and grabbed his sled
+rope and started on the run across the road to a place in the rail
+fence where I always climbed through on my way to the woods.
+
+"Wait a minute!" Pop said, and we waited.
+
+His big bushy eyebrows were straight across, so I knew he liked us all
+right. "What?" I said, and he said, "You boys know, of course, that
+your new teacher, Mr. Black, is going to keep on teaching the Sugar
+Creek School--that the board can't ask him to resign just because the
+boys in the school liked their other teacher better, nor because he
+has had to punish several of them with old-fashioned beech
+switches...."
+
+Imagine my Pop saying such things, just when we had been thinking
+about having a lot of fun....
+
+"Yes sir," I said to Pop, remembering the beech switches behind the
+teacher's desk.
+
+"Yes sir," Poetry said politely.
+
+"Yes sir," Dragonfly yelled to him from the rail fence where he was
+already half-way through.
+
+We all hurried through the fence, and yelling and running and panting,
+we dragged our sleds through the woods to Bumblebee hill to where the
+gang was yelling and having a lot of fun.
+
+Well, we coasted for a long time, all of us. Even Little Tom Till, the
+red-haired, freckled-faced little brother of Big Bob Till who was Big
+Jim's worst enemy, was there. Time flew faster than anything, when all
+of a sudden Circus who had rolled a big snowball down the hill, said,
+"Let's make a snow man--let's make Mr. Black"--which sounded like more
+fun, so we all started in, not knowing that Circus was going to make a
+_comic_ snow man, the most ridiculous looking snow man I'd ever seen,
+and not knowing something else very exciting which I'm going to tell
+you about just as quick as I can get to it in this story.
+
+
+
+
+2
+
+
+It was the craziest snow man I had ever seen when we got through. It
+didn't have any legs on account of we had to use a very large snowball
+for its foundation, but it had another even-larger snowball for its
+stomach, on account of our new teacher was _round_ in the middle,
+especially in front, and it had a smaller head. Circus, whose idea it
+was to make it funny, had dashed home to our house and gotten some
+corn silk out of our crib and had made hair for the man's head,
+putting it all around the sides of the top of its head, but not
+putting any in the middle of the top, nor in the front, so it looked
+like an honest-to-goodness bald-headed man.... Then, while different
+ones of us were putting a row of buttons on his coat, which were black
+walnuts which we stuck into the snow in his stomach, Circus and
+Dragonfly disappeared, leaving only Poetry and Little Jim and Little
+Tom Till and me, that being all the rest of the gang that was there,
+on account of Big Jim had had to go with his pop that afternoon to
+take a load of cattle to the city.
+
+I was sitting down on my sled which was crosswise on the top of Little
+Jim's, which was crosswise on the top of Poetry's, making my seat just
+about knee high. Our snow man was at the bottom of the hill and not
+very far from us was a beech tree. Little Jim was standing there under
+its low-hanging branches, looking up into it, like he was thinking
+something very important which he nearly always is, Little Jim being
+the best Christian in the gang and always thinking and sometimes
+saying something he had learned in church or that his parents taught
+him from the Bible. There were nearly half of the leaves still on the
+tree in spite of its being winter and nearly every other tree in the
+woods was as bare as Old Mother Hubbard's cupboard. It was a beech
+tree and that kind of a tree nearly always keeps a lot of its old
+frost-bitten brown leaves on nearly all winter, and only drops them
+off in the spring when the new leaves start to come, and push them
+off.
+
+It was the same tree where one summer day, there had been a big old
+mother bear and her cub. I, all of a sudden, while I was sitting there
+on my stack of sleds was remembering that fight we'd had with the old
+fierce old mad old mother bear.
+
+Anyway right that very minute while I was remembering the whole story,
+and I guessed maybe Little Jim was remembering it also, everything was
+so quiet, I said to Little Jim, "I bet you're thinking about how you
+killed a bear right there."
+
+Little Jim who had his stick, which he always carried with him, said,
+"Nope, something else."
+
+Poetry spoke up from where he was standing beside Mr. Black's snow
+statue, and said, "I'll bet you're thinking about the little cub which
+you had for a pet after you killed the bear."
+
+Little Jim took a swipe with his stick at the trunk of the tree, and I
+noticed that his stick went ker-whack right on some initials on the
+tree which said, W. J. C., which meant "William Jasper Collins," which
+is my full name, only nobody ever calls me by the _middle_ name except
+my pop, who calls me that only when he doesn't like me or when I'm
+supposed to have done something I shouldn't. Then Little Jim said to
+Poetry, just as his stick ker-whammed the initials, "Nope, something
+else." Then he whirled around and started making tracks that looked
+like rabbit tracks in the snow with his stick, and Tom Till spoke up
+and said, "I'll bet you're thinking about the fight we had that
+day...."
+
+It was in that fight that I licked Little red-haired Tom Till, who
+with his big brother Bob had belonged to the other gang.... But now
+Little Tom's parents lived in our neighborhood and Tom had joined the
+gang, and also went to our Sunday School, and was a swell little guy;
+and as you maybe know, Bob was still a tough guy, and hated Big Jim
+and all of us, and we never knew when he was going to start some new
+trouble in the Sugar Creek territory....
+
+"Well," I said, to Little Jim who was looking up into the tree again
+like he was still thinking something important, "what _are_ you
+thinking about?" and he said, "I was just thinking about all the
+leaves, and wondering why they didn't fall off like the ones on the
+maple trees do. Don't they know they're dead?"
+
+I looked at the tree Little Jim was looking at, and it was the first
+time I'd noticed that the beech tree still had nearly every one of its
+leaves on it. They were very brown, even browner than some of the
+maple and walnut tree leaves had been, when they'd all fallen off last
+fall.
+
+"How could they _know_ they're dead, if they _are_ dead?" Poetry said,
+and just that second I heard Circus and Dragonfly coming up from the
+direction of the bayou, which was down pretty close to Sugar Creek
+itself.... Circus had his knife in his hand and was just finishing
+trimming a small branch he had in his hand, Dragonfly had a long
+fierce-looking switch in one of _his_ hands, and was swinging it
+around and saying loud and fierce, "All right, Bill Collins, you can
+take a licking for throwing that snowball.... Take _that_ ... and
+_that_ ... and _that_...." Dragonfly was making fierce swings with his
+switch and grunting every time he swung and every time he said
+"that...."
+
+I knew what he was thinking about,--the snowball I'd thrown in our
+schoolyard that week, which had accidentally hit our new teacher right
+in the middle of the top of his bald head....
+
+Well, in a jiffy, Circus had both those switches stuck into the snow
+man, right where his right hand was supposed to be.... Then, he
+reached into his pocket, and pulled out an ear of corn, and as quick
+as anything began to shell it ... shoving handfulls of the big yellow
+kernels into his pocket at the same time, and a jiffy later, all that
+was left was a long red corn-cob, which he broke in half and stuck one
+of the halves into the snowman's face for a nose.
+
+Then also as quick as anything, he took the other half of the red
+corn-cob and with his knife made a hole in its side near the bottom,
+took a small stick out of his pocket, stuck it into the cob! "What on
+earth?" I thought, and said so, but he said, "All right, everybody,
+shut your eyes," which we wouldn't, so we watched him finish what he
+was doing, which was making a pipe for the snow man to smoke.... A
+jiffy later, there it was, sticking into the snow man's snow face
+right under his nose--a corn-cob pipe.... It looked very funny, and
+for a jiffy we all laughed, all except Little Jim who just giggled a
+little.
+
+We all stood back and looked at it, and it was the funniest looking
+snow man I'd ever seen.... Brown hair all around his head, and none in
+the middle of the top or the front, and a big red nose, and a corn-cob
+pipe sticking out at an angle, and black walnuts for buttons on his
+coat, and a couple of fierce-looking switches in his hand. Also there
+were two thin corn silk eyebrows that curled up a little....
+
+"There's only one thing wrong with it," Poetry said, in his duck-like
+voice, standing beside me and squinting up at the ridiculous looking
+snow man.
+
+"What?" I said, thinking how perfect it was.
+
+"You can't tell who it is supposed to be. It needs some extra
+identification."
+
+"It's perfect," I said, and looked at Little Jim to see if he didn't
+think the same thing, but he was looking up into the beech tree again,
+like he was still thinking about something mysterious and wasn't
+interested in an ordinary snow man. I looked toward Dragonfly and he
+was listening toward a half dozen little cedar trees in the direction
+of the bayou, like he was either seeing or hearing something, which he
+thought he was, for right that second he said, "Psst, gang, quiet! I
+think I saw something move over there--sh! Don't look now, or he'll--"
+
+We all looked, of course, but didn't see anything, although I had a
+funny feeling inside of me which was, "What if it's Mr. Black watching
+us? What if all of a sudden he should come walking out from behind
+those cedar trees and see the snow man we've made of him, and what if
+he'd decide to use one or two of the switches on us?"--not a one of us
+being sure he didn't like us well enough to do that to us.
+
+Poetry spoke up then and said, "I say, it's not quite perfect. There's
+one thing wrong with it, and I'm going to fix that right this very
+minute." With that remark, he pulled off one of his red mittens,
+shoved one of his fat hands inside his coat pocket, pulled something
+out, and started to shuffle toward Mr. Black's snow statue. I could
+hardly believe my eyes at what I saw, but there it was as plain as
+day, a red, cloth-bound book with gold letters on it which said, _The
+Hoosier Schoolmaster_. I knew right away it was the book he and I had
+seen in his library one night and had read part of it, that part
+especially where the tough gang of boys in the story had caused the
+teacher a lot of trouble, and had locked him out of the schoolhouse;
+and then the teacher, who had been very smart, had climbed up on top
+of the school and put a flat board across the top of the chimney, and
+the smoke which couldn't get out of the chimney had poured out of the
+stove inside, and all the tough gang of boys had been smoked out....
+
+"What are you going to do?" I said to Poetry, and he said, "Nothing,"
+and right away was doing it, which was sticking two sticks in the snow
+man's stomach side by side and then opening _The Hoosier Schoolmaster_
+to the place where there was the picture of the teacher on the roof,
+and laying the book flat open across the two sticks.
+
+"There you are, Sir," Poetry said, talking to the snow man. "The
+Hoosier Schoolmaster himself." Then Poetry made a bow as low as he
+could, he being so fat he grunted every time he stooped over very far.
+
+Well, it was funny, and most of us laughed, Circus scooped up a
+snowball and started to throw it at it, but we all stopped him on
+account of not wanting to have all our hard work spoiled in a few
+minutes. Besides, Poetry all of a sudden, wanted to take a picture of
+it, and his camera was at his house which was away down past the
+sycamore tree and the cave, where we all wanted to go for a while to
+see Old Man Paddler. So we decided to leave Mr. Black out there by
+himself at the bottom of Bumblebee hill until we came back later,
+which we did.
+
+"He ought to have a hat on," Dragonfly said. "He'll catch his death of
+cold with his bald head."
+
+"Or he might get stung on the head by a bumblebee," Circus said, and
+Little Jim spoke up all of a sudden and said, like he was almost mad
+at us, "Can anybody help it that he gets bald? My pop's beginning to
+lose some of his hair on top...." Then he grabbed his stick which he
+had leaned up against the beech tree for a jiffy, and struck very
+fiercely at a tall brown mullein stalk that was standing there in a
+little open space, and the seeds scattered in every direction, one of
+them hitting me hard right on my freckled face just below my right
+eye, and stung like everything; then Little Jim started running as
+fast as he could go in the direction of the sycamore tree, like he had
+been mad at us for something we'd done wrong. In fact, when he said
+that, I felt a kind of a sickish feeling inside of me, like maybe I
+_had_ done something wrong. I grabbed my stick and started off on the
+run after Little Jim, calling out to the rest of the gang to hurry up,
+and saying, "Last one to the sycamore tree is a cow's tail," and in a
+jiffy we were running and jumping and diving around bushes and trees
+and leaping over snow-covered brushpiles toward the old sycamore tree
+and the mouth of the cave, which was there, and which as you know is a
+very long cave, and comes out at the other end in the cellar of Old
+Man Paddler's cabin.
+
+
+
+
+3
+
+
+Of course everybody knows about Old Man Paddler, the kindest old long
+whiskered old man who ever lived, and who was the best friend the
+Sugar Creek Gang ever had. He lived up in the hills above Sugar Creek,
+and almost every week the gang went up to see him--sometimes in the
+summer-time we went nearly every day. We went in the winter, too, on
+account of he lived all by himself and we had to go up to take him
+things which our moms were always cooking for him, and also we had to
+be sure he didn't get sick 'cause there wouldn't be anybody there to
+take care of him or call the doctor for him on account of he didn't
+have any telephone....
+
+After a little while we were tired of running so fast, so we slowed
+down, it being easier to be a cow's tail than to get all out of
+breath. Poetry and I were side by side most of the time with Little
+Jim walking along behind us and with Little Tom Till and Circus and
+Dragonfly swishing on ahead of us. Once when Little red-haired Tom and
+Little Jim were beside each other behind Poetry and me, I heard Little
+Jim say to red-haired Tom, "Mom says for you to be ready a little
+early tomorrow morning, on account of the choir has to practice their
+anthem again before they sing."
+
+I knew what Little Jim was talking about 'cause his folks stopped at
+Tom's house every Sunday morning about nine o'clock, and Little Tom
+got in and rode to Sunday School with them in their big maroon and
+grey car. Little Jim's very pretty mom was the pianist at our church,
+and had to be always on time. Little Jim's words came out kinda
+jerkily like he was doing something that made him short of breath
+while he talked. I turned around quick to see, and sure enough, he was
+shuffling along, making rabbit tracks with his stick, and saying his
+words every punch of his stick into the snow.
+
+Little Tom answered Little Jim by saying, "O de koke," which is the
+same as saying, "Okey doke," which means "O.K." which is what most
+anybody says when he means "All right," meaning Tom Till would be
+ready early, and that when Little Jim's folks came driving up to their
+front gate tomorrow, Little Tom, with his best clothes on, would come
+running out of their dilapidated old unpainted house, carrying his New
+Testament, which Old Man Paddler had bought for him.... Then they'd
+all swish away together to Sunday School.
+
+Then I heard Little Jim ask something else which showed what a grand
+little guy he was. "S'pose maybe your mother would like to go with us,
+too?"
+
+"My mother would _like_ to go with us," Tom said to Little Jim, "but
+she doesn't have any clothes that're good enough." And knowing the
+reason why was because her husband drank up nearly all the money he
+made in the Sugar Creek beer taverns, and also drank whiskey which he
+bought in the liquor store--knowing that, I felt my teeth gritting
+hard and I took a fierce swing with the stick I was carrying, at a
+little maple tree beside me.... I socked that tree so fierce with my
+stick, that my hands stung so bad they were almost numb; the stick
+broke in the middle and one end of it flew ahead to where Circus and
+Dragonfly were and nearly hit them.
+
+"Hey, you!" Dragonfly yelled back toward us, "What you trying to
+do--kill us?"
+
+"What on _earth_!" Circus yelled back to me, and I stood looking at
+the broken end of the rest of the stick in my hand, then turned like a
+flash and whirled around and threw it as hard as I could straight
+toward another tree about twenty feet away. That broken stick hit the
+tree right in the center of its trunk, with a loud whack.
+
+I didn't answer them in _words_ at all. I was so mad at Tom's pop and
+at beer and whiskey and stuff.
+
+But I couldn't waste all my temper on something I couldn't help, so I
+kept still and we all went on to the cave, and went in, and followed
+its long narrow passageway clear through, until we came to the big
+wooden door which opened into Old Man Paddler's cellar. As soon as we
+got there, Circus, who was always the leader of our gang when Big Jim
+wasn't with us, stopped us, and made us keep still, then he knocked on
+the door--three knocks, then two, then three more, then two, which was
+the code the gang always used when we came, so Old Man Paddler would
+know it was us.
+
+If he was home, he would call down and say in his quavering old voice,
+"Who's there?" and we'd answer, and right away we'd hear his trap door
+in the floor of his house open, and hear his steps coming down his
+stairway and hear him lift the big wooden latch that held the door
+shut, and then when he'd see us, he'd say, "Well, well, well, well,
+the Sugar Creek Gang--" then he'd name every one of us by our
+nicknames, and say, "Come on in, boys, we'll have some sassafras tea,"
+which all of us, especially Little Jim, liked so very much.
+
+Everything was quiet while Circus knocked ... three times, then two,
+then three, and then two again, while we all waited and listened.
+There was always something kinda spooky about that knock, and being in
+a cave I always felt a little queer until I heard the old man's voice
+answer us. In fact, I always felt creepy until we got inside the cabin
+and the trap door was down again.
+
+We all stood there, outside that big wooden door, waiting for Old Man
+Paddler to call down to us, but there wasn't a single sound, so Circus
+knocked again: three times, then two, then three, and then two again,
+and we all waited. Except for my little pocket flashlight which my pop
+had given me for Christmas, we didn't have any light, and we couldn't
+waste the battery by keeping it on all the time, so I turned it off,
+but it felt so spooky with it off and nobody answering Circus's knock
+that I turned it on again just as Dragonfly who was always hearing
+things first, said, "Psst!" which meant "I heard something mysterious!
+Everybody keep still a minute," which we did; and then as plain as day
+I heard it myself, an old man's voice talking. It was high pitched and
+quavering, and kinda sad-like, like he was begging somebody to do
+something for him....
