DSP-- Story: Lost in a Book

"The next girl was Becky Thatcher. Tom was trembling from head to
foot with excitement and a sense of the hopelessness of the situation.
'Rebecca Thatcher [Tom glanced at her face, it was white with terror,] --
did you tear --' "

Sharon paused in her reading. She wished that for once Tom would
not intervene, and Becky would get the whipping she so clearly
deserved. But the book never changed.

"Sharon Peasly, are you reading a novel again? Have you finished
your math? *And* your geography?"

"Yes, Sir I was. No, I haven't quite finished, but--"

"Then get to it now, and then write out 100 copies of 'I must learn to
finish my work before I start to play.' To be handed in before bedtime.

"Yes, Sir." Sharon put away the Twain, and got out her math. It took
her quite a while. She knew she should get on with her geography, and
her lines, but she wanted to read just a little more of Tom Sawyer, first.
Just a few minutes break, she told herself. Soon she was absorbed, deep
in the cave with Tom and Becky.

Suddenly, he was back. "Sharon, half-an-hour to lights-out. You
should have been out of the study long since. I'll take your lines, now."

"Uh. my lines? Well. uh. Sir, I'm afraid I haven't quite, uh,
finished them yet."

"Sharon Peasly! Well, lets see the ones you have done, then. And
your math and geography."

"Here is my math, Sir, all complete. I, Uh, I'm afraid I haven't done
my geography, or any of my lines, yet."

"You lazy girl! I am most vexed with you. Clearly you need a serious
lesson. Perhaps a good dose of the strap will remind you to obey." He
marched her down the hall into the gym. Soon she was bent over the
vaulting horse, bare bottomed. The strapping that followed was long and
hard.

"Let that be a lesson to you, young lady. Now I want 500 lines from
you, before bed tomorrow. You will be on restriction for a week, with no
privileges, and if I catch you with a novel during that time I will get out
the cane. No lunch for you tomorrow, spend that time on your lines.
Now it's straight to bed for you, young lady.

He marched her right back to her dormitory. Everybody looked up,
knowing that she must have just gotten it. She winced at their gaze, and
sobbed.

"Was Sherry a bad girl? Got a smacking?"

"Yes, dammit. He caught me with work and lines undone. Ow!." She
rubbed her bottom and buried her face in her bedclothes.

"Careful. Language."

"Come on, give the kid a break. I remember the last time *you* got
it."

"Aw, ok"

Sharon cried herself to sleep as the other girls chattered. She wished
that some gallant Tom Sawyer had come to *her* rescue.