"You must have something to do," cried Cheppi, in
an irritated tone. "You are not the smartest scholar in the school."
The girl did not know what to answer. She had not been to school that
day, and did not know what lessons were given out; and, besides, was
quite out of her usual habits and life generally. "If I must do my
examples, so must you, or I won't do them at all," cried Cheppi again.
Wiseli kept as still as a mouse. "Well, then, it is all right," said
the boy noisily. "I won't do another stroke of work." And he threw away
his pencil.
"Then I won't do any thing, either," cried Hannes, and stuffed his
multiplication-table into his satchel again; for learning his lessons
was the hardest thing in the world for him.
"I will tell the master whose fault it is," began Cheppi again. "You can
see, then, what you will get."
Probably Cheppi would have gone on in this unpleasant style for a long
time, if his father had not soon returned from the barn. He brought in
two big, empty grain-bags on his shoulders, and came up to the table
with them.
"Make room," he said to Cheppi, who sat with his elbows on the table,
supporting his head on his hands. Then he spread out his two bags,
folded them together again, and then again. At last he went towards the
bench behind the stove, and put them down on it. "There," he said, with
an air of satisfaction, "that is good.
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