What could he do?
He had never written a composition in his life, having made it a point to run away from school on composition-day; but running away was done with now.

It didn't seem possible that he could write anything: certainly not in such a new, queer way as Mr.Burrows wished them to.
Supper and wood-splitting were hurried over for that evening, and Tip took his way very early to the seat under the elm-tree down by the pond.
He wanted to think, to see how he should meet this new trouble; it was a real trouble to him, for he had set out to do just right, and he saw no way of getting out of this duty, and thought he saw no way of doing it.
"There is no place on the road so dark but this lamp will light you through, if you give it a chance." This is what Mr.Holbrook had said when he gave Tip his Bible.

And Tip had thought of his words very often, had already proved them true more than once; but he didn't see how it could help him now.
He took it out, and slowly turned the leaves; it couldn't write his composition for him, that was certain.

But oh, the bright thought that came to Tip just then! Why not find his acrostic in the Bible, and write it out?
among so many, _many_ verses, he would be sure to find what he wanted.

But then, how very queer it would be for _him_, Tip Lewis, to copy anything from the Bible! What would the boys think?
What would Bob Turner say?
Still, what else could he do?
Besides his spelling-book and a worn arithmetic, it was the only book that he had in the world.
"I don't care," he said suddenly, after a few moments of troubled thought.