Year: 1869

First person love, second person thou


lowest, third person he loves" drawled the


head boy in the class. The next, little


girl, took it up promptly; Plural-Fi7st


person we love, second person you love,


third person they love-"


| "And we all love-"


| The interruption came in whisper, loud
enough to be heard all over the room, caus-
lug the older boys and girls to smile and gig
gle and the teacher, Miss Olive Burnett,
locked up quickly, glancing along the row
of large scholars on the back seat-young
men and women-for this was country
school, and in the winter. She had come to
look for trouble in that quarter. Every day
| some fresh aggravation, some new infringe
ment of the rules and offence against the
discipline made ii hard work for her, girl
OF eighteen, to maintain her authority over
those forty turbulent spirits, constantly in
cited to insubordination by the example of
their acknowledged leader, Scott Goldrick.
He sat there, at the further end of the
BENCH quite in the corner, good-lookipg
young man of twenty, with curly chestnut
hair and mutinous curve OF the lip, with
head bent over his slate, and fingers busy in
figuring out some difficult problem in arith-
metic. But Miss Burnett was not deceived
by the apparently studious air. And there
was an undertonc of resolute determination
in her voice as she said, looking quietly over
the forty faces before her:


"These interruptions must come to an
end at once. There is point where for
bearance ceases to be a virtue, and l think
ii has been passed. From this time out /
shall enforce every rule of the school, The
penalty for the next interruption OF this
kind will be twelve strokes of the ruler"
carelessly balancing the slip of cherry wood
in her hand.


The clear, bright face in the corner was
lifted for moment; the dark hazel eye
looked steadily into Miss Burnctt's blue
eyes; only for a moment, the space of
breath; then the hand went on again stead
lily with that endless MAJ. of figures. Miss
Burnett went on with her work.
Hard work il was, especially hard work
| tod day. All day long the vivid scarlet had
burned in her cheeks, making her passing
lovely. while her temples throbbcd with
pain, and one Of the chlldrcn feeling her fc-
verish touch wondered "what made Miss
Burneits hand 50 hot" She must not give
up though. There was too much depending
on her for that. A helpless mother and two
little sisters, hardly more than babies yet,
all dependent for the bread they ate upon
the over-worked young teacher. Truly,
failure here would be her disaster.
But she must not fail. Would those in
lerninable lessons never be finished? She
wanted to go home and rest.


Two hours of tolcrable quiet order and
the days work was nearly ended, when in
the midst of the last recitation came again
that inIerrupting whisper, plainly heard oil
over the room.


For an instant Olive Burnetts heart
failed her Could she muster courage
enough to lerulc Scott Goldrick, the oldest
and largest boy in school-a man growA?
The thought came at once that il was un-
manly in him to try her so. But, right or
wrong, her word was passed and must be
kept; her authority was assailed and must
bo maintained now or lost altogether. To
falter now was to give up all. So, calling
up all her nerve, though her head throbbed
dizzily, she closed her book quietly, dis.
missed the class and faced the school as she
said slowly:


"The scholar who whispered that last time
will please step forward


There was dead silence for an instant,
then Scott Goldrick left his seat and walked
up to where the young teacher stood. No
boyish mischief in his mauner now; no
mocking Difference, but, instead, q quiet
manliness that was harder to meet than any
bravado would have been.


" You can understand, sIr. GolJrick, that
this is not pleasant duty to me- her voice
steady, but lower than usual, so low that
some who were listening did not catch the
words at alt, "Yo1 can understand that It