+
+We were all so quiet as mice, not a one of us moving or hardly
+breathing.... I couldn't hear a word the old man was saying, but he
+sounded like he needed help.... I remembered how we'd all saved his
+life two different times--once when a robber had tied him up and he'd
+have starved if we hadn't found him, and another time when he'd fallen
+down his cellar steps in the winter-time and his fire had gone out,
+and we had started a fire for him with punk, using the thick lenses of
+his reading glasses for a magnifying glass--which any boy can do if he
+can get some real dry punk and a magnifying glass.... First you focus
+the red hot light which shines from the sun through the magnifying
+glass, right on the punk until it makes a little smoking live coal,
+then you hold a piece of dry paper against the red glow on the punk,
+and blow and blow with your breath until all of a sudden there will be
+an honest to goodness flame of fire....
+
+Say, when I heard Old Man Paddler half talking and half crying up
+there in his cabin, I got a very queer feeling inside of me....
+
+"Quick!" Circus said, "He's in trouble. Let's go in and help him."
+Circus gave a shove on the door, turning the latch at the same time,
+but the door wouldn't budge.
+
+"It's barred," Poetry said, and I remembered the heavy bar on the
+inside which the old man always dropped into place whenever he was
+inside.
+
+"Sh! Listen!" Little Jim said, and we shushed and listened.
+
+Say, that little guy had his ear pressed up real close to a crack in
+the door, and in the light of my flashlight which I didn't shine right
+straight _on_ his face on account of it might blind him, I could see
+that his eyes had a very far away look in them, like he was thinking
+something important and maybe in his mind's eyes was seeing something
+even more important.
+
+"What is it?" I said to him, and he said, "Don't worry, he's all
+right. He doesn't need our help--here, listen yourself," which I did,
+and right away I knew Little Jim was right.... For this is what I
+heard the old man saying in his quavering, high-pitched voice, "...
+And please, You're the best friend I ever had, letting me live all
+these long years, taking care of me, keeping me well and strong and
+happy most of the time. But I'm getting lonesome now, getting older
+every day, getting so I can't walk without a cane, and I can't stand
+the cold weather anymore, and I know it won't be long before I'll have
+to move out of this crippled-up old house and come to live with You
+in a new place.... I'll be awful glad to see Sarah again, and my
+boys.... And that reminds me,--Please bless the boys who live and play
+along old Sugar Creek--all of 'em--Big Jim, Little Jim, Circus,
+Dragonfly, Poetry, Bill Collins...."
+
+I knew what the kind man was doing all right, 'cause I'd seen and
+heard him do it many a time in our little white church, and also I'd
+seen him doing it once down on his knees behind the old sycamore tree
+all by himself.... When I heard him mention my name, I gulped, and
+some crazy tears got into my eyes and into my voice.... I had to
+swallow to keep from choking out a word that would have let the gang
+know I was about to cry.... Like a flash I thought of something and I
+whirled around and grabbed Little Tom Till and shoved his ear down to
+the crack in the door and put my own ear just above his so I could
+hear too, and this is what the old man was saying up there in the
+cabin, "And also bless the new member of the gang, Tom Till, whose
+father is an infidel and spends his money on liquor and gambling....
+Oh God, how can John Till expect his boys to keep from turning out to
+be criminals.... Bless his boy, Bob, whose life has been so bent and
+twisted by his father.... And bless the boys' poor mother, who hasn't
+had a chance in life.... Lord, you know she'd go to church and be a
+Christian if John would let her.... And please...."
+
+That was as far as I got to listen right that minute cause I heard
+somebody choke and gulp and all of a sudden Little Tom Till was
+sniffling like he had tears in his eyes and in his voice, and then
+that little guy who was the grandest little guy who ever had a
+drunkard for a father, started to sob out-loud like he was
+heart-broken, and couldn't help himself.
+
+I got the strangest feeling inside of me like I do when anybody cries,
+and I wanted to help him stop crying and didn't know what to do.
+
+"'Smatter?" Dragonfly said, and Tom said, "I want to go home!"
+
+"'Smatter?" Circus said, "Are you sick?"
+
+"Yeah, what's the matter?" Poetry's duck-like voice squawked, but
+Little Jim was a smart little guy and he said, "He doesn't feel well.
+Let's all take him home."
+
+"I'll go b-b-by m-m-myself," Little Tom said, and started back into
+the cave, but I knew it was too dark for him to see, so I grabbed his
+arm and pulled him back. "We'll all go with you."
+
+"But we wanted to see Old Man Paddler," Dragonfly said, "What's the
+use to go home? I want some sassafras tea."
+
+"Keep still," I said, "Tom's sick. He ought to go home." I knew Little
+Tom was terribly embarrassed, and that he'd be like a little scared
+rabbit if we took him into Old Man Paddler's cabin now.
+
+We must have made a lot of noise talking 'cause right that minute I
+heard Old Man Paddler's voice up there calling down to us, "Wait a
+minute, boys! I'll be right down...."
+
+Well, it would have been impolite to run away now, and so I whispered
+to Tom, "Me and Little Jim are the only ones who heard him praying
+and--and we--we like you anyway." I gave Tom a kinda fierce half a hug
+around his shoulder, just as I heard Old Man Paddler's trap door in
+the floor of his house opening, and a shaft of light came in through
+the crack in the door right in front of us.... In a jiffy our door
+would open too, and we'd see that kind old long whiskered old man,
+with his twinkling grey eyes, and pretty soon we'd all climb up the
+cellar steps and be inside his warm cabin with a fire crackling in his
+fireplace and with the teakettle on the stove for making sassafras
+tea, and the old man would be telling us a story about the Sugar Creek
+of long ago....
+
+All of a sudden, I got the strangest warm feeling inside of me, and I
+felt so good, something just bubbled up in my heart.... It was the
+queerest feeling, and made me feel good all over, 'cause right that
+second one of Little Tom's arms reached out and gave me a very awkward
+half a hug real quick, like he was very bashful or something, but like
+he was saying, "You're my best friend, Bill.... I'd lick the stuffin's
+out of the biggest bum in the world for you, in fact I'd do
+_anything_."
+
+But his arm didn't stay more'n just time enough for him to let it fall
+to his side again, but I knew he liked me a lot and it was a wonderful
+feeling.
+
+Right that second, I heard the old man lift the bar on the big wooden
+door, and push it open, and real bright light came in and shone all
+over all of us, and the old man said, "Well, well, well, well, the
+Sugar Creek Gang! Come on in, boys, we'll have a party."
+
+A jiffy later, we were all inside his cellar, and scrambling up his
+cellar steps into his warm cabin.
+
+
+
+
+4
+
+
+It didn't take more'n several jiffies for all of us to be inside that
+old-fashioned cabin, where there was a crackling fire in his fireplace
+and another fire roaring in his kitchen stove and where there was a
+teakettle singing like everything, meaning that pretty soon we'd have
+some sassafras tea. In fact, as soon as the trap-door was down and we
+were all sitting or standing or half lying down on his couch and on
+chairs, the old man put some sassafras chips from sassafras tree-roots
+into a pan on the stove and poured boiling water on it, and let it
+start to boil. Almost right away the water began to turn as red as the
+chips themselves and Little Jim's eyes grew very bright as he watched
+the water boil.
+
+One of the first things I noticed when I looked around the room a
+little was the old man's Bible which was open to the Sunday School
+lesson, like maybe he'd been studying, getting ready for church
+tomorrow. I knew it was tomorrow's lesson 'cause at our house we had
+already studied the same lesson two or three times, on account of Mom
+and Pop always started to study next week's lesson a whole week ahead
+of time, so, as Pop says, "different ideas will come popping into
+our heads all week long even while we're working or studying or
+something." I knew Little Jim's parents always started studying their
+lessons the first thing in the week, also, and maybe that was why that
+little guy was always thinking of so many things that were important.
+
+From where I was sitting, I could look through a clear place in the
+old man's kitchen window which didn't have any frost on it, and I
+could see the shadow the smoke was making which was coming out of the
+chimney, and the longish darkish shadow was moving up the side of the
+old man's woodshed out there, and on up the slant of the snow-covered
+roof, making me think of a great big long darkish worm twisting and
+squirming and crawling up a stick in the summer-time.... There must
+have been almost a foot of snow on the roof of that woodshed, I
+thought, and that reminded me of the snow man at the bottom of
+Bumblebee hill, and when I noticed that the shadows of the trees out
+there were getting very long it meant that it wouldn't be long till
+the sun went down, and if Poetry and I were to get a good picture of
+Mr. Black's snow statue, we'd have to hurry.
+
+Old Man Paddler all of a sudden spoke up and said to us, looking
+especially at me, "One of you boys want to take the water pail and go
+down to the spring and get a pail of fresh water?" which I didn't
+exactly want to do, on account of it was very warm in the cabin and
+would be very cold out there, but when Little Jim piped up and said,
+"Sure, I'll do it," I all of a sudden said the same thing, and Little
+Jim and I were out there in less than a jiffy, with the old man's
+empty pail in one of my hands, and were galloping along through the
+snow toward the spring, which was right close to a big spreading beech
+tree, which, like the one at the bottom of Bumblebee hill, still had
+most of its old brown leaves on it....
+
+We filled the pail real quick with the sparkling, very cold water, and
+hurried back to the cabin. I started to open the door, when Little Jim
+said, "Wait a minute, I want to see something," and he swished around
+quick and went back down the path toward the spring, and turned around
+again and looked up toward the chimney of the old man's cabin. He
+squinted his eyes to keep the sun from blinding them and looked and
+looked, then he looked away in the direction of the woodshed, and I
+wondered what in the world that little guy was thinking.
+
+"'Smatter?" I said, and he said, "Nothing,--there's certainly a lot of
+snow on the roof of that woodshed, and there isn't any on the old
+man's cabin. How come?" Then he socked a stump with his stick, and
+came lickety-sizzle to the door, opened it for me to go in with the
+pail of water, which I did.
+
+Well, as soon as we got through with our sassafras tea, which Little
+Jim said tasted like a very sweet hot lolly pop, we all scrambled
+around in the old man's cabin getting ready to go home. If it had been
+in the summer-time, we would have gone home the long way round,
+following the old wagon trail, and then we'd have taken a short cut
+through the swamp, and if it had been summer-time maybe stopped at the
+big mulberry tree and climbed up into it and helped ourselves to the
+biggest, ripest mulberries that grew anywhere along Sugar Creek. But
+it wasn't summer, so we took the short cut, going through the cave to
+the sycamore tree, where most of us separated and went in different
+directions to our different homes, all except Poetry and me, who, as
+you know, were going to get his camera and take a picture of Mr.
+Black's snow statue, his parents having bought a new camera for him at
+Christmas.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Well, well," Poetry's mother said to us when we stopped beside their
+big maple tree, and I waited a jiffy for him to go in the house and
+get the camera, "_where_ have you boys been? I've been phoning all
+over for you, Leslie"--meaning she had been phoning all over for
+Poetry, _Leslie_ being the name which his parents used and which he
+had to use himself when he signed his name in school ... but he would
+rather be called Poetry.
+
+"'Smatter?" Poetry asked his kinda round-shaped mom, "Didn't I do my
+chores, or something?"
+
+Then Poetry's mother startled us by saying, "We've had company. Mr.
+Black was here. He just left a minute ago."
+
+I had a queer feeling start creeping up my spine.
+
+"What did he want--I mean, where did he go? Where'd you tell him we
+were?" Poetry and I both said at the same time only in different
+words, but with probably the same scared feeling inside, and thinking,
+"What if she told him we were playing over on Bumblebee hill and he
+had gone there?"
+
+"He didn't seem to want anything in particular. He was out exercising
+his horse. Such a beautiful big brown saddle horse!" Poetry's mother
+said. "And such a very beautiful saddle. He looks very stunning in his
+brown leather jacket and riding boots."
+
+"What did he want?" Poetry said again, taking the words right out of
+my mind, and Poetry's mom said, "Nothing in particular. He said he
+wanted to get acquainted with the parents of his boys."
+
+I looked at Poetry and he looked at me, and he said to his mom, "He's
+too heavy for the horse," and his mother looked at Poetry who was also
+heavy and said, "Too much blackberry pie, I suppose. You boys want a
+piece?"
+
+Poetry's face lit up, and he said, "We'll take a piece apiece," which
+we did, and then I said to him all of a sudden, "The sun'll still be
+shining on Mr. Black. If we want to get his picture, we'll have to
+hurry!"
+
+"Shining on _who_?" Poetry's mom said, and Poetry said, "The sun is
+shining in through the window on my blackberry pie," and winked at me,
+and his mom went into their parlor to answer the phone which was
+ringing.
+
+Poetry finished his pie at the same time, slithered out of his chair
+and went up stairs to his room to get his camera, just as I heard his
+mother say into their telephone, "Why yes, Mrs. Mansfield, we
+do--certainly, I'll send Leslie right over with it right away--oh,
+that's all right--no, he won't mind, I'm sure."
+
+It sounded like an ordinary conversation any mother might have with
+any ordinary neighbor. I'd heard my mom say something like that many a
+time, the only difference being she would say, "Why yes, Mrs.
+So-and-So, we have it. I'll send _Bill_ over with it right away--oh,
+that's all right--no, he won't mind, I'm sure," which I hardly ever
+did anymore on account of my pop wouldn't let me. I was always running
+an errand for some neighbor who didn't have any boys in the family,
+which is what boys are for.
+
+I was wondering where Poetry had to go, with what, and why, when
+Poetry's mom called up the stairs to him and said, "Leslie, will you
+bring down _The Hoosier Schoolmaster_, and you and Bill take it over
+to Mrs. Mansfield."
+
+I heard Poetry gasp and call back down, "Get WHAT?"
+
+"_The Hoosier Schoolmaster!_" his mom called up. "It's on the second
+shelf in your library--it's a red book with gold lettering on it;"
+then Mrs. Thompson said to me, "Having a new gentleman teacher in the
+community has made everybody interested in that very interesting book,
+so Mrs. Mansfield is going to review it for the Literary Society next
+Wednesday night."
+
+Then Poetry's mom called up to him and asked, "Find it, Leslie?" which
+of course he hadn't and couldn't, anyway, not upstairs, 'cause right
+that minute it was lying open on two sticks stuck into Mr. Black's
+stomach at the bottom of Bumblebee hill. For some reason it didn't
+seem as if we wanted to tell Mrs. Thompson where it was, but it looked
+like we were in for it.
+
+We couldn't come right out and tell her where the book was, 'cause she
+was like most of the other parents in Sugar Creek territory--she
+thought Mr. Black, who rode a fine horse and wore a brown leather
+jacket and riding boots and who could smile politely and tip his hat
+whenever he saw a Sugar Creek Gang mother, was a very fine gentleman,
+and certainly didn't know what a hard time the gang had been having
+with him.
+
+Just that second Poetry called down and said, "Bill and I'll take it
+to her."
+
+The gang didn't know Mrs. Mansfield very well, on account of she was a
+new person in the Sugar Creek territory and didn't have any boys, and
+was more interested in society than any of the gang's moms and was
+always reading important books on account of it maybe made her seem
+more important if she knew the names of all the important books and
+who wrote them.
+
+Poetry came downstairs with his camera, coming down in a big hurry and
+saying to me in a business-like voice, "Let's get going, Bill," and
+made a dive for the door so his mom wouldn't see he didn't have _The
+Hoosier Schoolmaster_, not wanting her to ask where it was, so he
+wouldn't have to tell her.
+
+Both Poetry and I were out of doors in a jiffy and the door was half
+shut behind us when Poetry's mother said, "Hadn't we better wrap it
+up, Leslie,--just in case you might accidentally drop it?"
+
+"I promise you, I won't drop it," Poetry said, "besides we want to
+hurry. I want to take a picture of something before the sun gets too
+far down. Come on, Bill, hurry up!" Poetry squawked to me, and I
+hurried after him, both of us running fast out through their back yard
+in the direction of Bumblebee hill.
+
+But Poetry's mother called to us from the back door and said, "Where
+are you going? Mrs. Mansfield doesn't live in _that_ direction."
+
+Poetry and I stopped and looked at each other.
+
+All of a sudden we knew we were caught, so Poetry said to me, "What'll
+we tell her?"
+
+And remembering something my pop had taught me to do when I was caught
+in a trap, I said all of a sudden, quoting my pop, "Tell her the
+truth."
+
+Poetry scowled, "You tell her," he said, which I did, saying "Mrs.
+Thompson, the gang had _The Hoosier Schoolmaster_ this afternoon, and
+we left him--I mean _it_--down on Bumblebee hill. We have to go there
+first to get it," and all of a sudden I felt fine inside, and know
+that Pop was right. Poetry's mom might not like to hear _exactly_
+where the book was, right that very minute, and it didn't seem exactly
+right to tell her, so when she didn't ask me, I didn't tell her.
+
+Poetry's mother must have understood her very mischievous boy, though,
+and didn't want to get him into a corner, for she said, "Thank you for
+telling me. Now I can phone Mrs. Mansfield it will take a little
+longer for you to get there with the book--and, by the way, if you see
+Mr. Black tell him about next Wednesday night--you probably will see
+him. I told him you boys were over on Bumblebee hill, and how to get
+there. He seemed to want to see you."
+
+Poetry and I both yelled back to her, saying, "You told him WHAT!" and
+without another word or waiting to hear what she said, we started like
+lightning as fast as we could go, straight for Sugar Creek and
+Bumblebee hill, wondering if by taking a short cut we could get there
+before Mr. Black did; and in my mind's eye, I could see Poetry, IF we
+got there first, making a dive for _The Hoosier Schoolmaster_ on the
+snow man; and I could see myself, making a leap for the man's head,
+and knocking it completely off, I could see it go rolling the rest of
+the way down the hill with its cornsilk hair getting covered with
+snow--also I could see Mr. Black in his brown riding jacket and
+boots, on his great big saddle horse, riding up right about the same
+minute.
