French Johnny pokes his head in first, almost like a little kid asking permission. Miss Lesley has her ruler raised and suddenly she stops moving too. I sneak a peek at Arthur, who's put the book down. The man coming through that door understands that Miss Lesley don't like dirt in her classroom. It's Arthur who’s reading when we hear footsteps outside on the wooden porch, the thunk of a boot against the step to knock off the mud. Thomas mumbles so you can't understand him and Norma just pretends to read and Rose is too busy twirling her hair around her finger and staring at Thomas. I like to hear my voice doing the reading. 'You older children go on reading among yourselves now. Seems she cares more about sitting still than learning. Miss Lesley slaps them with her ruler whenever she passes by.

I'm back at my desk, but my feet are dancing underneath. The whole time she's teaching, Miss Lesley moves around the room, keeping us kids in order. Some of you children could have had grandparents who fought in that war.' If there are soldiers, there's gonna be a war.' ' 'Cause there are soldiers in the story. What do you think that means? Class?'Īrthur's hand goes up. he was about to mingle in one of those great affairs of the earth.' ' I go on.' 'He could not accept with asshur-' ' I can read just as good as him so long as I can move around at the same time.

Arthur's twelve too, but he's four months older than me. It's 'cause he's a sitter and the rest of us are hoppers, jumpers, fidgeters. It's not only 'cause he's the best reader. That's why Miss Lesley likes him the best. Now you try it.'Īrthur's desk is hooked up to mine and he never moves a muscle 'cepting his lips when he's reading. I want you to stay in one place when you read. Your brain works just like everybody else's. At least she don't smack him with that ruler of hers. Miss Lesley touches his head with her hand and he stops. In the front row, my little brother, Henry, giggles. 'The writer should call him Joe or Henry or something.' She's always trying to fix our grammar, but we don't pay much mind. 'Why doesn't the youth have a name,' Miss Lesley says, but I go right on. So they were at last going to fight.' Miss Lesley, why don't the youth have a name?' ''The youth was in a little trance of astonishment. I stand up to read, but as soon as I open my mouth, my feet start moving. The book is called The Red Badge of Courage.

Counting on grace by elizabeth winthrop