10 GRAY LADY AND THE BIRDS 
Tommy Todd was what is usually called the “bad 
boy” of the school. He was thirteen, keen-witted and 
restless. He learned his lessons quickly, and then when 
Miss Wilde was hearing the little ones drone out their 
“twice one is two,” “twice two is four,” he often sat idle 
in his seat devising mischief that he sometimes put in 
motion before school was over. 
Then there were some days when it seemed as if Tommy 
would leave his desk and fly out of the window in spite of 
himself. Poor Miss Wilde had been obliged to make 
him change desks twice already. From his first place he 
could look at a pasture, where a family of woodchucks 
had their burrows, and he had caused several stampedes, 
not only among the boys, but girls also, by calling out: 
“fi! there goes a buster! I bet its hide’s worth more’n 
a quarter! Now Jones’ yaller dog is after him! Hi! 
there! good work! he’s headin’ of it off! Gee, Hog’s 
reared and give him a bite! There they go round the 
hill! If the hole back t’other side I stuffed Saturday’s 
got loosed out, I bet on the hog!’’ (Ground-hog being 
the familiar name for the woodchuck in this region.) 
Order being restored, Tommy was moved to the east 
side of the room. Here the view was downhill over the 
lowlands, ending at a great corn-field that belonged to 
Tommy’s grandfather. The corn was yellow in the ear, 
but still standing. A flock of crows that had a roost in 
the swampy millwoods knew all about this corn-field and 
considered it as their own property, for had they not su- 
perintended its planting, helped thin out the seed lest it 
should grow too thick, and croaked and quavered directions 
to old man Todd and his horses every time they ploughed 