+
+What if we didn't get there first? I thought. What if we didn't? It
+would be awful! Absolutely _terrible_! And Poetry must have been
+thinking the same thing, 'cause for once in his life, in spite of his
+being barrel-shaped and very heavy, and never could run very fast, I
+had a hard time keeping up with him....
+
+
+
+
+5
+
+
+All the time while Poetry and I were running through the snowy woods,
+squishety-sizzle, zip-zip-zip, crunch, crunch, crunch, I could see in
+my mind's eye our new teacher's big beautiful brown saddle horse,
+prancing along in the snow toward Bumblebee hill, carrying his heavy
+load just as easy as if it wasn't anything. Right that very minute,
+maybe, the horse would be standing and pawing the ground and in a
+hurry to get started somewhere, while maybe its rider was standing
+with _The Hoosier Schoolmaster_ in his hand, looking at the picture of
+the schoolhouse, and then maybe looking at the ridiculous-looking snow
+man we'd made of him....
+
+In a few minutes Poetry and I were so out of wind that we had to stop
+and walk awhile, especially because I had a pain in my right side
+which I sometimes got when I ran too fast too long. "My side hurts," I
+said to Poetry, and he said, "Better stop and stoop down and unbuckle
+your boot, and buckle it again, and it'll quit hurting."
+
+"It'll WHAT?" I said, thinking his idea was crazy.
+
+"It'll quit hurting, if you stop and stoop down and unbuckle your boot
+and then buckle it again."
+
+Well, I couldn't run anymore with the sharp pain in my side, so even
+though I thought Poetry's idea was crazy, I stopped and stooped over,
+biting off my mittens with my teeth, and laying them down on the snow
+for a jiffy and unbuckling one of my boots and buckling it again while
+I was still stooped over; then I straightened up, and would you
+believe it? That crazy ache in my side was actually gone! There wasn't
+even a sign of it.
+
+I panted a minute longer to get my wind, then we started on the run
+again. "It's crazy," I said, "but it worked. How come?"
+
+"Poetry Thompson's father told me," he said, puffing along ahead of
+me, "only it won't work in the summer-time. In the summer-time you
+have to stop running, and stop and stoop down and pick up a rock, and
+spit on it and turn it over and lay it down again very carefully
+upside down, and your side will quit hurting."
+
+Right then, I stumbled over a log and fell down on my face, and
+scrambled to my feet and we hurried on, and I said to Poetry, "What do
+you do when you get a sore toe from stumping it on a log--stoop over
+and scrape the snow off the log and kiss it, and turn it over, and
+then--?"
+
+It wasn't any time to be funny, only worried, but Poetry explained to
+me that it was the _stooping_ that was what did it. "It's getting your
+body bent double, that does it.--Hey! Look! There he is now!"
+
+I looked in the direction of our house, since we were getting pretty
+close to Bumblebee hill, and sure enough, there was our teacher
+sitting on his great big beautiful brown horse which was standing and
+prancing right beside the old iron pitcher pump not more than twenty
+feet from our back door. Mom was standing there with her sweater on
+and a scarf on her head talking to him or maybe listening to him, then
+I saw Mr. Black tip his hat like an honest-to-goodness gentleman, and
+bow, and his pretty horse whirled about and went in a horse hurry to
+our front gate which was open, and being held open by my pop, and he
+went on, galloping up the road, his horse galloping in the shadow
+which they made on the snowy road ahead of them.
+
+Well, that was that, I thought, and Poetry and I who were at the top
+of Bumblebee hill hurried down to where he and I had left our sleds,
+the rest of the gang having taken theirs with them when we'd gone to
+the cave. At the bottom of the hill, we saw the great big tall snow
+man. The sun was still shining right straight on it, but wouldn't be,
+pretty soon, but would go down. So Poetry and I stopped close to it,
+and he got his camera ready.
+
+"You get _The Hoosier Schoolmaster_, Bill, and turn it around and
+stand it up against the Hoosier schoolmaster's stomach." Poetry
+ordered, "so I can get a good picture of it," which I started to do,
+and then gasped.... _There wasn't any Hoosier Schoolmaster!_ The book
+was gone. "It's gone!" I said to Poetry, and it was, and there was a
+page of yellow writing paper, instead.
+
+"Hey!" I said, "There's something printed on it!" Sure enough, there
+was. The piece of yellow writing tablet was standing up on the two
+sticks, leaning against the snow man's stomach, and was fastened so
+the wind wouldn't blow it away, by another stick stuck through the
+paper and into the snow man's stomach.
+
+"It's your poem, Poetry," I said, remembering the poem which Poetry
+had written about our teacher. "How'd it get here?" Right away I was
+reading the poem again, which was almost funny, only I didn't feel
+like laughing on account of wondering who had stolen the book and had
+put the poem here in its place. The poem was written exactly right:
+
+  "_The Sugar Creek Gang had the worst of teachers,
+    And 'Black' his named was called,
+  His round red face had the homeliest of features,
+    He was fat and forty and bald._"
+
+It had been funny the first time I had read it, which was not more
+than a week ago, but for some reason right that minute it was anything
+in the world else. I was gritting my teeth and wondering who had done
+it, and who had stolen _The Hoosier Schoolmaster_. There wasn't a one
+of the gang that _could_ have done it, 'cause we had all been together
+all afternoon; and at the cave all the rest of the gang had gone to
+their different homes.
+
+"Who in the world wrote it and put it there?" I said, noticing that
+the printing was very large and had been put on with black crayola,
+the kind we used in school.
+
+"There's only one other person in the world who knows I wrote that
+poem," Poetry said, "and that's Shorty Long."
+
+"Shorty Long!" I said, remembering the newest boy who had moved into
+our neighborhood and was almost as fat as Poetry and who had been the
+cause of most of our trouble with our new teacher and had had two or
+three fights with me and had licked the stuffins out of me once, and I
+had licked the stuffins out of him once also, even worse than he had
+me, almost.
+
+"How'd he find it out?" I said.
+
+"Dragonfly told him," and also I remembered right that minute that
+Dragonfly and Shorty Long had been kinda chummy last week and we had
+all worried for fear there was maybe going to be trouble in our own
+gang which there'd never been before, and all on account of the new
+fat guy who had moved into our neighborhood and had started coming to
+our school.
+
+"Are you going to take a picture of it?" I said to Poetry, and he
+said, "I certainly am; I'm going to have the evidence and then I can
+prove to anybody that doesn't believe it, that somebody actually put
+it here."
+
+"Yeah," I said, "but everybody knows _you_ wrote the poem."
+
+Poetry lowered his camera, and just that minute I saw something else
+that made me stare and in fact startled me so that for a jiffy I was
+almost as much excited as I had been when the fierce old mad old
+mother bear had been trying to kill Little Jim right at that very
+place where we were about a year and a half ago.
+
+"Hey! Look!" I said, "Mr. Black's been here himself!"
+
+"Mr. _Black_!" Poetry said in almost a half scream.... And right away
+both of us were looking down in the snow around the beech tree, and
+around the snow man, and sure enough there were horse's tracks, the
+kind of tracks that showed that the horse had shoes on. And even while
+I was scared and wondering "What on earth!" there popped into my red
+head the crazy superstition that if you found a horseshoe and put it
+up over the door of your house or one of the rooms of your house, you
+would have good luck....
+
+"I'll bet Mr. Black took the book, and wrote the poem and put it
+here."
+
+"He wouldn't," I said, but was afraid he might have.
+
+"I'm going to take a picture anyway," Poetry said, and stepped back
+and took one, and then real quick, took another, and then he took the
+yellow sheet of paper with the poem on it and folded it up and put it
+in his coat pocket, and with our faces and minds worried we started in
+fiercely knocking the living daylights out of that snow man. The first
+thing we did was to pull off the red nose, and pull out the corn-cob
+pipe, and knock the round head off and watch it go ker-swish onto the
+ground and break in pieces, then we pulled the sticks out of his
+stomach, kicked him in the same place, and in a jiffy had him looking
+like nothing.
+
+We felt pretty mixed up in our minds, I can tell you.
+
+"Do you suppose Mr. Black did that?" I said.
+
+"He wouldn't," Poetry said, "but if he rode his horse down here and
+saw it, he'll certainly think we're a bunch of heathen."
+
+"We aren't, though--are we?" I said to Poetry, and for some reason I
+was remembering that Little Jim had acted like maybe we ought not make
+_fun_ of our teacher just 'cause he had hair only all around his head
+and not on top, and couldn't help it. For some reason, it didn't seem
+very funny, right that minute, and it seemed like Little Jim was
+right.
+
+"What about _The Hoosier Schoolmaster_?" Poetry said to me, as we
+dragged our discouraged sleds up Bumblebee hill. "What'll we tell your
+mother? And what'll _she_ tell Mrs. Mansfield?"
+
+"I don't know," Poetry said, and his voice sounded more worried than
+I'd heard it in a long time.
+
+The first thing Mom said to us when we got to our house was, "Mr.
+Black was here twice this afternoon."
+
+"_Twice?_" I said. "What for? What did he want?"
+
+"Oh he was just visiting around, getting acquainted with the parents
+of the boys. Such a beautiful brown saddle horse," Mom said. "And he
+was so polite."
+
+"The horse?" Poetry said, and maybe shouldn't have, but Mom ignored
+his remark and said, "He took a picture of our house and barn and
+tried to get one of Mixy cat, but Mixy was scared of the horse, I
+guess, and ran like a frightened rabbit."
+
+"Was he actually taking pictures?" Poetry asked with a worried voice.
+
+"Yes, and he wanted to get one of you boys playing on Bumblebee
+hill.... But you were all gone, he said, but he found the book you
+left there, so he brought it back--you know, the one Mrs. Mansfield
+wanted."
+
+"What book?" I said, pretending to be surprised. "Did Mrs. Mansfield
+want a book?"
+
+And Mom who was standing at our back door bareheaded, and shouldn't
+have been, on account of she might catch cold, said, "Yes, she phoned
+here for _The Hoosier Schoolmaster_, while Mr. Black was here, but I
+knew _your_ mother had one, Poetry, so I told her to call _there_."
+
+Poetry and I were looking at each other, wondering "What on earth?"
+Then Mom said, "Mr. Black thought maybe you boys had been reading it
+or something and had forgotten it when you left."
+
+"D-d-d-did he--did he--?" Poetry began, but stuttered so much he had
+to stop and start again, and said, "Did he say _where_ he found it? I
+mean was it--that is, where did he _find_ it?"
+
+"He didn't say," Mom said, "but he said since he was going on over to
+Mrs. Mansfield's anyway, he'd take it over for me, so you won't have
+to take it over, Bill," Mom finished.
+
+Well, that was that.... Poetry and I sighed to each other, and he
+said, "Did you tell my mother?"
+
+"I've just called her," Mom said, "and you're to come on home right
+away to get the chores done early.... It's early to bed for all of us
+on Saturday night, you know."
+
+Poetry must have felt pretty bad, just like I did, but he managed to
+say to Mom politely, "Thank you, Mrs. Collins. I'll hurry right on
+home."
+
+I walked out to the gate with him, and for a jiffy we just stood and
+looked at each other, both of us with worried looks on our faces.
+
+"Do you suppose he really took a picture of himself with that poem on
+his stomach?" Poetry asked. "And if he did, _who_ on earth put it
+there?"
+
+"I don't know," I said, "but what would he want with pictures of all
+of us and our parents?"
+
+"I'm sure I don't know--" Poetry said, with a worried voice.
+
+Just that minute Pop called from the barn and said, "BILL, HURRY UP
+AND GATHER THE EGGS! IT'LL BE TOO DARK TO SEE IN THE BARN AS SOON AS
+THE SUN GOES DOWN! POETRY, BE SURE TO COME AGAIN SOME TIME," which was
+Pop's way of telling Poetry to step on the gas and get going home
+right now, which Poetry did, and I went back to the house and got the
+egg basket to start to gather the eggs, wondering what would happen
+next.
+
+
+
+
+6
+
+
+Just as I started to open our kitchen door and go out to the barn, Mom
+came from the other room where she'd been talking on the phone and
+said, "Little Jim's mother is coming down with the flu, and won't be
+able to go to church tomorrow, so we're to pick up Little Jim and also
+stop for Tom Till and take him to church with _us_.... We'll have to
+get up a little earlier tomorrow morning, so you get the chores done
+quick so we can get supper over and to bed nice and early," which I
+thought was a good idea. I was already tired all of a sudden, almost
+too tired to gather the eggs.
+
+Tomorrow, though, would be a fine day. It'd be fun stopping at Little
+Jim's and Tom Till's houses and take them to church with us.
+
+Little Jim had something on his mind that was bothering him, though,
+and I wondered what it was. Also, I wondered who was coming to our
+house for dinner tomorrow. Maybe it would be Little Jim, as _well_ as
+somebody else, if his mom was going to have the flu.
+
+Pretty soon I was up in our haymow all by myself carrying the egg
+basket around to the different places where different ones of our
+old hens laid their eggs. Old Bent-comb still laid her daily egg up
+in a corner of the mow so I climbed away up over a big stack of
+sweet-smelling hay to where I knew the nest was. I wasn't feeling very
+good inside on account of things hadn't gone right during the day, and
+yet I couldn't tell what was wrong, except maybe it was just me. When
+I got to old Bent-comb's nest, sure enough there were two eggs in
+it--one was the pretty white egg Bent-comb herself had laid that day
+and the other was an artificial glass egg which we kept in the nest
+all the time just to encourage any hen that might see it, to stop and
+lay an egg there herself, just as if maybe there had been another hen
+who had thought it was a good place to lay an egg. It was easy to fool
+old Bent-comb, I thought.
+
+While I was getting ready to go back to the ladder and go down it to
+the main floor of the barn, my eyes climbed up Pop's brand new ladder
+which goes up to the cupola at the very peak of the roof of our very
+high barn. It certainly was a very nice light ladder, and next summer
+it would be easy for me to carry it to one cherry tree after another
+in our orchard when I helped pick cherries for Mom. It was such a
+light ladder, even Little Jim could carry it.... While I was standing
+looking up and thinking about wishing spring would hurry up and come,
+I all of a sudden wanted to climb up the ladder and look out the
+windows of the cupola and see what I could see in the different
+directions around the Sugar Creek territory. Also, I wondered if
+Snow-white, my favorite pigeon, and her husband had decided to have
+their nest in the cupola again this year, and if there were maybe any
+eggs or maybe a couple of baby pigeons, although parent pigeons hardly
+ever decided to raise any baby pigeons in the winter-time. If there
+was anything I liked to look at more than anything else, it was baby
+birds in a nest. Their fuzz always reminded me of Big Jim's fuzzy
+mustache, he being the only one of the Sugar Creek Gang to begin to
+have any.
+
+In a jiffy I was on my way and in another jiffy I was there, standing
+on the second from the top rung of the ladder. It was nice and light
+up there with the sun still shining in, although pretty soon it would
+go down. In one direction I could see Poetry's house, and their big
+maple tree right close beside it in the back yard, under which in the
+summer-time he always pitched his tent and sometimes he would invite
+me to stay all night with him; in another direction, and far away
+across our cornfield, was Dragonfly's house which had an orchard right
+close by it, where in the fall of the year we could all have all the
+apples we wanted, if we wanted them; Big Jim and Circus lived right
+across the road from each other, but I couldn't see either one of
+their houses, or Little Tom's on account of Little Tom lived across
+the bridge on the other side of Sugar Creek.... I could see our red
+brick schoolhouse, away on past Dragonfly's house, though. But when I
+looked at it, instead of feeling kinda happy inside like I nearly
+always did when we had our pretty lady other teacher for a teacher, I
+felt kinda saddish. There was the big maple tree which I knew was
+right close beside a tall iron pump, near which we had built a snow
+fort; and behind that was the woodshed where we'd been locked in by
+our new man teacher and which you know about if you've read _One
+Stormy Day at Sugar Creek_, and behind the woodshed was the great big
+schoolyard where we played baseball and blindman's buff and other
+games in the fall and spring, and where we play fox-and-goose in the
+winter. For a few minutes I forgot I was supposed to be gathering
+eggs, and was doing what Pop is always accusing me of doing, which is
+"dreaming." I was thinking about what had happened that afternoon,
+such as the trip we'd taken through the cave to Old Man Paddler's
+cabin, and the prayer he'd made for all of us, and especially for Old
+Hook-nosed John Till, which Little Tom had heard, and it had made him
+cry and want to go home. Poor Little Tom, I thought. What if I had had
+a pop like his, instead of the kinda wonderful pop I had, who made it
+easy for Mom to be happy, which is why maybe Mom was always singing
+around our kitchen, even when she was tired, and also why, whenever
+Pop came into our house after being gone awhile, Mom would look up
+quick from whatever she was doing and give him a nice look, and
+sometimes they'd be awful glad to see each other, and Pop would give
+her a great big hug like pops are supposed to do to moms. Poor Little
+Tom's mom, I thought.
+
+Well, while I was still not thinking about finishing gathering the
+eggs, I looked in the last direction I hadn't looked yet, which was
+toward our house and over the top of the spreading branches of the
+plum tree and over the top of our gate which Dragonfly had had his
+ride on, and on down toward Bumblebee hill where we'd coasted and had
+fun and made the snow man of Mr. Black, but say! right that second,
+I saw something moving--in fact, it was somebody's cap moving along
+just below the crest of the hill, but all I could see was the
+bobbing-up-and-down cap, and right away I knew whose cap it was--it
+was the bright red cap of the new tough guy in our neighborhood whose
+name was Shorty Long, and right away I knew who it was that had
+written Poetry's poetry and put it on the sticks into Mr. Black's
+stomach....
