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Miss Wilder pounced on that gladly. “You may do just that! You needn’t take your book, just rock that seat.”
Laura hurried down the aisle. She whispered to Carrie, “Sit still and rest.” She braced her feet solidly on the floor; and she rocked.
Not for nothing had Pa always said that she was as strong as a little French horse.
“THUMP!” went the back legs on the floor.
“THUMP!” the front legs came down. All the bolts came quite loose, and “THUMP, THUMP! THUMP, THUMP!” the seat went in rhythm, while gladly Laura rocked and Carrie sat resting.
Not even the swinging weight eased Laura’s fury. She grew angrier and angrier, while louder and faster she rocked.
“THUMP, THUMP! THUMP, THUMP!”
No one could study now.
“THUMP, THUMP! THUMP, THUMP!”
Miss Wilder could hardly hear her own voice. Loudly she called the Third Reader class.
“THUMP, THUMP! THUMP, THUMP!”
No one could recite, no one could even be heard.
“THUMP, THUMP! THUMP, THUMP! THUMP—”
Loudly Miss Wilder said, “Laura, you and Carrie are excused from school. You may go home for the rest of the day.”
“THUMP!” Laura made the seat say. Then there was dead silence.
Everyone had heard of being sent home from school. No one there had seen it done before. It was a punishment worse than whipping with a whip. Only one punishment was more dreadful; that was to be expelled from school.
Laura held her head up, but she could hardly see. She gathered Carrie’s books together. Carrie followed shrinking behind her and waited trembling by the door while Laura took her own books. There was not a sound in the room. From sympathy, Mary Power and Minnie did not look at Laura. Nellie Oleson, too, was intent on a book, but the sly smile quivered at the corner of her mouth. Ida gave Laura one stricken glance of sympathy.
Carrie had opened the door, Laura walked out, and shut it behind them.
In the entry, they put on their wraps. Outside the schoolhouse everything seemed strange and empty because no one else was there, no one was on the road to town. The time was about two o’clock, when they were not expected at home.
“Oh, Laura, what will we do?” Carrie asked forlornly.
“We’ll go home, of course,” Laura replied. They were going home; already the schoolhouse was some distance behind them.
“What will Pa and Ma say?” Carrie quavered.
“We’ll know when they say it,” said Laura. “They won’t blame you, this isn’t your fault. It’s my fault because I rocked that seat so hard. I’m glad of it!” she added. “I’d do it again!”
Carrie did not care whose fault it was. There is no comfort anywhere for anyone who dreads to go home.
“Oh, Laura!” Carrie said. Her mittened hand slid into Laura’s, and hand in hand they went on, not saying anything more. They crossed Main Street and walked up to the door. Laura opened it. They went in.
Pa turned from his desk where he was writing. Ma rose up from her chair and her ball of yarn rolled across the floor. Kitty pounced on it gaily.
“What in the world?” Ma exclaimed. “Girls, what is the matter? Is Carrie sick?”
“We were sent home from school,” Laura said.
Ma sat down. She looked helplessly at Pa. After a dreadful stillness, Pa asked, “Why?” and his voice was stern.
“It was my fault, Pa,” Carrie quickly answered. “I didn’t mean to, but it was. Mamie and I began it.”
