Hurriedly he wrote "Dear freind" at the top of the page Margaret
had partially filled. Then he signed himself "Yours respectfuly,
Penrod Schofield" at the bottom, and enclosed the missive within
a battered volume entitled, "Principles of English Composition."
With that and other books compacted by a strap, he descended to a
breakfast somewhat oppressive but undarkened by any misgivings
concerning a "letter to a friend on some subject of general
interest." He felt that a difficulty had been encountered and
satisfactorily disposed of; the matter could now be dismissed
from his mind. He had plenty of other difficulties to take its
place.
No; he had no misgivings, nor was he assailed by anything
unpleasant in that line, even when the hour struck for the class
in English composition. If he had been two or three years older,
experience might have warned him to take at least the precaution
of copying his offering, so that it would appear in his own
handwriting when he "handed it in"; but Penrod had not even
glanced at it.
"I think," Miss Spence said, "I will ask several of you to read
your letters aloud before you hand them in.
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