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Olbrich, M. B. (ed.) / The Wisconsin literary magazine
Vol. 1, No. 4 (March 1904)

Smith, O. R.
Jimmie,   pp. 132-135

Page 132

   It was a close, sultry afternoon early in June. Jimmie
 Bledsoe sat in his seat in the school room, an opened reader
 lying carelessly before him. Jimmie's eyes, however, were
 not on his book, nor his thoughts centered upon the pages of
 his lesson. Instead, he gazed longingly out of a half opened
 window where, through the drooping leaves of elms and
 maples, he could catch occasional glimpses of the clear sun-
 lit waters of the "River." Long and fixedly lie looked,
 twisting restlessly in his seat; then, with a sigh, he turned
 again to his book. It was only half-past three.
   "Jim, Oh! Jim," came an eager whisper from across the
aisle, " 'Are y'u goin' ?" and a sandy headed, flat nosed young-
ster mysteriously held up two fingers.
   "Yep," responded James, "are t'other fellers?"
   "Rob and Ed are," answered he of the tow head. "Look
out, teacher's lookin'."
  Jimmie observed this warning by literally putting his head
into his book for the space of fifteen seconds. Then, as the
teacher had turned again to her arithmetic class, he slyly
reached over and unknotted the bright scarlet bow in the
braids of the little girl ahead. His victim, knowing from
experience that remonstrance was useless, did not turn
around; and Jimmie, finding his attentions so lightly re-
garded, glued his eyes upon the face of the great deliberate
clock with its black, tantalizing hands. Yet even a clock
could not, forever, balk the desires of a small boy. In spite
of itself it crept around to four.  "Mam Anderson," having
assigned the arithmetic lesson, glanced at her watch and said,
to the relief of the long enduring youngsters, "You may go
now." With a "whoop" as fairly made the shingles rattle,
Jimmie tore down the aisle and out of the building, closely
followed by his three compatriots.
                     *      *      *
  "Ma! Oh, ma! I'm goin' swimmin'; can't I?"

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