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The infant class which was to be under the guidance of Mrs. Wopp for the day, consisted of seven small pupils. They were seated on a low bench in one corner of the church. Green denim curtains were hung in such a way that, after the preliminary devotional exercises, the little class could be screened from the adults and older pupils. A blackboard stood on the floor, and upon a table near by were many colored crayons. The infantile mind required such aids to the imagination. “What’s the matter with Billy To-morrow? He’s thirteen! Three and ten! Most a man! He’s all right!” “Awfully hard, Billy. Some of them had ‘grief swimming in their eyes.’”.

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Nancy was the older and larger of the two, and having long been the pampered favorite of the house, she had at first resented the introduction of Jethro. She would not associate with him at all, and whenever he came dancing into the room where she was, she generally withdrew with the greatest possible dignity. As many of the hens and chickens as could be persuaded were ushered into the yard to add to the numerical strength of the menagerie. “Oh Mosey,” cried Betty at the breakfast table, being first on the scene to arrange her flowers, “we’ll hev a spellin’ match to-day I bet.” One brilliant Sunday Mr. Wells paced up and down in the sunshine before his little church. An ardent lover of nature he was admiring the beautiful shades of the foliage on either hand and the gorgeous masses of golden-rod that lifted feathery heads to the sun. Presently seeing two or three vehicles approaching he retired into the church..