At the door Tom dropped back a step and accosted a Sunday-dressed comrade: "Say, Billy, got a yaller ticket ?" "Yes." "What'll you take for her ?" "What'll you give ?" "Piece of lickrish and a fish-hook." "Less see 'em." Tom exhibited.

They were satisfactory, and the property changed hands.
Then Tom traded a couple of white alleys for three red tickets, and some small trifle or other for a couple of blue ones.

He waylaid other boys as they came, and went on buying tickets of various colors ten or fifteen minutes longer.

He entered the church, now, with a swarm of clean and noisy boys and girls, proceeded to his seat and started a quarrel with the first boy that came handy.

The teacher, a grave, elderly man, interfered; then turned his back a moment and Tom pulled a boy's hair in the next bench, and was absorbed in his book when the boy turned around; stuck a pin in another boy, presently, in order to hear him say "Ouch!" and got a new reprimand from his teacher.