Now, as he sat at his desk, book in hand, he thought of his long tramps
over field and meadow, through forest and valley, and in his heart he
hated school, and the people who forced him to attend.
"What's the use?" he muttered, under his breath.
"I can catch woodchucks, and birds and squirrels," he said, softly,
"and _once_ I caught a fox, but what kin I do here? Nothing but hold
a ol' book!" A sharp command to "stop muttering, and sit still," served
to increase his wrath.
He knew that it was not the teacher who was responsible for his presence
at school, but he thought that she _wished_ him to be there, because
she insisted that he sit still, and she would not let him leave the
room.
"It was the p'liceman what _brung_ me here, but I'll bet 'twas her
_axed_ him to," he whispered, thus showing how angry were his thoughts,
and how greatly he needed the training that the teacher stood ready
to give.
His mother had not dared to keep him at home, although she needed his
help.
Gyp could not understand why she had agreed to let him go to a place
where he could neither _earn_ nor _steal_ food for the family.
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