* * * * * * * *
Weeks had passed since the little pupils had commenced to strive to
win the prize. Now there was great excitement. At the end of the
afternoon session the name of the winner was to be announced, and in
the evening the Holiday party at Sherwood Hall was to be enjoyed.
Of all the boys and girls at school, Sprite Seaford was surely the
most restless.
At one time her cheeks would be hot, and soon after the color would
leave them.
She had worked very, _very_ hard to win the prize.
Oh, whose was it to be?
She clasped, and unclasped her nervous hands.
And when at last the teacher went to the board just back of her desk
and wrote:
"Sprite Seaford, Prize winner," Sprite leaned back in her seat, pale,
and almost breathless. For a moment not a sound broke the silence.
Sprite stared at the written words as if half stunned with surprise.
"Three cheers for Sprite Seaford!" shouted Rob Lindsey, forgetting
that he was in school, and the teacher laughed outright.
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