Two weeks passed, the class had worked hard, and even Black Ribbon had pulled up wonderfully, but Silver Ribbon had the highest number of marks. The time for prize-giving, however, had not come, but the pupils were to get a rest for two or three days before going through a special examination, which would last half a day. When this was over the prizes would be given, and then there would be the glorious holidays, with excursions far into the forest.

Meantime Silver Ribbon got the preliminary silver medal attached to her neck. The other pupils crowded around her, congratulated her, and kissed her. Black Ribbon took her hand in his, and in a simple boyish way promised her a nut. Then they all carried her home shoulder high, singing and dancing merrily. Her mother, a kind, thin, old squirrel, with soft, black, melting eyes, was quite excited as she received her victorious daughter with a good big hug and many kisses. But her father, who was a stout, gruff-toned squirrel, though not unkind, was suspicious.

“I can’t understand,” said he, “why a girl that never does anything but play never studies at home should be the very head of a class of clever boys and girls. There is no special gift in our family to explain it: I fear there is something wrong.”

And, sad to say, her father’s honest suspicion was too well founded. The explanation is this. One day shortly after the class was formed, and when the other squirrels had all gone home from play, either to study or help their parents, Silver Ribbon remained stealthily behind to amuse herself as best she could. Hearing a soft noise in the tree upon whose branches she was leaping and running, she turned quickly round and saw a large, dark snake with gleaming, piercing eyes. She was frightened and was about to run away, which she could easily have done, as the reptile was not very near, but it spoke at once, and in a soft, attractive, motherly voice persuaded her to stay a minute.

“Do you wish to be at the head of your class, dear?” enquired the snake.

“I do indeed,” answered Silver Ribbon, “it is a great honor.”

“You can easily secure it,” said the snake.

“Without labor and trouble?” enquired the squirrel.

“Yes, if you do what I tell you.”

“What shall I do?” asked the squirrel.

“What is your position in the class at present?” the reptile asked.

“I am second, but I have reached it mainly by a cunning copying from the other slates, and I fear I can’t keep that up long.”

“You suffer slightly from a weak spine, don’t you?” enquired the snake in a sympathetic tone.

“I do,” said Silver Ribbon.

“Well, dear, take my advice, and when the class meets again go to your teacher in a very modest manner and make a graceful curtsey. Tell him that though you would not in the least mind being at the lower end of the class, yet because of your weak back he might favor you by allowing you the support of the shade tree opposite the 4th place. This will win him, for his mother has taught him to love modesty and to be kind. Having secured that place for the remainder of the session, watch what the three pupils above you jot down on their slates, and copy all their answers if they be different. When the teacher comes to examine the slates, beginning with number one, and mentions who is correct, you will know which answer to rub out, which you can easily do without being suspected. Do as I tell you, and you will be as often successful as any one of the three best pupils above you is correct. Be clever, be cunning, there is no harm in wrong-doing, and you will get honor and reward without any trouble, with plenty of time to go about idle and amuse yourself. Glide along through life as I do, dear, as smoothly and as pleasantly as you can, taking everything and giving nothing.”

Although Silver Ribbon could not quite shake off her dread of the snake, and therefore kept her former safe distance, yet the advice was ingenious and charming. She at once agreed to take it, and having thanked the cunning reptile, she hurriedly scampered home.

“I shall have you as a choice mouthful yet, and, through you, all the rest of your nimble pretty crowd,” said the snake, when Silver Ribbon was gone. The reptile was an active specimen of the great boa-constrictor tribe, thirty feet long. It had taken a trip from the sunny South to the North, deceiving and doing much mischief on the way. Its advice was the secret of Silver Ribbon’s success.