[Arry]

‘Hey, Woody,’ asked Hanson in a low voice. ‘Just what are we supposed to do with these things?’ Hanson tapped his brother on the arm with his slate, turning it back and forth with a puzzled look on his face.

‘You use your chalk on it,’ Woody whispered back, watching one of the girls making marks on her slate. ‘Or . . . .,’ he went on, grinning at his little brother. ‘You can use it as a head-smacker!’ He cuffed Hanson lightly on the back of his head and stuck out his tongue.

‘Cut it out, Woody!’ growled Hanson loudly, taking a swipe at his brother. ‘I’m gonna tell Uncle Gil if you don’t quit.’ Hanson glared at Woody and scooted to the far edge of the bench. He picked up his piece of chalk and marked a line on the wood between himself and his brother. ‘There! You stay on your own side!’