, laying my hand on the
schoolmaster's. I spoke in as quiet a voice as I could assume, but
very seriously. My words and manner threw Mr. Jonas off of his guard.
His hold on the boy relaxed, and in the next instant Neddy was beyond
his reach and running off as fast as his feet could carry him.

"After him!" cried the schoolmaster, greatly excited. "After him, John
Wilkins!"

A large, coarse-looking boy started forward, and was about passing
through the door, when I put my hand on him, and pressing him back
said,

"Wait a moment, John. Maybe, after I've said a word to Mr. Jonas,
he'll not want you to go. Tell him to wait, Mr. Jonas; do, now,
because I want you."

I softened my voice to a persuasive tone, and so made my interference
effectual. The schoolmaster told John Wilkins to go back to his seat.

Mrs. Oram had started after her troublesome grandson on the instant of
his escape, and so I was left alone with the excited teacher.

"Now, don't be angry with me," said I, "nor tell me to go away and
mind my own business. Two heads are sometimes better than one; and
it's my opinion that if you and I put our heads together, we can save
this poor boy from being ruined. There is a great deal of good in
him, but as things go now I'm afraid it will be lost. With natures
like his, 'love has readier will than fear.' His grandmother doesn't
know how to manage him. Let us try to show her a better way."

[Illustration: THE TRUANT.]

By the time I had said this the thoughts of Mr. Jonas had become
clearer and his anger against Neddy much abated. I saw this in his
face.

"Let the boy go now," I added. "After school come and see me, and
we'll have a long talk over the matter. But promise me one thing."

"What is that?" he asked.

"If old Mrs. Oram brings Neddy back to-day, don't punish him."

"Very well. It shall be as you say," answered the schoolmaster.

That evening Mr. Jonas called to see me. He was a better man, on the
whole, than he was a schoolmaster. Out of school he was kind and
genial, but as a teacher he was not always as wise and as patient as
he should be. Like Neddy's grandmother, he believed more in the power
of force than he did in the power of kindness. His rod was always in
sight, and too often in his hand. He ruled by fear, and not by love.

"Did Neddy come back to school?" I asked.

Mr. Jonas shook his head gravely.

"Oh, mother," cried my little girl, rushing into the room just at this
moment, "