john woolcot (bunty) is a big, awkward, selfish lad of thirteen. he is of a cowardly nature, and, on account of his meanness and his want of truthfulness, is at war with the world around him. even at home, no one shows any sympathy for him and his troubles except his little sister winifred (poppet).
one day at school, when alone, he was tossing up a ball, and it went through a window. he crept into the room and got it, without, as he thought, being seen. the next day, when inquiries were made, he denied having broken the window; but a boy named hawkins, who disliked him very much, had seen him coming out of the room with a ball in his hand, and informed on him. to make the matter worse, five sovereigns, which had been left on the table in the room, when the headmaster had been called away just before the accident, could not be found. of course, every one supposed that woolcot had taken them (several months afterwards it wasproved that he had not done so), and he was expelled from the school.
knowing that nothing he might say would be believed by his father, and that he would be severely punished by him, he ran away from home, telling poppet, however, that, though he had been a coward and had told a lie about the broken window, he bad not stolen the money. the faithful little soul believed him; and in what follows we have an account of her brave attempt to clear his character in the eyes of his teacher.]
it was in the midst of morning lessons at the grammar school that an odd thing happened.
the day was very hot; not a breath of wind came in at the open doors and windows-nothing but the blazing sunlight that lay in hot patches on the floor, and slowly baked blackboards, and slates, and desks. the room was a long one; half a dozen classes were at work in it, under as many masters; and, at the end, on a raised platform, sat the headmaster (mr. burnham) at his desk. he was looking through exercise books, and his brow kept criss- crossing1 with lines of annoyance at the mistakes he met with and at the noise in the room. he scored a red line through an error in one of the exercises, and stood up, a heavy frown on his face.
at the same moment, a very small shadow fell just inside the entrance door at the far end of the room, and a timid knock sounded there. nobody said "come in," though a hundred and fifty pairs of eyes went in the direction with the swiftness natural to gratitude2 for any break in the lesson. then there1criss-crossing: wrinkling.
2swiftness natural to gratitude: quickness caused by thankfulness.
stepped over the threshold a little, slight girl-a little girl with a short, holland frock, a great sun-hat, and no gloves; a little girl with a white, small face, great frightened eyes shining strangely, and soft lips very tightly closed. up the long, long room she went, both little hands held tightly together in front of her. no one could tell from the way she walked how her poor little knees were shaking, and her poor little heart was beating.
for a minute, mr. burnham"s frown did not disappear-not till he noticed how white her face was. "what is it, little girl?" he said, and really thought that he made his voice quite gentle and encouraging, though to poppet it sounded terrible.
"there stepped over the threshold a little, slight girl. ""i-" she said-"you-." something rose in her throat; her face grew even whiter, and her lips, white too, twitched a little; but the words would not come.
he took her hand-the little, trembling, shut, brown hand-andheld it between his own.
"there is nothing to be afraid of, my child; tell me what it is you want;" he drew her closer to the desk, and sat down. he seemed less formidable1 in that position than towering above her-his eyes looked strangely kind; could it really be the terrible mr. burnham she had heard so much about? the hand he held fluttered a minute, then her lips moved again:
"bunty didn"t do it," she said in a whisper.
"eh? what?" he said, mystified.
"he didn"t do it-bunty didn"t do it-oh, indeed.""but who is bunty? and who are you, my little maid?" mr. burnham said, with a smile that lit up his thoughtful eyes.
"he"s my brother," she said, in a voice that had gained a little strength. then it struck her bunty was not so called at school. "his name"s john woolcot," she added, with down-cast eyes; "i"m poppet."then mr. burnham remembered everything, and his eyes grew stern as he thought of the boy there had been so much trouble with; but they softened as they fell again on the little, white, eager face.
"and his little sister is taking up his cudgels2; thanklesswork, i"m afraid-eh?" he said.
poppet was calm now,-the worst part of the ordeal3 was over, and she had actually gained the dread headmaster"s ear; she must make the most of her time.
1formidable: terrible; causing fear.
2taking up his cudgels: defending him; speaking in his favour. 3 ordeal: severe trial.
"won"t you believe him?" she said; "indeed he didn"t do it-oh, indeed!""what?" he asked,-"break the window-tell a lie-anything? why, my little child, he owned to it." "yes," said poppet; "he broke the glass, i know; and yes, he didtell one story." her face fell after the last sentence, and a little red crept into her cheek. "but he didn"t take the money-oh no, no!-oh, bunty wouldn"t be a thief-oh, not for anything and anything- oh, indeed!"the boys were staring at the little white- faced girl at the headmaster"s desk, though they could not hear what was being said.
"would you like to come and talk to me privately?" mr. burnham said.
an "oh-h-h !" was popper"s only answer; but the gratitude in her eyes was so intense, he guessed a little what the ordeal had been to her.
