He had attended school because he was
compelled to, but he had paid but little attention to his books.
The note had kept him busy for fully a half hour, and he considered
it a fine specimen of letter writing when it was completed.
He thought that few boys could have done better, and he felt that in
writing it, he had literally "covered himself with glory."
CHAPTER VII
AUNT JUDITH'S PARTY
The flowered chintz draperies hung at the windows, the pink roses, and
green leaves on its shiny surface looked fairly gaudy. The candles
danced and flickered in the candelabra, evergreen framed every picture
on the walls.
Aunt Judith's quaint sofa and chairs had always been covered with
crimson repp, and the color seemed brighter in the evening light.
The old hand-made rugs looked quaint upon the floor, and the logs in
the grate burned gaily, as if anticipating the arrival of the little
guests.
Of all the fine, quaint things in the room, Aunt Judith was surely the
finest, and the quaintest. Her gown was of old-time print, a white
ground upon which bouquets of pansies, purple and yellow, had been
finely printed.
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