While I was restlessly reading I saw something sweet. On the paper pacing was my pencil, correcting wrongs and rights. Dancing, dotting, and dashing across the page, my pencil slipped and slid, staining and marking my misguided thoughts. Hoping my heinous hands would soon stop slipping for my teacher was teetering over my desk. He snatched my signing and frowned fiercely. "Emma!" he shouted, "Senselessly scribbling on this book is reprehensibly, wrong! You are to stay after and sit still till four o'clock for five Saturdays!" Sighing sadly as he sat I smiled, for my note noted that detention was delightful.
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