a look of grateful recognition, slid into it. John was still standing by his desk to recite and was so startled at seeing Barnaby that he made no move. But a boy called Clarence Oleson moved over and patted the place by
him,
and Barnaby took it. Susan's heart misgave her. She did not trust Clarence Oleson's expression.
"We will resume the recitation," said Grannie.
As John went on with his problem, Abbie whispered, "Where are we? What's happening?"
"It's the magic," Susan whispered back. "Grannie found the book and wished. She's the teacher, back when she was in her prime."
"Silence," said Grannie, in no uncertain tone.
After that, silence reigned until recess.
During recess, John and Susan and Barnaby and Abbie and Fredericka met in conference, and John and Susan told the others everything that had happened. And then Clarence Oleson came swaggering up and proved to be just as mean as Susan had thought he would be from his look.
"Well, you're a little sawed-off hunk of nothing, aren't you?" he said to Barnaby. "Are you called Barnaby because you were born in a barn? On
our
farm we always drown the runt of the litter!"
Barnaby's hands made fists, and he moved toward Clarence. But John got between them.
"Lay off," he said.
"I can take care of myself," Barnaby muttered angrily.
"I know you can," said John. "But right now you're not going to."
"Who asked
you?
" said Clarence. "No big galoot of a new boy is going to tell
me
what to do." And he reached past John to tweak Barnaby's ear.
At that moment Grannie appeared in the schoolhouse door. Her eagle eye rested coldly on Clarence for a moment, but she said nary a word and merely rang her hand bell. Recess was over, and the children trooped back inside.
After recess, Clarence's behavior continued at a low level. The lesson was reading preparation, and Clarence kept pushing sideways in his seat, crowding Barnaby over till he was right at the edge. Then Clarence made a sudden movement, and Barnaby sprawled crashingly into the aisle.
Grannie looked up sharply at the sudden noise. Clarence was sitting far over on his own side by now, with an innocent expression on his face.
"Silence," said Grannie.
Barnaby picked himself up and his hands made fists again, but he kept his control and started to study once more.
Next Clarence produced a pin and stuck Barnaby with it hard.
This was the last straw, and Barnaby hit him.
I have said that Barnaby was not at his best with his fists. But in this case righteous anger lent strength to the blow. And Clarence hadn't expected a sawed-off little runt to show fight and was taken by surprise.
"Teacher," he bawled, only partly in pretense, "he hit me!"
"Barnaby," said Grannie. "Come here."
Barnaby went there.
"Hold out your hand."
Barnaby held it out. Grannie produced a ruler and hit his hand three times, quite hard.
"There is to be no fighting in class," she said sternly. "Remember that."
Barnaby's face was white, but he kept his voice steady. "Yes, Teacher," he said. He couldn't very well say, "Yes, Grannie," and he had forgotten Grannie's maiden name, if he ever knew it.
Grannie regarded him, and her grim expression softened. She smiled slightly and nodded to herself as if in approval. "Good," she said. "And now..." and she produced an extremely large pin from her desk, "you may take this and stick Clarence with it."
There was a murmur of awe from the whole class.
Barnaby looked at the pin. Then he looked at Clarence with distaste. "I couldn't," he said.
"Very well," said Grannie. "Then / shall!" And she advanced down the aisle, pin in hand. With her black eyes snapping and her splendid tall handsomeness, she presented a truly terrifying picture of justice aroused and on the warpath, and Clarence fairly writhed in anticipation.
"Please, Teacher, don't!" he cried. "I'm sorry, honest, Teacher!"
Grannie (or Teacher) eyed him with contempt. "So you can't take your own medicine, eh?" she said. "In that case, hold out your