+
+I had a queer, and also an angry feeling inside me, 'cause I just
+_knew_ Mr. Black had seen the poem, and since it had been signed "The
+Sugar Creek Gang," we would all be in for still more trouble Monday
+morning in school.
+
+While I was up there in that cupola, I made up my mind to one thing,
+and that was that no matter how much we didn't like our teacher, and
+no matter what ideas Poetry and I had once had in our minds to find
+out whether a board on the top of the schoolhouse chimney would smoke
+out a teacher, I, Bill Collins wasn't going to vote "Yes" if the gang
+put it to a vote to decide whether to do it or not.... No sir, not me.
+
+Right that second, I heard my pop calling me from away down on the
+main floor of the barn, "Better come on down and finish your chores,
+Bill," which I had, and which I started to do, climbing backwards down
+the new ladder very carefully to the haymow floor and then down the
+other ladder to the main floor of the barn.
+
+Pop had just finished milking our one milk cow, and the big
+three-gallon milk pail was full clear to the top and there was
+inch-high creamy-yellow foam above the top of the pail. Mixy, our old
+black and white cat, was mewing and mewing and walking all around
+Pop's legs and looking up and mewing and rubbing her sides against his
+boots and also running over toward the little milk pan over by a
+corner of the barn floor, as if to say to Pop, "For goodness sake, I
+may be a mere cat, but does that give you any right to make me wait
+for my supper?"
+
+Anyway I was reminded that I was hungry myself, and pretty soon we'd
+all be in our house, sitting around our table eating raw-fried
+potatoes and reddish slices of fried ham, and other things....
+
+"I'll take the milk on up to the house, Bill," Pop said, and also
+said, "You follow me up to the back porch, Mixy--you can't have
+_fresh_ milk tonight--and also, only a little raw meat, because there
+are absolutely too many mice around this barn. Any ordinary hungry cat
+ought to catch at least one mouse a day, Mixy, and if you _don't_
+catch them, we'll have to make you hungry, so you will. Understand?" I
+looked at Pop's big reddish-blackish eyebrows and he was frowning at
+Mixy, although I knew he liked her a lot, but didn't like mice very
+well.
+
+I finished gathering the eggs that were in the barn and then went to
+the hen house where I knew there would be some more eggs, and then
+took my basket of maybe four dozen eggs toward the house.
+
+Mixy was there on the back porch, I noticed, lapping away at her milk
+like a house afire. I wiped off my boots carefully like I'd been
+trained to do whether I was at home or in somebody else's house,
+pushed open the door to our kitchen and went in, expecting to see Mom,
+or Pop, or both of them there, but there wasn't anybody there, so I
+sat the egg basket down on Mom's work table, and started into the
+front room, where I thought they'd maybe be. All of a sudden I heard
+Mom saying something in a tearful voice, and I stopped cold--wondering
+what I'd maybe done and shouldn't have, and if Mom was telling Pop
+about it, so I started to listen--and then was half afraid to, so I
+started to open the door and go out when I heard Pop say something in
+a low voice, and it was, "No, Mother, whatever it is, I know one
+thing--our Bill will tell the truth. He'd tell the truth right now if
+I asked him, but I'm not going to. I'm going to wait and see what
+happens, and see if he'll tell me himself."
+
+I strained my ears hard to hear what Mom would answer, and this is
+what she said, "All right, Theodore, I'll be patient; but just the
+same, I'm worried."
+
+"Don't you worry one little tiny bit, Mother," Pop said. "A boy's
+heart is like a garden. If you plant good seed in it, and cultivate
+and plow it and water it with love, he'll come out all right," which
+made me like my pop a lot, only I didn't have time to think about it
+'cause right that very second almost, I heard Mom say in a worried
+voice, "Yes, dear, but _weeds_ grow in a garden without anyone's
+planting them," which made me feel all saddish inside, and for some
+reason I could see our own garden which every spring and summer had
+all kinds of weeds--ragweeds, smartweeds, and big ugly Jimson-weeds,
+and lots of other kinds. Right that second, I remembered something my
+pop had said to me once last summer which was, "Say, Bill, do you know
+how to keep the big weeds out of our garden, without having to pull
+up or cut out even one of them?" and when I said, "No, how, Pop?" he
+said, "Just kill all of them while they are _little_."
+
+Well, I didn't want Mom or Pop to know I'd heard them talking about
+me, so I sneaked out the back door very carefully and started to
+talking in a friendly voice to Mixy, saying to her, "Listen, Mixy, do
+you know how to keep all the great big mice out of our barn? You just
+catch all the mice while they're little--it's as easy as pie."
+
+Mixy looked up from her empty milk pan and mewed and looked down at
+her pan again, and looked up at me again and mewed again, and then
+walked over to me and rubbed her sides against my boots like she liked
+me a lot. For some reason, I thought Mixy was a very nice cat right
+that minute, so I said to her, "I'm awful glad you like me, Mixy, even
+if nobody else around this place does."
+
+Pretty soon, Pop and I were out doing the rest of the chores while Mom
+was getting supper. Almost right away, it began to get dark, and we
+went in to supper. "Wash your hands and go get Charlotte Ann," Mom
+said to me. "I think she's awake now."
+
+Charlotte Ann, you know, is my baby sister, and even though she is a
+girl, is a pretty swell baby; in fact, she's wonderful.
+
+In a few minutes Pop and Mom and Charlotte Ann and I were all sitting
+around our kitchen table in the lamp light. We had two kerosene lamps
+lit, one of them behind me on the high mantel-shelf above my head, and
+the other on another mantel-shelf above the water pail in the corner.
+
+We always bowed our heads at our house before every meal, different
+ones of us asking the blessing, whichever one of us Pop called on.
+When I was little I'd said a little poem prayer, but didn't do it any
+more on account of Pop thought I was too big, and since I was an
+actual Christian, in spite of having Jimson-weeds in my heart, I
+always prayed whenever Pop told me to, only I hoped that he wouldn't
+ask me to tonight. Pop looked around the table at all of us, and Mom
+helped Charlotte Ann fold her hands, which she didn't want to do, but
+kept wiggling and squirming and reaching for things on the table,
+which were too far away, "Well, let's see--whom shall we ask to pray,
+tonight? ah--"
+
+Pop's "ah--" was cut short by the telephone ringing our ring, which
+meant that one of us had to answer the phone. "I'll get it," I said,
+"maybe it's one of the gang--"
+
+"I'll get it," Mom said, "I'm expecting a call--I say, I'LL GET IT!"
+Mom raised her voice on account of I was already out of my chair and
+half way to the living room door.
+
+When Mom came back a minute later, she was smiling like she'd had some
+wonderful news, and it was, "It was Mrs. Long. _Mr._ Long won't be
+home tomorrow, so she can go to church with us. Isn't that wonderful?
+It's an answer to prayer."
+
+I spoke up then and said, "How about Shorty? Is he going too?"
+
+I don't know what there was in my voice that shouldn't have been, when
+I asked that question, but Mom said in an astonished tone of voice,
+"Why, Bill Collins! The very idea! Don't you _want_ him to go to
+church and Sunday School and learn something about being a Christian?
+Do you want him to grow up to be a heathen? What's the matter with
+you?"
+
+I gulped. Mom had read my thoughts like an open school book. "Of
+course," I said, "he ought to go to church, but--"
+
+"But _what_?" Mom said.
+
+"He's awful mean to the gang," I said, "He--"
+
+"Perhaps we'd better ask the blessing now," Pop said, in a kind voice,
+and right away we bowed our heads, while Pop prayed a short prayer,
+which ended something like this, "... and bless our minister tomorrow.
+Put into his heart the things he ought to say that will do us all the
+most good.... Make his sermon like a plow and hoe and rake that will
+make the gardens of our hearts what they all ought to be.... Bless
+Shorty Long and his mother and father, and the Till family, all of
+which we ask in Jesus' name. Amen."
+
+For some reason, when Pop finished, I seemed to feel like maybe I
+didn't actually _hate_ our new teacher, not very much anyway, and I
+thought maybe Shorty Long, even if he was a terribly tough boy, would
+be better if he had somebody pull some of the weeds out of him....
+
+After supper, we all took our regular Saturday night baths and went to
+bed, and the next thing we knew it was a wonderful morning, with the
+sun shining on the snow and with sleigh bells jingling on people's
+horses, on account of some of our neighbors lived on roads where the
+road-conditioner hadn't been through yet, and couldn't use their cars
+and so had to use sleds instead. It was going to be a wonderful day
+all day, I thought, and was glad I was alive.
+
+
+
+
+7
+
+
+Just before nine o'clock, we all started in our car toward Little
+Jim's house, which was closer than Tom Till's or Shorty Long's. Little
+Jim came tumbling out his back door, his short legs carrying him fast
+out to the road. He got in and I was certainly tickled to see him. Mom
+and Pop and Charlotte Ann were in the front seat, so Charlotte Ann
+would be closer to our car heater and keep warm, on account of it was
+a cold morning.
+
+"How is your mother this morning?" my mom asked Little Jim about his
+mom, and Little Jim piped up in his mouse-like voice and said, "She's
+better than last night. Pop and I took breakfast to her in bed," which
+is what _my_ pop does to _my_ mom when _she_ doesn't feel well. In
+fact, sometimes when Pop gets up extra early before Mom does, he
+sneaks out into our kitchen quietly and makes coffee and carries a
+cupful in and surprises Mom even when she is perfectly well, which Pop
+says is maybe one reason why Mom keeps on liking him so well....
+
+Our car turned north on the road that leads to Tom's house, crossed
+the snow-covered Sugar Creek bridge, and went on. While we were on the
+bridge, Little Jim said to me, "Look, there's an _oak_ tree that still
+has its leaves on, and'll maybe keep 'em on all winter."
+
+Then we came to Tom's weathered, old-looking house, and barn, and Pop
+pulled up at the side of the road in front of their mail box which
+said on it, "John Till," and honked the horn for Tom to come out and
+get in.
+
+There was a new path which maybe Tom had scooped for his mom so she
+could get the mail. In a minute now, I thought, their side door
+would open and Little Tom would come zipping out, with his kinda
+oldish-looking coat on and he would come crunch, crunch, crunch
+through the snow path to where we were. Tom didn't come right away,
+though. Pop honked again, so Tom would be sure to hear, then when he
+still didn't come, and when there wasn't any curtain moving at their
+window to let us know anybody was home and that Tom would be here in
+a minute, Mom said to me, "Bill, you better run in and tell him we're
+here. We have to stop at Long's yet, and we don't want to be late."
+
+Almost in a second I was opening the door and getting out. Little Jim
+tumbled out right after me, saying, "I'll go with you," and since
+neither his mom nor his pop were there to tell him not to, both of us
+went squishing up the snow path toward their side door. There had been
+a little wind during the night, and some snow had drifted into the
+path, and I was glad we had on our boots, so our good Sunday shoes
+wouldn't get wet and spoil their shine.
+
+I knocked at Tom's door, and waited and nobody answered, and Little
+Jim and I listened to see what we could hear, but all I could hear was
+somebody moving around inside like whoever it was was in a hurry--like
+maybe there had been some things on the floor and they were in a hurry
+to straighten up the room or the house on account of company was
+coming.
+
+Then I heard a door shutting somewhere in the house, and I knew it was
+the door between their living-room and kitchen, then I heard footsteps
+coming toward our door, and I wondered what was wrong. I was sure
+something was, but didn't know what.
+
+The next thing I knew the door opened in front of me and there stood
+Little red-haired Tom, with his hair mussed up, and his old clothes
+on, and his eyes were kinda reddish, and it looked like he had been
+crying. "I'm sorry," he said, "but I can't go. Mother's got the flu,
+and I have to take care of her, and keep the fires going."
+
+"Can't your daddy do that?" Little Jim asked in a disappointed voice,
+and Little Tom swallowed hard like there was a tear in his throat and
+said, "Daddy's not home again. He--he's--not home," Tom finished, and
+I knew what he meant, but he was ashamed to say it, and it probably
+was that his pop had got drunk again and was maybe right that very
+minute in the Sugar Creek jail.
+
+"Where's Bob?" Little Jim wanted to know, and Tom stood there in the
+half-open kitchen door and said, "He got up early and went over to
+Shorty Long's; they're going to hunt pigeons."
+
+I knew what that meant, 'cause sometimes some of the farmers in our
+neighborhood had too many pigeons, and the Sugar Creek Gang would go
+to their different barns and shut all the doors and windows quick and
+help catch the pigeons for them, and you could get sometimes fifteen
+cents apiece for them if you sold them.
+
+If Shorty Long and Bob had gone hunting pigeons together, it meant
+that Shorty Long wouldn't want to go to Sunday School with us when we
+stopped at their house after awhile to get his mother to take her to
+church with us. It also meant that Shorty and Bob had maybe decided to
+like each other, since neither one of them liked the Sugar Creek Gang.
+
+Little Tom didn't know what I'd been thinking, so he piped up and said
+to Little Jim, "I'm sorry I can't go, but I can't. You tell Teacher
+I'll try to come next week, and tell her I studied my Sunday School
+lesson, and--wait a minute!" Tom turned and, leaving the door open,
+hurried back inside the house, opened the door to their living-room
+and went in, like he had gone after something. He shut the door after
+him real quick, like he was trying to keep the cold air in the kitchen
+from getting into that other room.
+
+In that split minute while the door was open, though, I saw that they
+had a big double bed in their living-room and that Tom's mother was in
+it, all covered up, and that there was a small table beside her bed
+with a glass half full of water, but that the room looked kinda
+topsyturvy like the housekeeping was being done by a boy instead of a
+mother.
+
+A second later Tom was out again, shutting the door behind him, and
+coming right straight to Little Jim and me, and holding out his hand
+and saying, "Here--here's my offering." He handed me a small offering
+envelope like the ones we used in our church, and without trying to, I
+noticed it had two very small coins in it, and I guessed they were
+dimes, which maybe Tom himself had saved from catching pigeons.
+
+Just that second, Tom's mother coughed, a kinda saddish, sickish
+cough, that sounded like maybe she was a lot sicker than she ought to
+be, and I knew that if my mom was as sick as that Pop would have a
+doctor out to see her right away, so I said, "Has the doctor been
+here?"
+
+Little Tom frowned and said, "Nope, we can't--Nope, I guess Mom will
+get well. She always does."
+
+Just that second our car honked, and I knew the folks were wondering
+what on earth was keeping us so long. There didn't seem to be anything
+we could do, but I knew somebody ought to do something for Tom's mom,
+'cause that cough sounded dangerous. Why, she might even get
+pneumonia, I thought; she might even have it now.
+
+As quick as Little Jim and I reached the car, and had climbed into the
+back seat, we told Mom and Pop. While I was excitedly telling them, I
+noticed that the muscles in Pop's jaws were working and I knew he was
+thinking, and also was half angry inside because anybody had to have
+such a mean husband as Old Hook-nosed John Till.
+
+"He's a slave," Pop said, thinking of Tom's pop, and Mom said, with a
+very determined voice, "Theodore, you take the boys on to Sunday
+School. Be sure to stop for Mrs. Long. Here, Bill, you hold Charlotte
+Ann. If Mrs. Till has the flu, I can't keep Charlotte Ann here with
+me."
+
+Pop started to say something, but Mom had already made up her mind,
+and it was too late. Mom was already half way out of the car when she
+said, "You can come on back and get me in time for church,--no, wait a
+minute. I want Tom to go to Sunday School too--I'll send him right
+out." Mom was out of the car and going up the snow path toward the
+oldish house, when Little Jim piped up and said, "The doctor's going
+to stop at our house at ten o'clock to see Mother. I'll bet he'd stop
+to see Tom's mother too if anybody asked him to."
+
+"They can't afford a doctor," I said, remembering what Tom had tried
+to say a few minutes ago, but I hadn't any more than got the words out
+of my mouth than Pop spoke up almost fiercely, like he was angry at
+somebody or something, and this is what he said, "But _I_ can. If
+Tom's mother needs a doctor, she's going to have one," and with that
+Pop shoved open the car door at his left side, saying, "You boys wait
+here a minute. I'll be right back." He slammed the door and circled
+the car and went swishing with very determined steps through that snow
+path to Tom's side door, and disappeared inside, leaving Little Jim
+and Charlotte Ann and me in the car. The motor was running and the
+heater fan was circulating warm air all over the car, so we wouldn't
+get cold.
+
+I still had Little Tom's offering envelope in my hand, and it reminded
+me of how maybe Tom had earned the money, and so I said to Little Jim,
+"I hope Shorty Long and Bob don't stop at our barn, 'cause we don't
+have too many pigeons. And besides, there's a nest up in our cupola,
+with some baby pigeons in it, and if they catch the mother and father
+the babies will freeze or maybe starve to death."
+
+A jiffy later, Pop came out to the car, bringing Tom with him, and all
+of us except Mom drove on toward Shorty Long's house to get Shorty's
+mother.
+
+Pretty soon, fifteen minutes later, maybe, we all pulled up in our car
+in front of the little white church on top of the hill right across
+from a two-room brick schoolhouse where the Sugar Creek Literary
+Society met once a month on Wednesday nights. All of us except Pop got
+out to go inside the church, Shorty Long's mother carrying Charlotte
+Ann and was going to take care of her until Pop got back.
