The plaster casts comprised images of saints, elephants, giraffes,
cherubs with little wings tinted in pink and yellow, a tall Madonna and
Child, a bust of George Washington, a Napoleon, a grinning Voltaire, an
angel with a pink trumpet and an evil-looking Tom Paine.
I suppose the loads were not as heavy as they looked, but the boys were
having a hard time of it, to judge from their distressed faces peering
anxiously from underneath the rafts which, at each step, rocked to and
fro and seemed always on the point of toppling. Frantic clutches of
small brown hands and the quick shifting of feet alone saved a smash-up.
The master was still in the schoolhouse with some of the older boys and
girls; but the younger ones had rushed out when the bell rang.
"Hi, where are you going?" several shouted. "What you got on your
heads?"
The little strangers turned their faces and, nodding violently, tried to
smile ingratiatingly. Some one let fly a snowball, and in a moment the
mob of boys, shouting and laughing noisily, chased after them. No harm
was intended; it was merely excess of spirits at getting out from
school. But the result was disastrous.
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