THE next morning Billy had a “temperature.” His mother against school for that day. At first he was glad. He didn’t care if he had forty temperatures. He thought almost anything in the way of fever was cooler than he would feel if the boys—and the girls—should see his face. Not that this was the first time he had been scratched in a fight; before he had not cared who knew. To-day it was different,—there were things about this fight he wished he could forget, even though he knew Jimmy was not likely to die.  
But a second idea came that made him fidget about the room, lift his bandage and watch the children on their way to school. His record for attendance for the year had so far been perfect. He knew that he owed it partly to his mother’s tireless watch of the clock, and wondered why he had not realized this before. Now it was to be broken; she would be as sorry as he could be; and it would have counted well toward the prize. He tried to calculate how many days he could be absent and still have left some chance of it. The work was all reviewing, he almost knew it, anyway. If he only had his books,—but no, they wouldn’t let him use his eyes.
 
A gentle rap halted his reflections, a sweet voice asked to come in; and in a moment there was a rose-leaf touch on his cheek.
 
“Your mamma said I was to ask no questions, and I shall obey; but I do wish I knew how I could help you.” She touched the bandage that bound his head. “Does it hurt you much, Billy? I’m so sorry. My eyes ache me, too, for looking at you.”
 
He was pleased with her sympathy; but being a boy, he didn’t like to show it. “I’ll tell you,” he said, eagerly, and without further acknowledgment of her kindness, “ask Mr. Brown to give you my books. Perhaps to-night I can see to study.”
 
But not that night nor for days after did Billy look at his books. The second morning the fever was still present, and he told his mother he was “all over red goose flesh.”
 
“Measles,” Mrs. Bennett pronounced; and though it was a light case, and in a day or so Billy felt as well as ever except his eyes, they were sentenced to a dark room.
 
May Nell plays teacher
 
May Nell had been “through the measles,” yet she shared the quarantine. Billy resented this at first. It was “no fair.” he was grateful; for aside from the cheer of her presence she did him a fine service. It was her clever brain that proposed to read his lessons aloud to him; and though he didn’t think much of it at first, he soon saw that this would make a chance for the prize which in his heart he had resigned.
 
She made a picture curled in a big chair under the window, where a lifted corner of the curtain gave light to the book, but left the rest of the room dark. It pleased her to play teacher. She asked Billy numberless questions, him to explain what she did not understand. And he soon learned that one must know a thing very well before he can tell it. He some of the written work, and she it in her little script.
 
Yet Billy despaired when he thought of the mathematics; Jimmy— With the thought of Jimmy the hot blood rose to Billy’s cheek, and he was glad the room was dark. It was Jimmy’s right arm that was broken.
 
But May Nell’s ambition was . “We can do mathematics work, too. I can multiply, and divide, and other things beside, I can do; I’ll just be your paper and pencil.”
 
Billy was , yet soon convinced, as the little girl slowly and carefully read the problems, followed his directions, and obtained correct results. A few problems were too complicated; these the boy had her mark for attack with recovered sight.
 
Yet only a part of the long day went to study. They spent hours rehearsing the stories of favorite books, and otherwise amused themselves by tales of marvellous adventure. The school children sent notes, the latest school jokes, and original pictures, interesting if sometimes not quite clear as to meaning. Clarence his first letter. Here it is:
 
The best of all was a letter from Jimmy, with his left hand.
 
“Dear Billy,” it read; “Shifty seen the fight. He says it was something fierce. He says you looked like a mad bull. He was hiding behind the fence. He says he bet on me; but he was glad he didn’t bet with nobody, because you whipped. Shifty’s doing some of my written work—I’m telling him how, of course. And I’m studying right smart. Say, Bill, I don’t lay no . My arm’s getting on fine.
 
“Yours truly,
“Jimmy.”
 
Billy read the note several times. He knew that Jimmy meant much more than the words said; it was his offer of the “olive branch.” And Billy, thinking over that afternoon, wondered again how it had been possible for him to feel such murderous hate for anything living. And for Jimmy! His mate at school, in............