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"Gwen! Gwen Gascoyne! Gwen! Anybody seen her? I say, have you all gone deaf? Don't you hearme? Where's Gwen? I-want-Gwen-Gascoyne!"The speaker-Ida Bridge-a small, perky, spindle-legged Junior, jumped on to the nearest seat, andraising her shrill voice to its topmost pitch, twice shouted the "Gwen Gascoyne", with an aggressiveenergy calculated to make herself heard above the babel of general chatter that pervaded theschoolroom. Her effort, though far from musical, at any rate secured her the notice she desired."Hello, there! Stop that noise! It's like a dog howling!" irately commanded a girl in spectacles whowas cleaning the blackboard."And get down from my desk this minute! Who said you might climb up there?""Look here, you kid, what are you doing in our classroom?""Take yourself off at once! Fly! Scoot!"The "kid", however, stood her ground."Shan't move till you've answered my question," she replied with aggravating impudence. "I wantGwen Gascoyne.""Why, there she is all the time!""Where?""Under your very nose, you stupid baby! Get down from my desk, I tell you!"The Junior cast what was intended to be a withering glance before she descended."Gwen Gascoyne, why couldn't you answer when I called you?" she demanded abruptly.Gwen paused in the act of sharpening a lead pencil, and eyed the intruder."Who asked you to come in here?" she retorted."You babes must keep to your own classrooms! Hey, presto! Vanish! And be quick about it!"interposed Myra Johnson.
