stroke of wit came one morning when he caught Jack
Dudley milking the cow. In the village of Greenbank, milking a cow was
regarded as a woman's work; and foolish men and boys are like
savages,--very much ashamed to be found doing a woman's work. Fools
always think something else more disgraceful than idleness. So, having
seen Jack milking, Riley came to school happy. He had an arrow to shoot
that would give great delight to the small boys.

"Good-morning, milkmaid!" he said to Jack Dudley, as he entered the
school-house before school. "You milk the cow at your house, do you?
Where's your apron?"

"Oh-h! Milkmaid! milkmaid! That's a good one," chimed in Pewee Rose and
all his set.

Jack changed color.

"Well, what if I do milk my mother's cow? I don't milk anybody's cow but
ours, do I? Do you think I'm ashamed of it? I'd be ashamed not to. I
can"--but he stopped a minute and blushed--"I can wash dishes, and make
good pancakes, too. Now if you want to make fun, why, make fun. I don't
care." But he did care, else why should his voice choke in that way?

"Oh, girl-boy; a pretty girl-boy you are--" but here Will Riley stopped
and stammered. There right in front of him was the smiling face of Susan
Lanham, with a look in it which made him suddenly remember something.
Susan had heard all the conversation, and now she came around in front
of Will, while all the other girls clustered about her with a vague
expectation of sport.

"Come, Pewee, let's play ball," said Will.

"Ah, you're running away, now; you're afraid of a girl," said Susan,
with a cutting little laugh, and a toss of her black curls over her
shoulder.

Will had already started for the ball-ground, but at this taunt he
turned back, thrust his hands into his pockets, put on a swagger, and
stammered: "No, I'm not afraid of a girl, either."

"That's about all that he isn't afraid of," said Bob Holliday.

"Oh! you're not afraid of a girl?" said Susan. "What did you run away
for, when you saw me? You know that Pewee won't fight a girl. You're
afraid of anybody that Pewee can't whip."

"You've got an awful tongue, Susan. We'll call you Sassy Susan," said
Will, laughing at his own joke.

"Oh, it isn't my tongue you're afraid of now. You know I can tell on
you. I saw you drive your cow into the stable last week. You were
ashamed to milk outside, but you looked all around----"

"I didn't do it. How could you see? It was dark," and Will giggled
foolishly, s