+
+"I'm going to the parsonage to call the doctor to stop at your house,"
+Pop said to Tom, "and I'm taking a radio to your mother, so if she
+feels able, she can listen to a Gospel program."
+
+I looked quick at Little Tom, knowing he might feel ashamed to be
+reminded that his folks couldn't afford a doctor, and also that they
+didn't have any radio, and knowing it was on account of his pop; but
+Tom was looking in another direction, and was swallowing hard like he
+had taken too big a bite of something and hadn't chewed it long enough
+but was trying to swallow it. Then he whirled around real quick, and
+hurried up the cement steps to the church's door, with Little Jim and
+me right after him.
+
+Just inside the vestibule, fastened to the wall, was what is called
+"The Minister's Question Box," with a little slit in the top for
+people to put in Bible questions they wanted explained, or also for
+any extra offering people wanted the minister to have.... Right that
+second I saw Little Jim pull one of his small hands out of his pocket
+and slip a folded piece of paper into the box, kinda bashful-like,
+then he and all of us went on in to where our classes would be
+sitting.
+
+As soon as Sunday School was over and church started, I noticed Mr.
+Black come in. I was surprised to see him come to church, but I knew
+our minister would preach a good sermon like he always does, and it
+wouldn't hurt even a school teacher to hear a good sermon maybe once a
+week.
+
+
+
+
+8
+
+
+Two or three times while our minister was preaching a very interesting
+sermon which a boy could understand, my thoughts flew away like they
+were birds with wings, and for quite a while I didn't even know I was
+in church on account of I was far away in my thoughts. As you maybe
+know, our minister was Sylvia's father, and Sylvia was a very polite,
+kinda pretty girl with a good singing voice and always had her hair
+looking very neat and pretty with a ribbon or something on it like
+girls wear in their hair, and she was Big Jim's favorite girl. I was
+sitting beside Big Jim, and Dragonfly was beside me, with the rest of
+the Sugar Creek Gang in different places in the church, our parents
+not letting us all sit together if they could help it, on account of
+the minister got more attention himself if we sat in different
+places--not that any of us tried to be mischievous in church--in fact,
+we always had to try not to be.
+
+Right that second Sylvia's kind-voiced pop was talking about how
+wonderful it was, when you knew you had done something wrong, and were
+sorry for it, you could pray right straight to the Lord Himself and
+confess your sins right straight to Him, and He would make your heart
+clean.... "The blood of Jesus Christ, the Son of God, will cleanse you
+from all sin, _right that very minute_," Sylvia's pop said, and it
+seemed like a wonderful thing to believe, and made me feel good all
+inside of me....
+
+And then almost right away, he went on to say, quoting another verse
+from the Bible, "Come now, let us reason together, saith the Lord,
+though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though
+they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool." I had learned that
+verse by heart once in a summer Bible school. And all of a sudden, my
+thoughts were flying away, and I was remembering Poetry's pet lamb,
+which you know about if you've read _The Sugar Creek Gang in School_,
+whose wool was NOT white one morning when the lamb fell down in a mud
+puddle, and I was remembering Poetry's funny poetry which was,
+
+  "_Poetry had a little lamb,
+  Its fleece a dirty black,
+  The only place
+  its wool was white
+  Was high up on its back_"....
+
+Also I was at that very minute reminded of another poem which I had
+seen yesterday, which was written on yellow paper and which had been
+pinned with a brown stick on the white stomach of a snow man.... That
+poem still didn't seem funny, and for some reason I decided I was
+going to try to be what is called a gentleman, and try to act like one
+in school, even if I didn't like my teacher.
+
+I didn't hear any more of Sylvia's pop's sermon for a while, on
+account of I happened to look out the church window which didn't have
+stained glass like some of the churches in town did, and I saw
+somebody's barn just on the other side of the little cemetery, and
+there were a lot of pigeons flying around over the barn, and in the
+sky, right away I was remembering Shorty Long and Big Bob Till, and
+wondering where they were, and what they were doing.
+
+I had a heavy feeling inside of me that they would maybe visit all of
+the barns of the Sugar Creek Gang's pops, and catch a lot of pigeons,
+and maybe they'd catch and kill the pretty brown and white pair of
+pigeons which had their nest in the cupola of our barn, and then what
+would happen to the _baby_ pigeons?...
+
+Pop didn't come in to church at all on account of deciding to stay
+with Mom, but he was there in the car right afterward, and all of us
+including Little Jim and Tom Till and Mrs. Long and Charlotte Ann,
+shook hands with a lot of people and climbed into our car and drove
+away. Pop and all of us were talking and listening as our car went
+purring down the road. We were just stopping at Shorty Long's house to
+let Mrs. Long out when Little Jim said to me in a half whisper,
+"Sylvia's pop certainly preached a good sermon. I _thought_ that was
+why some houses didn't have as much snow on their roofs as others,
+and why barns always have more snow than houses that people live in.
+It was a good sermon."
+
+"What?" I said to Little Jim, not remembering anything in the sermon
+about snow on people's houses or barns. Sylvia's pop must have said
+that when I was thinking about snowy white wool on Poetry's lamb--or
+else about a snow man standing at the bottom of Bumblebee hill....
+
+Pretty soon we came to Tom Till's house. Pop had already told us the
+doctor had been there, and Mrs. Till didn't have pneumonia, only a bad
+chest cold.
+
+Pop had gone to our house to get one of our battery radios so Mrs.
+Till could hear a good Christian program, and she was feeling a lot
+better. Pop also had told us that Bob had come home while Mom was
+taking care of Mrs. Till but he had gone away again. "Did he have any
+pigeons?" Little red-haired Tom asked, when Pop started to get out and
+go in with Tom and get Mom.
+
+"About a dozen," Pop told him. "He put them in the pigeon cage out in
+the woodshed."
+
+Right away I spoke up and said, "Were there any _white_ ones?"
+remembering the beautiful white pigeon with pink eyes which had her
+nest up in the cupola of our barn, and whose big beautiful brown
+husband was so proud of her and always was cooing to her when they
+were on the roof of our barn and was always strutting around so very
+proud, with his neck all puffed out like he was very important.
+
+"I don't know," Pop said, and I said, "Can I go and look, Tom?" and
+Tom said, "Sure, I'll go with you."
+
+"Let me hold Charlotte Ann," Little Jim said, he liking to hold babies
+on his small lap, anyway.
+
+Pop went in to get Mom, and Tom and I went into their woodshed to look
+through the chicken-yard wire cage at about fifteen very pretty
+pigeons.
+
+All of a sudden, while I was looking, I got a hot feeling all inside
+of me, 'cause right there in front of my eyes with the other different
+colored pigeons, was a beautiful albino one--the prettiest snow white
+one I ever saw with pretty pink eyes, and I knew right away it was my
+favorite pigeon, old Snow-white herself, who had her nest in the
+cupola of our barn.
+
+"There's my pigeon!" I cried to Little Tom, and when he asked me which
+one and I told him, he said, "Are you sure?"
+
+"I'm positive," I said. "See that little brown spot just below the
+left pink eye. I'm going to get her out, and take her home."
+
+Little Tom looked, and swallowed and got a very scared expression on
+his face, and started to say something, and then stopped.
+
+"'Smatter?" I said, and he said, "Nothing, only--"
+
+"Only what?" I asked him.
+
+"Only--only Bob's got a terrible temper, and he's already mad at me."
+
+Say, when I saw the scared expression on that little guy's face, I
+realized that if I let Snow-white out of that cage, Tom would maybe
+get a terrible beating-up-on from his big brother, and it'd be my
+fault. Just that minute, Pop and Mom came out of the side door of
+Tom's house, and it was time for us to go home. Mom was going to hurry
+with our own dinner, which had nearly all been cooked yesterday, and
+we were going to bring some nice chicken soup back in the car for
+Tom's mom's dinner, and also some chicken for Tom, himself.
+
+I still didn't know who was coming to our house for dinner, and
+whoever did come would have to wait awhile, on account of Mom would
+have to finish preparing it. "Who's coming to our house for dinner?" I
+asked, and Mom said, as we all started down the road toward Little
+Jim's house, "A certain very fine gentleman named Little Jim Foote, of
+the Sugar Creek Gang,"--and was I ever glad? But as the car glided
+down the white road, I kept thinking of my pretty Snow-white in Bob
+Till's cage, and I knew that Bob would maybe kill her along with all
+the other pigeons and sell them at the Sugar Creek Poultry Shop....
+
+Just that second, just as we were getting close to Little Jim Foote's
+house, Little Jim said, "Hey, Bill! Look! There goes a white pigeon,
+flying all by itself."
+
+I looked out the car window, and sure enough there was, a snow white
+pigeon, with its white wings flapping, and it was diving along
+through the Sugar Creek sky right past our car and straight for Sugar
+Creek and in the direction of our house on the other side of the
+woods. All of a sudden I got a choked-up feeling in my throat, 'cause
+I just _knew_ that was my very own Snow-white, and that Tom Till liked
+me so well he was going to run the risk of getting a terrible
+beating-up-on by his brother Bob, by opening their pigeon cage and
+letting Snow-white out so she could fly home.
+
+For some reason all of a sudden, I liked Little red-haired Tom Till so
+well that I wished I could do something very wonderful for him and his
+sick mother. I just kept my eyes strained on the sky above Sugar Creek
+and the woods where I'd seen Snow-white disappear, when I heard Little
+Jim say to me beside me, "Nearly all the snow's melted off our house
+now."
+
+I looked where he was looking, and he looked at me, and said surprised
+like, "'Smatter, Bill? You got tears in your eyes."
+
+"Have I?" I said, "I didn't know it."
+
+Tom Till really was a great little guy, I thought; one of my very best
+friends, and I remembered that before he had started coming to our
+Sunday School and had become a Christian, he had been one of the
+meanest boys I ever saw.
+
+I shook my head, to knock the tears out of my eyes, like Little Jim
+does when for some reason or other he gets tears in his, and doesn't
+want anybody to know it, so instead of using his handkerchief to wipe
+them out, he just gives his head a quick little jerk or two, and if
+you happen to be looking at him, you can see the tears fly off in some
+direction or other.
+
+"Well, here we are!" Pop said, stopping at Little Jim's house for a
+minute. "You'll probably want your sled. You and Bill'll want to coast
+on Bumblebee hill after dinner," which we would, and which, after
+dinner, we did.
+
+One of the first things we did, though, even before we ate dinner, was
+to go upstairs to my room and both of us put on some old clothes to
+play in, Little Jim's mother having made him take some old clothes
+with him when we'd stopped at their house a little while ago.
+
+Right away, we were down stairs again, and were on the way through the
+kitchen to the back door to dash out to the barn to see if Bob Till
+and Shorty Long had been there for sure, and also to see if Snow-white
+had come back and was on her nest up in the cupola, and also find out
+if her babies were cold or had frozen or something, on account of they
+didn't have enough feathers on them to keep them warm.
+
+Mom stopped me at the door, though, saying, "Bill, if you like, you
+may wash your hands and finish setting the table--put the bread on,
+and pour a glass of water for everyone, and milk for you and Jim."
+
+I was surprised at Mom calling Little Jim just Jim, but I sorta felt
+it was because she thought it made Little Jim sound bigger than he
+was, and Mom knew it would make him feel good, Mom being a very smart
+person and knew how to make boys like her.
+
+"Anything I can do?" Little Jim asked Mom politely. Mom let him pour
+the water into the glasses for me, and when we finished helping her,
+she said we could go out to the barn if we wanted to, but to be ready
+to come running as soon as she called us, which we probably would be
+on account of the oven was open right that minute and I could smell
+the baked chicken and knew that it was going to be a wonderful dinner.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Hi, Mixy!" Little Jim said to our black and white cat which was lying
+in a cozy nest of her own at the bottom of the ladder which went up to
+our haymow. Little Jim stooped down to pet her, and she lifted her
+head without standing up and rubbed the sides of her pretty black and
+white face against his small hand, and mewed lazily, with half-closed
+blinking eyes.
+
+I could hardly wait till we got up in the haymow and could climb up
+Pop's new ladder to the cupola to see if Snow-white was home again, so
+I started to go up the first ladder first, noticing that there was
+dirt on the ladder that might have been made by somebody with boots or
+shoes on that had dirty snow on them, and I knew Bob Till and Shorty
+Long had been there. How many pigeons had they caught? I wondered, and
+felt an angry feeling inside of me, 'cause if there was anything the
+boys of the Sugar Creek Gang _didn't_ do, it was we didn't go into
+anybody's barn and catch pigeons without the farmer asking us to, or
+without us first asking the farmer if we could.
+
+Right that minute, while Little Jim was stroking Mixy, and I had my
+hand and one foot on the ladder ready to start up, I heard Pop's voice
+calling from somewhere up in the haymow, and saying to us. "Bill! Are
+you down there?"
+
+"Yeah," I yelled back up to him, "Little Jim and I are _both_ here.
+We're coming up!" Pop's voice had a worried sound in it, and also
+sounded like maybe I had done something I shouldn't have, or else had
+maybe left something _un_done which I should have done.
+
+Then Pop's voice called down to us, and this time it sounded even more
+like I thought it had, when Pop said, "Where'd you put my new ladder?
+I can't find it anywhere."
+
+New ladder! I thought, and wondered, What on earth! Why just yesterday
+I'd used it to climb up to Snow-white's nest and had left it right
+there, with the top of it resting on the beam on the south side of the
+cupola.
+
+"It's right there!" I yelled up to Pop, "Right there in the center of
+the haymow, going up into the cupola."
+
+"It IS not!" Pop yelled back down to me, "and I've looked all over the
+haymow for it."
+
+I looked at Little Jim, and he was still stooped over stroking Mixy
+who was standing up now and stretching herself and reaching up with
+her front claws and doing some kind of monkey-business with Little
+Jim's trousers, taking hold, and letting go, and taking hold, and
+letting go, and acting very contented.
+
+Then I went lickety-sizzle up the ladder to the haymow and sure enough
+Pop was right! The pretty new ladder which Pop had bought and which
+I'd left right where I'd told Pop I'd left it, was gone.
+
+"I left it right here," I said to Pop, and then I had a queer feeling
+inside of me, as I thought about two boys whose names you already know
+and wondered if they had stolen it. There wasn't a sign of the ladder
+anywhere in the whole haymow, and I was looking in every direction.
+
+"'Smatter?" Little Jim asked, when his head appeared at the top of the
+ladder beside where I was standing, and he looked up at my and Pop's
+astonished faces.
+
+"Somebody's stolen our ladder," I said, "a brand new one Pop just
+bought last week."
+
+"_Stolen_ it?" Little Jim asked, and he had a puzzled expression on
+his face, and I knew what he was going to say before he said it, and
+it was, "Are you sure?" You know, Little Jim always had a hard time
+believing anybody was bad, or would do anything wrong, on account of
+he hardly ever did anything wrong himself, and, also, 'cause he liked
+everybody. So when he said, "Are you sure?" Pop said, "No, we're not
+sure, till Bill has tried first to remember if maybe he moved it
+somewhere else."
+
+I looked all around in a quick circle at the haymow, and I thought
+that if Bob Till and Shorty Long _had_ been there, they might have
+hidden it under some hay just for meanness, so I got a pitch fork and
+started to jab it into the hay all around in different places in the
+haymow, and Pop looked in a tunnel under a long beam, and also we all
+looked down stairs and all around. Once I looked up into the cupola,
+and had a half-glad feeling in my heart when I saw Snow-white's white
+head peeking out over the edge of the beam she had her nest on, like
+she had just come back, and was wondering "What on earth" anybody
+wanted with a ladder anyway, she not needing any herself.
+
+Just then we heard Mom calling for dinner, and we had to go, all of us
+being very hungry. I knew Pop was having a hard time believing me,
+that I hadn't moved the ladder, on account of many a time Pop had
+missed something around the farm and later he or I or somebody had
+found it where I'd been using it or playing with it, in some place I'd
+forgotten all about.
+
+But there wasn't any use to look for it. It was gone, and not a one of
+us knew where--only I was absolutely sure that Bob Till and Shorty
+Long had hidden it somewhere. I told Mom and Pop what I thought had
+happened, and we all talked it over pretty excitedly at the dinner
+table.
+
+After dinner we all looked again, looking all around the barn, inside
+and out, and also jabbing forks and shovels in the biggest piles of
+snow around the barn, to see if maybe it had been covered up with
+snow, and still we couldn't find it. Pop was pretty mad, also, on
+account of about six of our pigeons were missing, and it looked like
+there had been somebody jumping and running all over the alfalfa hay
+which we fed to our cows. "How would YOU like to eat a piece of _pie_
+that some boy's dirty boots had walked all over?" Pop asked. That
+tickled Little Jim, and he giggled.
+
+Pretty soon Mom and Pop said Little Jim and I could go over to
+Poetry's house if we wanted to, and we could play in Poetry's nice new
+basement.
+
+It was while we were at Poetry's house that we saw the ladder, and
+you'd never guess in the world where it was, and most certainly you'd
+never guess in the world all the excitement we were going to get mixed
+up in before the afternoon was over.
+
+
+
+
+9
+
+
+We'd been having a wonderful time, playing pingpong and checkers, and
+Little Jim was playing the organ in Poetry's basement while Poetry and
+I made a lot of boy noise playing a tie-off game of pingpong, when we
+heard a door open at the head of the stairway leading down into the
+basement, and somebody sneezed, and we knew it was Dragonfly who had
+come over to play with Poetry. Poetry's parents had gone visiting
+somewhere, calling on some sick people in the Sugar Creek hospital, so
+we could make more noise and it wouldn't disturb any grown-up people's
+nerves, and would also be good for ours, it being almost as hard on a
+boy's nerves to be quiet, as it is on a grown-up person's nerves when
+a boy is noisy.
