"
"Oh!" said Ken. After a moment of thought he exclaimed, somewhat
indignant: "You mean to say, then, that you have to reverse the
positions of all these blooming dots, besides writing 'em backward?"
"Yes."
"You have to read 'em one way, and write 'em another, and remember 'em
_both_?"
"You do."
"And--and Kirk does that?"
"Yes; and he knows Revised, Grade One and a Half, too, and our alphabet
besides, and embossed music, a little, and arithmetic, and--"
"Don't," said Ken. "It makes a fellow feel cheap."
With which he removed the paper and clamped in a fresh sheet. The work
progressed silently; Ken occasionally gnashed his teeth and tore away
the paper, but after a time the mistakes grew fewer, and Felicia,
looking across at her brother's brown, handsome face, found it tranquil
and sober, an earnest absorption in his gray eyes and a gently whimsical
smile about his mouth. She knew of whom he was thinking, and smiled
tenderly herself as she watched his big hand plod systematically and
doggedly across the unfamiliar way. Bedtime found Ken elated and
exhibiting to his sister several neatly embossed sheets of paper.
"'All day my--'" read Felicia.
"Murder!" cried Ken. "I forgot you could read the stuff! Go to bed, go
to bed!"
At a rather early hour the next morning, Felicia was awakened by the
stealthy approach to her bedside of a small and cautious figure in
pajamas. It stood quite still beside the bed, listening to find out
whether or not she was asleep.
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