"There was a sound of revelry by nightAnd Belgium's capital . . . . "

I forget the rest of it. Well, anyhow, they were supposed to makegestures all together. Teacher had rehearsed the gestures, and theyall did it simultaneously, just as if they had been wound up with aspring. But, as I said, the two end girls had all they could do tokeep on the platform, and it takes elbow chamber for: "'T is but the carrattling over the stony street," and one girl - well, she said shestepped off on purpose, but I didn't believe her then and I don'tnow. We had our laugh about it, whichever way it was.

We had our chuckle . . . . Ah, life was all laughter then. That wasbefore care came to be the shadow at our heel. That was beforepurple Sorrow met us in the way, and would not let us pass unlesswe gave to her our dearest treasure. That was before we learnedthat what we covet most is, when we get it, but a poor skinnyg afterall, that whatsoever chalice Fortune presses to our lips, a tear isin the bottom of the cup. In those happy days gone by if the rainfell, 't was only for a little while, and presently the sky wasbright again, and the birds whistled merrily among the wet andshining leaves. Now "the clouds return after the rain."

It can never be with us again as once it was. For us the bell uponthe 0ld Red School-house calls in vain. We heed it not, we thathearkened for it months ago. The living tide of youth flows towardthe school-house, and we are not of it. Never again shall we sitat those very aged desks, whittled and carved with rude initials, and snapour fingers, eager to tell the answer. Never again shall weexperience the thrill of pride when teacher praised us openly.Never again shall we sit trembling while the principal, reads thenote, and then scowls at us fiercely with: "Take off your coat,sir!" Ah, me! Never again, never again.