Growth of a Man. Mazo de la Roche

clean white paper were handed in to Miss McKay. After the children were gone she pinned the maps to the walls of the room. She was proud of her pupils’ accomplishments.

      When the children crowded into the room the next morning the first thing that challenged their attention was Shaw’s brightly colored map, with its square-rigger, its dolphins and its whale, the crowding colors of its countries, the lovely blue of its sea.

      “I know when you colored that!” exclaimed Ian. Elspeth turned scarlet.

      It was Louie Adams’s map that took the prize. It was of Asia too. It was plain black and white, but Louie had spent many hours in laboriously inserting the names of a multitude of rivers, capes, and towns. The map was covered by them. There was not room for another.

      As she returned to her seat carrying the prize, a twenty-five-cent edition of A Basket of Flowers, her eyes met Shaw’s. On her side there was triumph. On his a challenge. From then on he worked harder than ever.

      But his boy’s body chafed at the long hours of sitting. On the way home from school he gave himself up to play. It seemed that he could not play violently enough. Races, leapfrog, hop-skip-and-jump; in that hour he strove to rid himself of his pent-up energy, to capture some of the joy in which Ian was so carelessly secure. Shaw laughed a great deal in his play but his eyes were always grave. When the laugh had passed his lips they resumed their line of set endurance.

      After the Easter holidays Miss McKay told him that she had great hope of his passing the entrance examination. He was himself positive he could do it but it was pleasant to have this assurance from his teacher. He relaxed a little his work at home and drew out the enjoyment of the after-school play. He and Ian and two brothers named Scott found a deserted “root house” on a neighboring farm. It was still solid, with a good roof, a small-paned window, and a broad shelf. You went down two stone steps into it. You could bolt the door. The little building was almost hidden by weeds and creepers.

      The boys discovered it on the first spring day when the warmth of the sun put a kind of madness into them. They clambered up the mossy roof and slid down shouting. “It’s a pirates’ cave!” declared Ian. “Let’s have it for a pirates’ cave!” There was a small wood between it and the cultivated land. If they were careful in their comings and goings there was little chance of their being found out.