He had a cent in his pocket for the Sunday School collection, and a five-cent piece for the church collection; he carried his Bible in one hand and his Sunday School quarterly in the other; he knew his lesson and his Golden Text and his catechism question perfectly.

Had he not studied them--perforce--in Mrs.Lynde's kitchen, all last Sunday afternoon?
Davy, therefore, should have been in a placid frame of mind.

As a matter of fact, despite text and catechism, he was inwardly as a ravening wolf.
Mrs.Lynde limped out of her kitchen as he joined Dora.
"Are you clean ?" she demanded severely.
"Yes--all of me that shows," Davy answered with a defiant scowl.
Mrs.Rachel sighed.

She had her suspicions about Davy's neck and ears.
But she knew that if she attempted to make a personal examination Davy would likely take to his heels and she could not pursue him today.
"Well, be sure you behave yourselves," she warned them.

"Don't walk in the dust.