+
+Poetry and I stopped our game and yelled up to Dragonfly to come on
+down and "play the winner," which meant either Poetry or me.
+
+Dragonfly sneezed twice on his way down, he maybe being allergic to
+something he'd smelled when he came in, or else it was the change from
+the cold outside air to the warm inside air.
+
+Poetry won that last game, and it meant he was the champion, so he
+and Dragonfly started in like a house-afire batting that pingpong
+ball back and forth, back and forth, bang, sock, whizz, sizzle,
+ping-ping-ping-ping, pong-pong-pong-pong, sock, sock, sock.... Say,
+that little spindle-legged Dragonfly was _good_. He won the first game
+right off the bat. He really was a good athlete for such a thin little
+guy. "Hey, you guys!" he said, pretending to be very proud of himself,
+"Isn't there a window somewhere we can open? I want to throw out my
+chest," which was an old joke, but sounded funny for Dragonfly to say
+it, his chest being very flat.
+
+"Sure," Poetry said, "but we can get air quicker by opening the door
+at the top of the stairs," and with that he shuffled up the stairs and
+opened the door, and just as he did so, I heard a horse sneeze and a
+man's voice saying, "Whoa, there, Prince! Stand still!" and I knew it
+was our new teacher, Mr. Black. Just that second, Dragonfly sneezed
+again, and said to Poetry, "I'm allergic to horses. Shut that door!"
+
+"Hello!" a voice called. "Anybody at home?"
+
+Well, I can't tell you all that happened for the next fifteen minutes,
+on account of I have to hurry with the rest of this story, but Mr.
+Black was very kind to us boys. He came down into the basement, and
+took a flashlight picture of us with our pingpong balls and paddles
+and with Little Jim at the organ, and didn't say a word about the snow
+man we knew he'd seen yesterday, or the book, or anything. He was very
+nice, and a little later when he rode away on his great big beautiful
+prancing saddle horse, I thought maybe he was going to be a good
+teacher after all. The last thing he said to us just before he swung
+prancing Prince around and jogged up Poetry's lane to the house, was,
+"Well, I'll see you boys in the morning at school.... I'm going to
+ride over now and get the fire started. I let it go out over Saturday
+to save fuel.... But the weather report is for a cold wave tonight, so
+I think I'll get the fire going good, and it'll be cozy as a bug in a
+rug tomorrow morning when everybody comes."
+
+It certainly was a pretty horse, and he certainly knew how to ride
+him; and the big beautiful brown saddle and Mr. Black's riding habit
+made me wish I had a big brown horse and a riding outfit and could go
+galloping around all over Sugar Creek territory.
+
+Almost right away, we all decided to play outdoors awhile, 'cause if
+there was going to be a real cold wave tonight, it meant that tomorrow
+we'd all have to stay inside the school most of the time, 'cause
+sometimes a cold wave in Sugar Creek territory meant twenty degrees
+below zero.... Poetry went in the house and got his binoculars and we
+all climbed up on their chicken house which didn't have any snow on
+its roof, and started to look around Sugar Creek at different things.
+Little Jim grinned when he noticed there wasn't any snow on the roof
+of the chicken house, and said, "That certainly was a good sermon this
+morning," then he grunted and sat down astride the chicken house roof,
+right close to a little tin chimney out of which white smoke was
+coming, there being a kerosene heater inside the chicken house.
+
+"It sure was," Poetry said, with the binoculars focused in the
+direction Mr. Black had gone.
+
+"Here, Bill, look at him, will you.... He's stopping at Circus's
+house. Suppose maybe he's going to take a picture of one of Circus's
+sisters?"
+
+Dragonfly giggled when Poetry said that, and I felt hot inside, on
+account of Circus had a lot of sisters, and one of them was a real
+honest-to-goodness girl who wasn't afraid of mice or spiders, and
+sometimes I carried her dinner pail to school. I knew Dragonfly was
+trying to tease me, so I said, "Here, let me see."
+
+A jiffy later I was looking at Mr. Black stopping his big horse at
+Circus's house. Just that second, Dragonfly shoved his hands against
+my knees behind me, and both my knees buckled, and I swung around a
+little, and when I looked again toward Circus's house, the binoculars
+were focused, not on his house, but on our red brick schoolhouse
+farther across the field, and all of a sudden I let out a gasp and a
+yell, and felt a queer feeling inside of me, for right there on the
+north side of the schoolhouse was a ladder leaning up against the
+eaves and--yes, I could see it as plain as day, there was something
+that looked like a flat board lying right across the top of the
+schoolhouse chimney....
+
+It was even plainer than day what had happened, and that was that
+Shorty Long and Bob Till had been to our house and barn while we were
+in church and had stolen Snow-white and some other pigeons and then
+seeing how nice and light and easy to carry Pop's new ladder was, and
+remembering the story of _The Hoosier Schoolmaster_, and both of the
+boys not liking the Sugar Creek Gang, and Shorty Long especially not
+liking me terribly much, they had borrowed the ladder and had used it
+to put the board on the chimney, so Mr. Black would be smoked out when
+he started the fire, and I, Bill Collins, and maybe all the Sugar
+Creek Gang, would get into even more trouble with Mr. Black, and--
+
+I was thinking all those worried thoughts in less than a jiffy while I
+was looking through those binoculars, and was still standing on the
+roof of Poetry's pop's chicken house, with Poetry and Little Jim
+beside me.
+
+I must have let out a very excited gasp, 'cause Poetry said,
+"'Smatter, Bill?" and Little Jim said in his mouse-like voice which
+was also excited for a change, "See anything important?"
+
+Dragonfly was on the ground in front of me and he yelled up and said
+"What's the matter?" then he sneezed, which is what people sometimes
+do when all of a sudden they look up and the sun gets into their eyes,
+which it did in Dragonfly's eyes right that second.
+
+"Quick!" I yelled to the gang. "Come on, we've got to get to the
+schoolhouse before Mr. Black does or the schoolhouse will catch on
+fire maybe." The ladder was on the side of the schoolhouse where I
+knew Mr. Black wouldn't see it when he got there. I whirled around,
+made a leap for the ground, landed in a snow drift, got out of it in a
+hurry, and raced as fast as I could down Poetry's lane toward the
+highway.
+
+Poetry and Dragonfly and Little Jim came whizzing along behind me,
+yelling what was the matter and why was I in such a hurry, and how on
+earth could the schoolhouse catch on fire, and why did we have to get
+there first, before Mr. Black did.
+
+I still had Poetry's binoculars in my hand, and was running, panting,
+dodging drifts, and all the time I could see in my mind's eye Pop's
+new ladder leaning up against the schoolhouse, and I knew that if Mr.
+Black ever saw it and found out whose it was, I'd have a hard time
+explaining it to him that I hadn't done it.
+
+In between pants, I managed to get it into the heads of the rest of
+the gang what I'd seen, and why I was in a hurry. "We've got to get
+there first, and get that board off the chimney or the room will be
+filled with smoke and maybe there will be an explosion."
+
+I remember that in _The Hoosier Schoolmaster_, there had really been
+_some_ smoke....
+
+Poetry who was my best friend, almost, was as mad as I was, and he
+said, behind me between his short breath, "Those dirty bums! They're
+the cause of _all_ our trouble with our new teacher!"
+
+And would you believe it? Little Jim heard him say that, yelled to us,
+and said, "Are you sure?" Imagine him not being sure.
+
+We took a short cut we knew about, and once when we were on the top of
+a little hill in Dragonfly's pop's woods, we stopped and Poetry and I
+took a couple of quick looks through his binoculars toward Circus'
+house, to see if Mr. Black was still there, and his horse was, so we
+guessed he was too.
+
+I saw him out in their back yard and a whole flock of girls was lined
+up against their woodshed and he was taking their picture. I didn't
+see Circus there anywhere, and I wished he was with us, on account of
+he could run faster than any of us and also climb better.
+
+"Come on!" I yelled to the rest of the guys with me, "we can make it,
+I think." Away we went.
+
+"Wait!" Dragonfly yelled from pretty far back. "I'm out of breath.
+I--can't--can't run so--fast!" which he couldn't.
+
+All of a sudden, Poetry stopped and said, "We're crazy, Bill, we can't
+make it. Look! There he goes now, right straight toward the
+schoolhouse. Quick! Drop down! He's looking this way!"
+
+He ducked behind a rail fence which is where we were at the time, and
+I dropped down beside him. Dragonfly was still coming along not more
+than fifty feet behind us, with little Jim staying back with him.
+
+I hated to stop, and I hated to have to realize what was happening,
+but it was, and that was that Mr. Black was going to get to the
+schoolhouse first and he'd start the fire in the schoolhouse stove
+first, on account of he wouldn't see the ladder first, 'cause it was
+on the opposite side of the school from the woodshed where he kept his
+kindling wood.
+
+I'd seen Mr. Black start fires in the Poetry-shaped iron stove before,
+and this is the way he always did it.... He'd go straight to the
+corner of the schoolhouse under the long shelf where we all kept our
+dinner pails, and pick up a tin can of kerosene which he kept in the
+corner, and in which he kept some neat little sticks standing. Those
+little sticks would be all soaked with kerosene from having stood
+there all night or longer, and he'd take them to the stove and lay
+them in carefully, along with other small pieces of wood and a few
+larger pieces, and then he would very carefully light a match and
+touch the flame to the kerosene-soaked sticks, and right away there
+would be a nice fire....
+
+I knew it would take Mr. Black only a little while to lay the fire,
+and in a few minutes the fire in the stove would be roaring away. But
+with the board on the chimney, the smoke couldn't get out, and it'd
+have to come out of the stove somewhere, which it would, and the
+schoolhouse would be filled with smoke in a jiffy; also I remembered
+the Christmas tree which we'd left up since Christmas, wasn't more
+than fifteen feet from the stove, and its needles were dry enough to
+burn....
+
+Something had to be done in a hurry, and yet there was Mr. Black
+getting closer and closer to the schoolhouse.... In fact, it was
+already too late to get there before he went inside, without being
+seen. I knew that if I got there in time to hurry up that ladder and
+take off the board, I'd have to do it _after_ Mr. Black got inside,
+and before he could get the fire laid and started....
+
+The rail fence behind which we were hiding right that minute was on
+the same side of the school the ladder was, and about as far from the
+school as our barn is from our house....
+
+All of us were squatted down behind the fence now, and I took charge
+of the gang and said, "You guys stay here. The very minute he gets in,
+I'll dive out of here and make a bee-line for the schoolhouse, and zip
+up the ladder and take the board off. Then I'll climb back down, take
+the ladder and drag it around behind the schoolhouse quick, and come
+back here.... Then tonight or sometime after Mr. Black goes home, some
+of us'll sneak over and bring the ladder home, and everything'll be
+all right."
+
+It was a good idea if only it would work, which it had to, or I just
+knew that the gentleman I'd made up my mind I was going to try to be,
+would get a terrible licking, which any gentleman shouldn't have to
+have, or he isn't one, which I wasn't, yet, anyway....
+
+"Let ME do it," Poetry said beside me, puffing hard from the fast run
+we'd just had, and Dragonfly said, "The ladder'd break with you on
+it," trying to be funny and not being.
+
+Little Jim piped up and said, "All the snow's off the roof right next
+to the chimney." I looked at him real quick, and he had a far-away
+look in his eyes, like he was not only looking at the dry roof all
+around the schoolhouse chimney, but was thinking something very
+important, which he'd heard in church that morning, but which I
+hadn't....
+
+"Here goes," I said, my heart beating wildly. "You guys stay here, and
+watch," and Little Jim piped up and said, "We will--we'll watch
+and--and--" I knew what he was going to say even before he said it,
+and for some reason it seemed like it was all right for him to say it,
+and it didn't sound sissified for him to, either. While I was climbing
+over that rail fence and making a dive for the schoolhouse and the
+ladder, Little Jim's whole sentence was tumbling around in my mind,
+and it was, "We will--we'll watch and--and _pray_."
+
+Little Jim was almost as good a friend of mine, as Tom Till was, I
+thought....
+
+A jiffy later I reached my pop's new ladder and started to start up
+when I heard somebody running behind me and saying in a husky whisper,
+"Hey, Bill! Stop. Wait! Let me hold the ladder."
+
+I looked around quick and it was Poetry behind me, and I knew he was
+right. My pop had taught me never to go up a ladder until I was sure
+the bottom of it was safely set so it _wouldn't_ slip, or unless
+somebody stayed at the bottom to hold it so it _couldn't_.
+
+A jiffy later, I was on my way up, and another steenth of a jiffy I
+was at the eaves, and, being a very good climber, I scrambled up the
+other little ladder that was made out of nailed-on boards, to the red
+brick chimney. I had to be as quiet as I could, though, on account of
+not wanting Mr. Black to hear me on the roof. I also was going to have
+to be careful when I took the board off so the sound of it sliding off
+wouldn't go down the chimney through the stove.
+
+In another jiffy I'd have had the board off, and have given it a toss
+far out where it wouldn't have hit Poetry, and then I'd have been on
+my way down again, but when I took hold of the wide, flat board, I
+couldn't any more get it off than anything. I gasped out-loud when I
+saw why I couldn't get it off, and that was that there was a nail
+driven into each end of it, and a piece of stove pipe wire was wrapped
+around the head of each nail and then the wire was twisted around and
+around the brick chimney, down where it was smaller, and that crazy
+old board wouldn't budge--an almost _new_ board, rather, and as soon
+as I saw it, I knew it was the board out of the swing which we have in
+the walnut tree at our house.... Why, the dirty crooks! I thought.
+They wanted it to be _sure_ to look like Bill Collins put it up here.
+
+I was holding onto the chimney, in fact I was sort of behind it, so I
+wouldn't slide down.... I could hear sounds down in the schoolhouse of
+somebody doing something to the stove, which must have been Mr. Black
+finishing laying the fire, 'cause right that second I heard a sound
+like an iron door closing on the big round iron Poetry-shaped stove,
+and almost a second later, a puff of bluish smoke came bursting out
+through a crack where the board didn't quite cover the chimney on one
+side, and I knew that the fire was started. I knew that in a few
+jiffies that one-room school would be filled with smoke, and a mad
+teacher would come storming out to see what on earth was the matter
+with the chimney, and I'd be in for it.
+
+"Hey!" I hissed down to Poetry, shielding my voice with my hand so the
+sound would go toward Poetry instead of down the chimney. Poetry heard
+me and dived out far enough from the schoolhouse to see me, and I
+hissed to him, "It's too late. The fire's already started. What'll I
+do. I can't get it off. They've wired it on. If I had a pair of
+pliers, I could cut the wire."
+
+And Poetry yelled up to me and said, "There's a pair in the
+schoolhouse."
+
+The awfulest sounds came up the chimney from down inside the
+schoolhouse, and I could just imagine what Mr. Black was thinking, and
+maybe was saying too. Smoke was pouring out of the chimney beside my
+face, but I knew the crack was too small for _all_ the smoke to get
+out, and the room down there would be filling up with smoke....
+
+What on earth to do, was screaming at me in my mind.... Then Poetry
+had an idea and it was, "Come on down quick, and let's run. Let's
+leave the ladder and everything!"
+
+"But it's my pop's ladder, and it's our swing board, out of our walnut
+tree swing."
+
+"I say, let's _run_!" Poetry half yelled and half hissed up to me, and
+for some reason, knowing I couldn't get the board off the chimney, and
+guessing what might happen if I got caught, it seemed like Poetry's
+idea was as good as any, and so I turned and started to scoot my way
+down the board ladder on the roof to the ladder Poetry would be
+holding for me, and then--well, I don't know how it happened, but my
+boot slipped before I could get my feet on pop's ladder, and I felt
+all of me slipping toward the edge of the roof--slipping, slipping,
+slipping, and I knew I wouldn't be able to stop myself. In a jiffy,
+I'd be going slippety-sizzle over the edge of the eaves and land with
+a wham at Poetry's feet. I might even land on him and hurt him; and
+even while I was sliding, I heard a sickening sound in the schoolhouse
+somewhere, like a stove was falling down, or a chair was falling over
+or something, and then my feet were over the edge, and I was grasping
+and grasping with my bare hands at the slippery roof, and they
+couldn't find anything to hold onto, and then I heard another sound
+that was even more sickening than the one I'd heard in the schoolhouse
+and it was a ripping and tearing sound, and then felt a long sharp
+pain on me somewhere and I knew my trousers had caught on a nail or
+something....
+
+R-r-r-r-r-r-ip!... R-r-r-r-r-r-ip! Tear-r-r-r-r-! And I knew that when
+I would hit the ground in a few half jiffies, there would be a big
+hole in my trousers which I'd have to explain to Mom when I got home,
+as well as a lot of other things to both Mom and Pop.
+
+The next thing I knew I was off the edge and falling and the very next
+thing I learned awful quick, was I had landed ker-wham-thud in a snow
+drift at the foot of the ladder.
+
+
+
+
+10
+
+
+Even while I was falling and scared and feeling the long sharp pain
+running up and down my hip where I'd probably been scratched by a
+nail, I was wondering what would happen next--what Mr. Black would do,
+and what would happen when I got home, and also I was wondering how
+bad I would be hurt when I fell--and then I lit ker-fluffety-sizzle in
+that big snowdrift....
