cher's got
on."

"Gee," whistled David, "girls are always thinking of clothes."

Phoebe gave him a disdainful look, but he laughed and walked by her
side, up the three steps, across the porch and into the schoolhouse.

The red brick schoolhouse on the hill was a typical country school of
Lancaster County. It had one large room with four rows of double desks
and seats facing the teacher's desk and a long blackboard with its
border of A B C. A stove stood in one of the corners in the front of the
room. In the rear numerous hooks in the wall waited for the children's
wraps and a low bench stood ready to receive their lunch baskets and
kettles. Each detail of the little schoolhouse was reproduced in scores
of other rural schools of that community. And yet, somehow, many of the
older children felt on that first Monday a hope that their school would
be different that year, that the teacher from Philadelphia would change
many of the old ways and teach them, what Youth most desires, new ways,
new manners, new things. It is only as the years bring wisdom that men
and women appreciate the old things of life, as well as the new.

The new teacher became at once the predominating spirit of that little
group. The interest of all the children, from the shy little beginners
in the Primer class to the tall ones in the A class, was centered about
her.

Miss Lee stood by her desk as Phoebe and the two boys entered. It was
still that delightful period, before-school, when laughter could be
released and voices raised without a fear of "keep quiet." The children
moved to the teacher's desk as though drawn by magnetic force. Mary
Warner, her dark curls hanging over her shoulders, appeared already
acquainted with her. Several tiny beginners stood near the desk, a few
older scholars were bravely offering their services to fetch water from
Eby's "whenever it's all or you want some fresh," or else stay and clap
the erasers clean.

When the second tug at the bell-rope gave the final call for the opening
of school there was an air of gladness in the room. The new teacher
possessed enough of the elusive "something" the country children felt
belonged to a teacher from a big city like Philadelphia. The way she
conducted the opening exercises, led the singing, and then proceeded
with the business of arranging classes and assigning lessons served to
intensify the first feelings of satisfaction. When recess came the
children ran outdoors, ostensib