had to go through, last night, would think they had an excuse."
Miss Spence resumed her seat, though with the air of being ready to leap from it instantly.
"What has last night to do with your insolence to me this morning?"
"Well, I guess you'd see," he returned, emphasizing the plaintive note, "if you knew what I know."
"Now, Penrod," she said, in a kinder voice, "I have a high regard for your mother and father, and it would hurt me to distress them, but you must either tell me what was the matter with you or I'll have to take you to Mrs. Houston."
"Well, ain't I going to?" he cried, spurred by the dread name. "It's because I didn't sleep last night."
"Were you ill?" The question was put with some dryness.
He felt the dryness. "No'm; I wasn't."
"Then if some one in your family was so ill that even you were kept up all night, how does it happen they let you come to school this morning?"
"It wasn't illness," he returned, shaking his head mournfully. "It was lots worse'n anybody's being sick. It was—it was—well, it was jest awful."
