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 over to her, grabbed Prattie, dragged him away, and put him into line with the other soldiers. Lucy looked indignant, and forgot to wipe her eyes. Art glanced at her triumphantly, and Miss Eldridge cried, "Do that on the night of the play, Arthur! That's fine—only don't glare at Lucy."

This inspiration rather restored Art's spirits. He had got square with Lucy Parker, anyhow! He and Peanut dressed as quickly as they could, and left the school building, walking home up the village street, where sleigh-bells were jingling. Art grew glum again.

"Hang the old rehearsals!" said he. "It's too late to go skating."

"I like 'em," Peanut replied. "It's lots o' fun."

"You're an actor, I guess," said Art. "Gee, you come puffing in just as if you were really out of breath!"

"I am," said Peanut. "I get to thinking about galloping up on the horse so hard while I'm drumming that I really get excited. Why, how can you help it?"

"Guess you can't," Art answered. "But I can. I'm not built that way. Play acting doesn't seem real to me, it seems sort of—sort of girls' stuff."

"Thank you," said Peanut.

"Oh, I don't mean you, of course," Art laughed. "But dancing, and all that—golly, I feel as if I was