+
+And there I was, Bill Collins, the one member of the Sugar Creek Gang
+who had made up his mind he wasn't going to have anything to do with
+smoking a teacher out of his schoolhouse, the one who was going to be
+what is called a gentleman, now lying upside down in a scrambled-up
+heap, with one of my trouser legs ripped maybe half way down, and
+myself all covered with snow and with my mind all tangled up and
+everything.
+
+The fall didn't hurt much though, on account of the snowdrift being
+pretty deep, but we had to do something and do it quick.
+
+Just that minute, I heard the schoolhouse door open around in front
+and while I was trying to scramble to my feet, I looked toward the
+front of the school and right that second Mr. Black came swishing
+around on our side of the schoolhouse with a big pail in his hand and
+swooped with it down onto a snowdrift, scooped up a pailful of snow
+and without even looking in our direction dived back around the corner
+of the schoolhouse like he was half scared to death, and right that
+second Poetry yelled to Dragonfly and Little Jim who were still hiding
+behind the rail fence to "Hurry up! I think the schoolhouse is on fire
+inside! Let's go help Mr. Black put it out."
+
+And so I, Bill Collins, an imaginary gentleman, but not looking like
+even a half a one, staggered out of my snowdrift, and the four of us
+made a dive for the front of the schoolhouse and around to the open
+door, which had smoke pouring out of it, to see if we could help Mr.
+Black put out the fire, if there was one.
+
+"I can't go in," Dragonfly said, "I'm allergic to smoke. It'll make me
+sneeze."
+
+Just that second we heard Mr. Black's horse, which was tied at the
+front gate, snort and make crazy horse noises, and even before I could
+imagine what was going to happen, it had happened. There was a noise
+like a leather strap straining, and then a cracking and splintering
+sound. I looked just in time to see the little wooden gate to which
+the horse had been tied, break in two or maybe three, and part of it
+go galloping down the road being dragged by a scared wild-eyed brown
+saddle horse, and at the same time I saw a half-wild-looking man come
+running out of the smoking schoolhouse and make a wild dash through
+the place where the gate had been and go racing after the horse, not
+even seeing us boys, or if he saw us, not paying any attention to us,
+but yelling to Prince in a commanding voice to "WHOA ... W-H-O-A!"
+
+It certainly was an exciting minute, and in spite of the way I knew I
+must have looked myself, with snow all over me and with a ripped
+trouser leg and everything, Mr. Black looked even worse as he went
+racing down that road after his horse, yelling for the horse to
+stop.... The very minute he went swishing past us, I noticed that his
+hands were black with soot, as also was his face, and he really looked
+like a wild man, and for some reason even while everything else was
+all topsy turvy in my mind, I couldn't help but remember Poetry's
+poetry which went:
+
+  "_The Sugar Creek Gang had the worst of teachers,
+    And 'Black' his named was called;
+  His round, red face had the homeliest of features;
+    He was fat and forty and bald_"--
+
+only his face was black as well as his name, and I knew if he hadn't
+been bald, his hair would certainly have been all mussed up like mine
+is most of the time when my hat is off, only Mr. Black's fur hat was
+still on.
+
+Say, Prince certainly wasn't in any horse mood to stop, on account of
+being scared, I suppose, what with the smoke pouring out of the
+schoolhouse, and all the noise which the stove had made, and with the
+gang making a noise and running excitedly, and everything. That horse
+with a gate tied to its bridle rein probably was as scared as a dog or
+a cat is when a boy that ought to know better ties a tin can to its
+tail and shouldn't and it gets scared and runs, and keeps on
+running....
+
+Prince kept running and the piece of gate kept swinging in different
+directions. Every time the horse turned his head this way or that, the
+gate would swing around and sock him in the side and scare him maybe
+even worse. I thought how terrible it would be if Prince would get his
+feet all tangled up in part of the gate, and fall, and maybe break one
+of his legs and have to be killed, which is what nearly always has to
+be done to a horse when it breaks one of its legs, on account of you
+can't get a horse to be quiet for weeks and months long enough for its
+leg to heal. I certainly wouldn't want such a pretty horse to have to
+be killed....
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Ho hum--say, if I don't get going faster, telling you this story,
+it'll be too long to get it into one book and I'll have to finish it
+some other time, so here goes just as fast as I can, till I get to the
+end....
+
+There we were--the four of us, innocent-faced Little Jim,
+dragonfly-eyed Dragonfly, barrel-shaped Poetry, and me, red-haired,
+freckle-faced Bill Collins--and there was Mr. Black and his horse
+getting farther and farther up the road which was the road that leads
+past Circus' and Big Jim's houses, which as you know are on the other
+side of the road from each other.
+
+But we couldn't stand there and just watch a runaway horse with a man
+chasing it, when a schoolhouse was on fire, or was supposed to be. I'd
+been so excited about the runaway horse that I'd almost forgotten the
+schoolhouse.
+
+I turned around quick to the door, and would you believe it? Little
+Jim and Poetry and Dragonfly were already inside and I'd been
+standing out there by what used to be a gate, watching Mr. Black and
+his horse all by myself! Even Dragonfly was inside although he had
+opened one of the windows and was standing leaning half way out and
+breathing fresh air so he wouldn't sneeze, he, as you know, being
+allergic to smoke. That schoolhouse certainly looked funny with the
+sunlight which came in from the windows, shining through the bluish
+smoke, so that things at first weren't very clear to my eyes, but when
+about a half-jiffy later, my eyes were accustomed to the dark light, I
+saw a really crazy looking schoolhouse. There on the teacher's desk,
+upside down, was the teacher's great big swivel chair; and the brooms
+and the mop were piled on top of that, and on the blackboard written
+in great big letters with chalk, was Poetry's poem about a teacher not
+having any hair. The old Christmas tree which had been standing so
+pretty and straight in a corner of the platform was lying on the
+floor, and the popcorn and paper chains which the Sugar Creek pupils
+had made were in a tangled up mess all over the tree and the floor.
+The stove door was open and the fire box was half-filled with snow,
+which maybe Mr. Black had scooped in to put out the fire he'd started
+awhile ago.
+
+All that mess, with the turned-over tree and Poetry's poem and the
+topsyturvy desk and chair, meant that two boys you know about had not
+only put the board across the chimney but had crawled into the
+schoolhouse through one of the windows maybe and upset things, then
+had printed the poem there for our teacher to see and--well, you can
+guess I wasn't feeling very much like a gentleman. I knew that if
+Shorty Long and Bob Till were right there right that minute I'd
+probably prove to them that I wasn't one yet.
+
+It was Little Jim who woke us all up that something had to be done. We
+were all sort of standing helpless, looking around at the mess, when
+he piped up and said in a voice that sounded like he was the leader of
+the gang, "Hey, you guys! Let's DO something, before he gets back.
+Let's straighten things up, and maybe when he comes he'll believe that
+we didn't do it!"
+
+Then Dragonfly whirled around from his window, and said, "They're
+clear down to Circus's house already, and the horse just turned in to
+their barnyard," which made me want to make a dive for the window to
+look too, but I didn't 'cause all of a sudden Little Jim said
+something else which was, "Let's start the fire for him real quick,
+and that'll show him we like him," and that started my mind to
+working.
+
+"We can't," I said, "the board's still across the chimney and we can't
+get it off."
+
+That started Poetry to thinking and he made a heavy dive for the long
+shelf along the back wall, and right there where they had been, only
+there was some stove pipe wire beside them, were the pliers. In a
+jiffy, Poetry and I were back outside, and with him holding the ladder
+and with me all trembling inside, but not too nervous to climb, I went
+up that ladder, hand over hand, and in less than a half-dozen worried
+jiffies, had our swing board off the chimney and tossed it out into a
+snow drift. When I was down again, Poetry and I whisked the ladder
+back behind the schoolhouse, and with our feet, covered it with snow,
+and also the swing board, and when we got back inside the schoolhouse,
+Little Jim and Dragonfly had used their hands and had taken the little
+fire shovel and scooped out as much of the snow out of the stove as
+they could and had laid the fire again, like we all knew how to do,
+from having seen our parents do it. Poetry shoved his hand in his
+pocket for his water-proof match box, and in a little while we had a
+roaring fire in the big round iron stove. Then all of us started in to
+cleaning up the schoolhouse as fast as we could.
+
+Poetry grabbed an eraser and as quick and as fierce as a cat jumping
+on a mouse, leaped toward the blackboard and swished his poetry into
+nothing; Little Jim found a dust cloth and went up one row of seats
+and down another, carefully dusting each one just like I imagine he'd
+been taught at home--not swishing the cloth around too fast which
+would make more dust. I began to try to untangle the Christmas tree
+from the popcorn strings and paper chains, thinking how nice the tree
+would look standing up in the corner again, when all of a sudden
+Dragonfly hissed and said, "Hey! Everybody! Come here, quick! See what
+I found!"
+
+Dragonfly had been standing by a wide open window on account of there
+was still too much smoke in the room for him to breathe without
+sneezing. The Sugar Creek School's great big unabridged dictionary was
+wide open on a shelf which was fastened to the wall by the window.
+
+Before we could get there, Dragonfly said excitedly, "It's Mr. Black's
+diary!"
+
+Well, if there is anything a person wants to read, and shouldn't and
+mustn't, it's somebody's diary, unless that person tells him to. My
+parents had told me that when I was little, and Pop had licked me once
+for reading his, and so I knew Dragonfly shouldn't have read Mr.
+Black's diary, so when I got to where he was and saw him looking at a
+pretty leather bound notebook lying flat open on the big open
+dictionary I said, "Stop reading that! It's not good etiquette," which
+is, "not good manners," or something.
+
+I certainly wasn't going to turn any pages of the diary and read them,
+I said to myself, remembering what my parents had told me, and also
+the half hard licking my pop had given me for reading his, when he
+told me not to, but when I got to where Dragonfly was and looked to
+see if it really was Mr. Black's diary, without even trying to I saw
+on the page that was half open, written in printed letters, these
+words:
+
+  "_The Sugar Creek Gang had the worst of teachers,
+    And 'Black' his named was called...."
+
+For some reason it didn't look very funny. In fact, it seemed like
+anybody who had first thought up such a poem must have been crazy in
+the head.
+
+I knew I shouldn't have been reading, and I decided to quit quick,
+which I did, only I saw one other thing just as my eyes were leaving
+the page, and it was:
+
+"Things have come to a show down with the boys. I know I'm going to
+have to take drastic action soon."
+
+"What's '_drastic_' mean?" Dragonfly wanted to know, just as I turned
+away, and I knew he'd read what I'd read, so I said, "I don't know,
+but whatever it is, I'll bet it'll hurt like everything." I reached
+out my hand and laid it down flat on the opened diary, so I wouldn't
+read anything else, when Dragonfly said, "Psst! Listen!"
+
+We all listened for a half jiffy and things were so quiet in that
+still-half-smokey room we could hear only the crackling of the fire in
+the stove, when all of a sudden there was a step on the schoolhouse
+porch, and the door was thrust open and there stood Mr. Black himself,
+looking right straight at us.
+
+
+
+
+11
+
+
+Well, when four boys get caught doing something they're not sure
+they're supposed to be doing, they don't know what to do or what to
+say, and sometimes they start talking right away to explain _why_ they
+are doing what they're doing--which is what _we_ started to do--that
+is we _started_ to, but all of us talking at once didn't make sense,
+so we stopped. This is what we all said though: Dragonfly said, "Good
+morning, Mr. Black!" which is what you say to a teacher when it _is_
+morning and you are trying to be polite; Poetry said, "Somebody wrote
+a crazy poem about you on the black, Mr. Blackboard, and I erased it";
+Little Jim said, "That certainly was a good sermon this morning, Mr.
+Black"; and I, William Jasper Collins, with my torn trousers and my
+freckled face and my rumpled red hair and my mussed-up mind said, "I
+hope you don't have to shoot him if he broke his leg. He didn't break
+it, did he?"
+
+All of us said most of these things at the same time, while we were
+standing in a semi-circle around the unabridged dictionary with the
+open notebook on it.
+
+Mr. Black was puffing and panting, he being Poetry-shaped as well as
+the stove, but he all of a sudden said, "Wait, boys, don't move! I
+want to get your pictures, right where you are, and _as_ you are."
+Before we could decide to move or not to move, he whirled around,
+hurried over toward the shelf where we always set our dinner pails on
+school days, and came back with his camera which we hadn't noticed had
+been there. It was a very pretty camera and was the kind people used
+when they took a flashlight picture.
+
+What on earth he wanted a picture of us for, I didn't know, unless it
+was so he could prove to anybody who didn't believe it, that we were a
+bunch of roughnecks. Quick as a blinding flash he had our picture
+taken, and then he whirled around like he wanted to take some more
+pictures, and stopped and stared at the Christmas tree which I had
+stood back up in the corner, with the popcorn and paper chains tangled
+up on it, and at the erased blackboard and at his desk which didn't
+have any chairs upside down on it, and he said, "Who straightened up
+this room! Did you boys do that!"
+
+"Yes, sir," I said, "we did; we wanted to prove to you that we didn't
+do it."
+
+"You WHAT!"
+
+"We wanted to prove to you that we didn't _do_ it!" Little Jim said.
+
+Mr. Black looked at Little Jim and at all of us like he thought we
+were even crazier than we felt, and he said, "Prove you didn't do
+_what_?"
+
+"That we didn't put the board across the--OUCH!" Dragonfly started to
+talk, but stopped his sentence with an OUCH when I quick kicked him on
+the shin.
+
+Mr. Black's eyes opened wide. Then for the first time he seemed to
+notice that the fire was going again and that the stove wasn't smoking
+so he scratched his head above his left ear, hurried over to the stove
+with the camera in his hand, set his camera on his big desk, opened
+the stove's door and shut it again, and just stood there, looking
+first at the stove and then at us, and I wished I knew what he was
+thinking; then I noticed that his eyes glanced off in the direction of
+the blackboard and to the beech switches which were lying on a ledge
+at the top. I could just see myself and all of us getting a licking in
+about seven jiffies. I started to edge toward the door, but he must
+have guessed what I was thinking, 'cause he barked a command to me
+which was "William Collins! Stop where you are!"
+
+I stopped stock still, trembling inside of me, wondering what the word
+"drastic" was going to mean.
+
+Then Mr. Black barked to me, "Go to the blackboard and get me those
+beech switches!" There was a tone of voice in his words which made me
+start toward the blackboard instead of toward the only door the
+schoolhouse had. I had to pass Dragonfly's open window which was still
+open, on account of there was still some smoke in the room. It would
+have been easy for me to make a dive out of that window but I didn't
+want to leave the gang alone there with an angry teacher. I also had
+to pass close to the unabridged dictionary, and I all of a quick
+sudden decided if I knew what the word "_drastic_" meant, it might
+give me an idea what to do next, so I stopped, and quick turned the
+pages to the letter "D" and was trying to find _drastic_, when Mr.
+Black barked a question at me, and it was, "Young MAN! _What_ are you
+_doing_?"
+
+I jumped like I had been shot, but made myself say as calmly as I
+could, over my shoulder, "I just wanted to look up an important word
+first. I'll get the switches in just a minute."
+
+"If the word is _punishment_," Mr. Black said to me angrily, "it's a
+_noun_, and it means _beech switches_.... You bring them to me!" And I
+knew I had to do it. I stopped looking in the dictionary, and feeling
+simply terrible inside of me, on account of not having done anything
+wrong on purpose, but knowing Mr. Black wouldn't believe us even if we
+told him, I got the switches and took them toward him, but was so
+nervous I dropped one of them.... Say, Little Jim who is very quick
+when he makes up his mind to do something, made a dive for the floor,
+picked up the switch I'd dropped and quick took the other one out of
+my hand, and handed them both to Mr. Black and said to him very
+politely, "Here you are, sir, with all the old brown dead leaves
+gone--every one of them."
+
+"What on _earth_?" I thought, and looked at Little Jim's face and then
+at Mr. Black's.
+
+Say our teacher's face had all of a sudden the queerest expression on
+it, and he looked at Little Jim like he wondered "What on _earth_?"
+himself.
+
+Then he looked at me, and his face was hard again.
+
+Right that second I remembered my torn trousers, and the place where
+they were torn clear through to the skin. The scratch was still
+hurting, so I said, "If you're--if you're going to lick me, d-don't
+hit me on my scratched thigh!" I turned sidewise to him, stooped over
+part way, and showed him my torn trousers and the reddish scratch on
+my thigh, which for some reason didn't look half as bad as I wished it
+did, right that minute.
+
+Mr. Black frowned, and asked fast, "Where'd you get that scratch!" and
+Dragonfly said, "When he was up on the--OUCH!" I stopped Dragonfly
+with a kick on his shin again.
+
+"What's that? Where'd you say he got it?" Mr. Black barked his
+question to Dragonfly, and before any of us could stop him, Dragonfly
+had said, "On the schoolhouse roof."
+
+I just couldn't believe Dragonfly was that dumb--that he didn't know
+he oughtn't to tell where I'd gotten that scratch. I remembered with a
+mad thought that we'd had trouble with Dragonfly once before, on
+account of he had been friends with Shorty Long.
+
+There wasn't any time to think or to remember anything else Dragonfly
+had done, but it certainly didn't feel good to have one of our own
+gang be what is called a "tattletale." Why he was supposed to be one
+of my very best friends!
+
+I looked at Little Jim and Poetry to see what they thought and to see
+if they could think of anything that might help us from getting a
+licking with those leaveless beech switches. Poetry had a pucker on
+his forehead like he was thinking, or maybe trying to, and Little Jim
+had that innocent lamb-like look on his small face which when he looks
+like that, always reminds me of the picture his mom has on the wall
+above their piano in their house, of the Good Shepherd with a little
+lamb in his arms, with the Good Shepherd's hand on the little lamb's
+poll, which is the top of its head....
