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Billy looked at her thoughtfully, wondering why her fearless criticism did not displease him; lifted his battered hat and mussed again his tousled hair. “All right, Fair Ellen, I’ll try to obey the—” If I only had an Idean vine; what is it, Billy?” It took some time to focus her intellect on the proper placing of mirthful youngsters, but at last, after singing “Like a little candle burning in the night,” all were in readiness to imbibe biblical learning..

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But May Nell recovered almost before Mrs. Bennett had time to lift her. “I often do—do—faint,” she apologized, “it isn’t—isn’t ’t all dangerous.” She smiled at Mrs. Bennett, and the smile, the sweet, pale little face with her hair a shining golden halo around it, made of her an ethereal being almost unreal to the awestricken children. Yet she was soon merry again, apparently as well as ever. “Now Moses,” she called at the end of the third verse, “git the water for the rinsin’.” The clanking lessened and slowly died down to a complaining rumble. It might have been some monster suffering from indigestion. When brother and sister left her, strange thoughts flitted through her head. She heard Mrs. Bennett beating eggs in the kitchen; saw the logs Billy had piled in the wood-box. On the wall above the piano hung Edith’s schedule—time table, Billy called it. May Nell had already studied it, had seen the fifty or more lessons set for each week; and needlework on the music table, and books there the child had discovered were for music study,—these told her what a busy woman Billy’s sister must be. “Yes, Mosey, I jist want to go to my mornin’-glory garding to tell it good-night.” She rubbed her sleepy tear-stained eyes..