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in her blue eyes.

    “Sorry about what?” Sammy taunted her.

        “About this!” Dotty shouted, as she hauled off and punched Sammy right on the nose so hard it began to bleed.

        All the girls began insulting Sammy, because they had never seen a girl fight a boy.

        Marie Vinson shouted, “Sammy got a bloody nose from a girl!”

        As if by signal, all the girls began to shout, “Sammy got whipped by a girl! Sammy got whipped by a girl!”

        Sammy wiped the blood from his nose with his handkerchief. He looked angry enough to explode. “If you wasn’t a girl, I’d beat the tar out of you,” he said through gritted teeth.

    “I ain’t afraid to fight you,” Dotty said.

        That was all Sammy needed. He doubled up his fists and began throwing punches at Dotty, who fought just like a boy and punched him right back.

        The kids began to scream and shout. This brought Mr. Standish out of the schoolhouse. Tom ran to meet the teacher with me following.

        “Please let them fight,” Tom pleaded. “If Dotty whips Sammy, all the other kids will leave her alone.”

        Mr. Standish thought about it for a moment and then went back into the schoolhouse.

        By the time Tom and I got back to the fight, Sammy and Dotty were in a clinch. I watched bug-eyed as Dotty wrestled Sammy to the ground and pinned him with her knees on his arms. She pasted him good a few times on the face. Then she scooped up a handful of dirt.

    “Had ‘ nuff ?” she asked.

    Poor old Sammy knew he was beat. “I give up,” he said.

        “Then eat dirt,” Dotty shouted, as she pushed the handful of dirt into Sammy’s mouth.

        It was one of the worst humiliations a fellow could suffer. Sammy began to gag and spit dirt and blood from his mouth as Dotty got up. And boy, did she have a wild look as she stared at the kids.

        “The next one who makes fun of me, I’ll fight and make eat dirt—boy or girl,” she threatened.

        All the kids backed away from Dotty with scared looks. Just then Mr. Standish rang the bell ending recess.

        Dotty’s first day in school must have been enough to make Mr. Standish wish he’d never become a teacher. He tried several times to get Dotty learning her ABC’s, but she just sat with her arms folded and wouldn’t say a word.

        “Wouldn’t you like to learn to read and write like the other pupils?” he asked.

        “Nope,” Dotty answered, speaking for the first time that afternoon.

        “Wouldn’t you like to learn something about the history of our great country?” Mr. Standish asked.

    “Nope,” Dotty said.

        “Wouldn’t you like to learn how to add and subtract and multiply figures?” Mr. Standish asked.

        “Nope,” Dotty said. “My pa told me I gotta come here ‘cause it’s the law, but he didn’t say I gotta learn anything.”

        Mr. Standish threw up his hands. “Is there anything you do like?” he asked.

    “Horses,” Dotty said. “I like horses.”

     
        That evening after supper Tom and I did our homework on the dining-room table and then went into the parlor to play a game or two of dominoes before going to bed.

        Papa laid aside his book. “How did Dotty Blake’s first day in school go?” he asked.

        Mamma dropped her embroidery work in her lap. “It was a disaster,” she said. “A complete disaster.”

        Tom and I had told Mamma all about it when we had come home from school. Tom repeated the story for Papa.

        “That girl is going to get an education some way,” Mamma said with a determined look on her face.

        Tom looked at Mamma with surprise. “You can’t make anybody do something they don’t want to do,” he said. “Mr. Standish tried real hard, but it didn’t do any good.”

        Mamma stared hard at Tom as if she’d never seen him before, and then to my astonishment, she smiled. “Maybe I