+
+Then in a flash I was seeing Mr. Black again standing with one hand on
+his hip and the other holding onto one of the beech switches, he
+having laid the other switch down on Sylvia's little sister's desk,
+which was beside and behind him.
+
+"And _what_," Mr. Black said to me, "were you doing on the schoolhouse
+_roof_?"
+
+Well, I hated to tell him because I thought he wouldn't believe it,
+and another reason I hated to tell him was because if I did, it would
+mean I'd have to tell him somebody _else_ had put the board ON the
+chimney, and that wouldn't be fair to Little Tom Till who was Bob's
+brother, and also on account of my mom was trying to get Shorty Long's
+mom to be a Christian, and I hated to be a tattletale about Shorty
+and Bob, so I just stood there, without answering Mr. Black.
+
+"_Answer_ me!" he demanded. I could see he was getting really angry. I
+took one quick look at the door to see if I could dive past him and
+get there first and make a wild dash for home. I saw Little Jim's face
+and it reminded me again of the Bible picture above his piano, and
+that reminded me of a Bible verse I'd memorized, which was, "A soft
+answer turneth away wrath," and I thought of Mr. Black's pretty horse
+and said, politely, "Your horse is the prettiest horse I ever saw. I
+hope he didn't fall and break his leg."
+
+I looked at Poetry and he winked at me, and said to Mr. Black, "It'll
+get dark pretty soon and if there's going to be a cold wave tonight,
+we'd better help you carry in plenty of wood. We'll help you bank the
+fire good."
+
+But it was Little Jim who saved us from trouble, when he said what he
+said, and it was, "That was a good sermon this morning, wasn't it, Mr.
+Black? All of us are going to try not to be mad at you any more, and
+if we've done anything wrong, we're sorry. We hope you won't give us a
+licking, but if you do, we won't even get mad."
+
+Mr. Black looked down at that innocent looking little face, and kept
+on looking at it, and then he seemed to get a far-away expression in
+his eyes like he was thinking about something that wasn't in the
+schoolhouse. I noticed his hand that had the switch in it was
+trembling, and I knew he was really mad which is the way my hands
+sometimes shake when I feel that way.
+
+Then he looked up like he was hearing something outside, and without
+saying anything turned and with the switches in his hands, walked with
+heavy steps over to the window and looked out, with his back to us. I
+could hear him breathing heavily like he had been running, and there
+was a terrible feeling inside of me, which is the way a boy feels when
+he knows some grown-up person is awful angry.
+
+The four of us stood by the stove and looked at different things, not
+any of us moving, and not a one of us looking at each other, except I
+glanced at different ones of us out of the corner of my eye, and then
+looked away again. I could still hear Mr. Black breathing heavily....
+I didn't look, but I guessed he was still standing and looking out
+into the late afternoon sunlight on the snow.
+
+Then I heard him cough a little and clear his throat, and heard him
+walking. I looked and he was going to the blackboard, where, very
+carefully, like he was afraid he'd drop one of them, he laid the beech
+switches on the shelf, then he turned and sat down in his chair at his
+desk, and picked up a book that was lying there, opened it and leafed
+through it slowly....
+
+"What on earth!" I thought.
+
+You could have knocked me over with a turkey feather, when I saw the
+kind of book he was leafing through. I'd never seen it there on that
+desk before, and I wondered where it had come from, but there it was
+as plain as day, an honest-to-goodness great big beautiful brown-bound
+Bible.
+
+All of us were so quiet, and I had such a tense feeling inside of me
+that I couldn't say a word, and didn't want to anyway. The fingers of
+one of Mr. Black's hands were sort of drumming on the desk, and he was
+looking at something in the very front of the Bible in the place where
+people nearly always write their names, to show whose Bible it is.
+
+Then real slow-like, he began to turn the pages not looking up at any
+of us, but like he was thinking about something that wasn't in the
+schoolroom. I could hear the crackling of the fire in the stove, and
+hear us all breathing. I caught a corner of Poetry's eye with a corner
+of one of mine, but couldn't tell what he was thinking. Little Jim had
+his small hands stretched out in front of him warming them at the
+stove, and Dragonfly was trying to get his father's big red bandanna
+handkerchief out of his pocket before he would sneeze about something,
+but didn't get it out quick enough and the sneeze showered itself on
+the hot stove and made a sizzling sound.
+
+Dragonfly grabbed his nose with the red handkerchief and stopped most
+of the next sneeze, so only a little tail of it exploded.
+
+The fingers of both Mr. Black's hands were drumming on the desk on
+each side of his open Bible, and he had his eyes glued to the page,
+although I could tell the way he was staring at the page that he maybe
+wasn't reading but only thinking.
+
+It was as quiet, in fact ten times as quiet, as if we were having
+school.
+
+A jiffy later, I heard Mr. Black clear his throat and say to us, "It's
+been a very exciting afternoon, boys, and I don't feel any too well. I
+think I ran too hard to catch Prince." He took a very deep breath, and
+sighed, and yawned and leaned back in his chair, without looking
+straight at us but just in our direction, just as Little Jim piped up
+and said, "Did you catch him? Was he hurt?"
+
+"Circus stopped him," Mr. Black said, "and we put him up in their barn
+till he calms down and quits trembling.... You boys want to bring in a
+couple of armloads of wood?"
+
+Well, in a few jiffies all of us boys were carrying in wood and
+stacking it in the back of the schoolroom where we would have plenty
+to keep the schoolhouse nice and warm tomorrow.
+
+I just couldn't figure it out--our not getting any licking, and Mr.
+Black reading the Bible and all of a sudden acting very kind. Why,
+when we carried in our loads of wood, he acted like he was our very
+best friend, and that we not only hadn't done anything wrong, but that
+he didn't even _think_ we had. I couldn't understand it, but all the
+time Little Jim had a happy grin on his face, while we worked, and he
+kept saying, "I thought it would work.... I was pretty sure it would,
+and it did."
+
+"_What_ worked!" I said to him, just as he opened the door for me and
+I went in with an armload of wood, and he shut the door after me.
+Dragonfly and Poetry were out in the woodshed getting another load.
+
+"Oh, something," Little Jim said, and wouldn't tell me, but he
+certainly had a cheerful expression on his face.
+
+Pretty soon when we were all done and were getting ready to go home,
+Mr. Black stopped us and said, "Wait a minute, boys, I need one more
+picture.... You know, next Wednesday night Mrs. Mansfield is going to
+give a book review of _The Hoosier Schoolmaster_ at the Literary
+Society and I've promised to illustrate the story on the screen with
+some modern pictures from real life. I ought to have one of a teacher
+putting a board on the chimney of a schoolhouse.... Leslie, you get
+that ladder I saw you boys carry behind the schoolhouse awhile ago,
+and set it up again--here, Bill, hold my Bible a minute." He thrust
+the beautiful new brown-bound Bible in my hands and started around the
+schoolhouse with Poetry to where we'd buried the ladder.
+
+"What on _earth_!" I thought, and decided he must have looked toward
+the schoolhouse once and seen us putting it there, while he was down
+the road between the schoolhouse and Circus's house.
+
+Without hardly knowing I was going to, I quick opened the Bible to the
+first blank page and what I saw was, "To my dear son, Sam Black, from
+your Mother." And right below it were printed, very carefully, the
+words:
+
+  "_This Book will keep you from sin,
+
+                  or
+
+  Sin will keep you from this Book._"
+
+In a jiffy the ladder was set up, with Little Jim and me holding it,
+and Mr. Black on his way up. Poetry who knew how to take pictures
+better than any of the rest of us was standing away out away from the
+schoolhouse, and snapped the picture, himself.
+
+While Mr. Black was still up on the roof, he called down to all of us
+in a cheerful voice and said, "That was a very clever poem you boys
+composed--you know, the one you had on the snow man yesterday, and on
+the blackboard this afternoon. I think I got a very good picture of
+both of them for next Wednesday night--the people of Sugar Creek will
+think it very clever. When I first got the idea of illustrating the
+book review for Mrs. Mansfield, I didn't know how much cooperation you
+boys were going to give me."
+
+Things still didn't make sense--I couldn't understand it.
+
+On the way home, though, with Poetry and me carrying Pop's new light
+ladder and with Little Jim carrying our swing board, all of a sudden
+Dragonfly let out a yell and made a dive for something shining in the
+road, swooped down on it and picked it up, and exclaimed, "_Good
+luck!_ No wonder we had good luck! here's a brand new horseshoe! No
+wonder we didn't get a lickin' from Mr. Black."
+
+And it was! I knew it must have come off Prince when he was running
+down this very same road about an hour ago with half a gate swinging
+on his bridle rein.
+
+Dragonfly hung the new horseshoe on his arm and said excitedly, "Will
+my mother ever be tickled! She'll hang it above our kitchen door.
+We've got three there now I found _last_ year, and this is my first
+one _this year_. Boy oh boy, it's going to be a lucky year for the
+Sugar Creek Gang!"
+
+Little Jim who had been shuffling along, ahead of the rest of us, with
+the swing board under one arm and with his stick in his other hand,
+stopped all of a sudden and looked back over our heads toward where
+the sun had just gone behind a cloud in the southwest, and he had a
+far-away expression in his eyes. He didn't pay any attention to what
+Dragonfly had said, but dropped back beside me and said, "That
+certainly was a swell sermon yesterday. I knew maybe Sylvia's pop was
+going to preach about that, and sure enough he did."
+
+"About _what_?" I asked him, Little Jim being the only one of the gang
+that it was easy to talk about sermons with, except maybe Poetry.
+
+Little Jim socked at a brown mullein stalk with his stick, and
+scattered brown seeds in different directions, then he answered me
+with his back still turned, "Oh, about when you get Jesus in your
+heart, you don't get mad so easy, and when you do, you behave yourself
+anyway--just like a fire in a house melts the snow off the roof, or
+like when spring comes, the new leaves will push all of the old dead
+leaves off that've hung on all winter."
+
+Just that second Poetry who had the other end of the ladder, yelled
+back to me and said, "Quit walking so jerkily, Bill Collins!"
+
+Then I remembered that our teacher had been in church that morning,
+and of course he had heard the part of the sermon I hadn't heard, on
+account of I had been thinking about Poetry's pet lamb and Snow-white,
+our white pigeon.
+
+Then Little Jim said, "When I put that question in 'The Minister's
+Question Box,' just inside the church door this morning, I hoped
+Sylvia's pop would answer it in his very first sermon, and he did."
+
+So that was it! It was as plain as day to me now. Dragonfly spoke up
+then and said, "Was that what you were thinking about yesterday
+afternoon, when you were looking up in the beech tree at the bottom of
+Bumblebee hill, and when you kept talking about snow on people's
+houses?" and that was the first time I even guessed that that little
+spindle-legged guy knew what we were talking about.
+
+"Sure," Little Jim said.
+
+Dragonfly tossed his new horseshoe up in the air and caught it when it
+came down, and said, "It's a pretty horseshoe, anyway--besides, I bet
+the gang _does_ have a lucky year, don't you?"
+
+Little Jim whispered to me something that was a real secret, and it
+made me like him awful well, to know he wasn't afraid to talk to me
+about it, and it was, "Do you suppose Mr. Black _really_ became a
+Christian this morning while Sylvia's pop was preaching--or maybe he
+is just _going_ to let Jesus into his heart, real soon?"
+
+"I don't know," I said.
+
+Poetry who didn't know what we were all talking about, on account of
+he was up at the other end of the kinda longish ladder, said back to
+us, "We shouldn't have carried this ladder home. We should have made
+Shorty Long and Bob Till do it. They took it there, in the first
+place!"
+
+And Little Jim piped up and said, "Are you _sure_? Maybe Mr. Black did
+it, so he could get a picture of it for next Wednesday night."
+
+Dragonfly heard that and said, "But who piled the chairs up on his
+desk and knocked the Christmas tree over and everything?"
+
+"Yeah, that's right," Little Jim said, "I guess maybe they did do it,
+but I'm not very mad at 'em."
+
+"I'm not either," I said, "not _very_ much, anyway," and I
+wasn't,--only I knew that as long as they lived in the neighborhood we
+could expect most anything to happen.
+
+Then Little Jim said to all of us. "As soon as the new cold wave is
+over, I'll bet it'll start to get warm, and pretty soon spring'll be
+here, and all the beech switches all along Sugar Creek will have new
+green leaves on 'em."
+
+Then Little Jim whisked on ahead of us, every now and then stopping to
+make rabbit tracks in the snow with his pretty striped ash stick.
+
+Boy oh boy, I wished it was already spring, 'cause when spring came we
+could all go barefoot again and as soon as Sugar Creek's face was
+thawed out, we'd go swimming in the old swimming hole and maybe have
+some very exciting brand new adventures, like we always do every
+spring and summer. The first thing I wanted to do when spring came,
+was to go fishing.
+
+I was thinking what fun it'd be when spring came, when all of a sudden,
+I heard a roaring sound coming from the direction of Dragonfly's pop's
+woods, like a terrible wind was beginning to blow through the bare
+trees. I looked up quick, and noticed that the sky in that direction
+was darkish looking and kinda brownish, like there was a lot of dust
+blowing in from some far-away prairie. Then I felt a gust of cold wind
+hit me hard in the face.
+
+In almost a half a jiffy all of us were in a whirling snowstorm, and I
+knew the new cold wave had already come, and that before spring got to
+Sugar Creek we'd have a lot more winter--in fact there might even be a
+blizzard.
+
+"Hurry up!" all of us yelled to all of us. "We've got to get home
+quick."
+
+But that's the beginning of another Sugar Creek Gang story, which I
+hope I'll get a chance to write for you real soon.
+
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+  +------------------------------------------------------------------+
+  |                                                                  |
+  | Transcriber's Note:                                              |
+  |                                                                  |
+  | Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.    |
+  | copyright on this publication was renewed.                       |
+  |                                                                  |
+  | Ellipses in this text have been standardized.                    |
+  |                                                                  |
+  | Punctuation in the verse, the use of upper or lower case for     |
+  | "mom" and "pop", and occurrences of inconsistent hyphenation     |
+  | and/or compound words where there existed no clear regular form  |
+  | (e.g., "snow ball" and "snowball", "living-room" and "living     |
+  | room") have been retained to match the original text.            |                   |
+  |                                                                  |
+  | Typographical errors and inconsistencies that have been changed  |
+  | are listed below:                                                |
+  |                                                                  |
+  | Page 16: Changed comma to period (which said, _The Hoosier       |
+  | Schoolmaster_.)                                                  |
+  |                                                                  |
+  | Page 19: Changed "dilipidated" to "dilapidated" (their           |
+  | dilapidated old unpainted house).                                |
+  |                                                                  |
+  | Page 20: Changed "heart" to "hear" (I couldn't hear a word).     |
+  |                                                                  |
+  | Page 22: Changed "his" to "him" (I heard him mention my name).   |
+  |                                                                  |
+  | Page 26: Changed "Bumblee" to "Bumblebee" (at the bottom of      |
+  | Bumblebee hill).                                                 |
+  |                                                                  |
+  | Page 28: Changed "So-ond-So" to "So-and-So" (Why yes, Mrs.       |
+  | So-and-So).                                                      |
+  |                                                                  |
+  | Page 40: Moved punctuation inside quote marks to match style of  |
+  | text (accusing me of doing, which is "dreaming.").               |
+  |                                                                  |
+  | Page 41: Changed "we" to "me" (to make me wait for my supper).   |
+  |                                                                  |
+  | Page 42: Removed duplicate word "and" (plant good seed in it,    |
+  | and cultivate).                                                  |
+  |                                                                  |
+  | Page 49: Changed "old Hook-nose" to "Old Hook-nosed" (such a     |
+  | mean husband as Old Hook-nosed John Till).                       |
+  |                                                                  |
+  | Page 51: Changed "bashful like" to "bashful-like" (into the box, |
+  | kinda bashful-like).                                             |
+  |                                                                  |
+  | Page 52: Changed "you" to "your" (and confess your sins).        |
+  |                                                                  |
+  | Page 56: Changed "ears" to "tears" (you can see the tears fly).  |
+  |                                                                  |
+  | Page 61: Changed "Spindle-legged" to "spindle-legged" (little    |
+  | spindle-legged Dragonfly).                                       |
+  |                                                                  |
+  | Page 65: Added missing end punctuation (He's looking this way!). |
+  |                                                                  |
+  | Page 68: Changed "day" to "way" (have been on my way down).      |
+  |                                                                  |
+  | Page 70: Changed "school house" to "schoolhouse" (on our side of |
+  | the schoolhouse).                                                |
+  |                                                                  |
+  | Page 75: Added alignment spaces to poem for consistency.         |
+  |                                                                  |
+  | Page 77: Changed "freckled-face" to "freckled face" (and my      |
+  | freckled face and my rumpled red hair).                          |
+  |                                                                  |
+  | Page 81: Changed comma to period (he was getting really angry.)  |
+  |                                                                  |
+  +------------------------------------------------------------------+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Shenanigans at Sugar Creek, by Paul Hutchens
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SHENANIGANS AT SUGAR CREEK ***
+
+***** This file should be named 27426.txt or 27426.zip *****
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
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author	Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>	2025-10-15 02:34:54 -0700
committer	Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>	2025-10-15 02:34:54 -0700
commit	f82b1d4cf3410d7663c19a97c147f441aa1fc63c (patch)
tree	cbbcecc25309c5d1577d3b86d7b8c2ac6d498a35