nely with his Latin and
Algibbery--I'm sure I've heard a lot of it, when I've been goin' through
the room, if you ain't; and if he's took it into his head to git book
larnin', and maybe scratch enough together to go away somewheres to
school, why, I'm sure, there's older boys than him, and not so bright,
have ketched up if they set there minds to it, and as for our
teacher--Madeline!"

"Oh, I've no doubt but what Miss Hungerford meant kindly," said Madeline,
with the lightness she could so suddenly assume. "It's a mighty queer
world, that's all!" she added presently, rising and putting on her
bonnet; "and managed very queerly, for I suppose it is managed. I'm going
out, ma. Those children have split my head with their noise to-day, and I
promised Patty I'd come in and sit awhile. Now, if I've been cross and
crazy, don't you and teacher talk me over," she said, looking back and
trying hard to smile--and she did look very tired and white, as though
she had been suffering--"and if those children wake up and begin to
squall"--with a glance towards the little bedroom--"let 'em squall. If
I've wished it once to-day, I have a hundred times, that they was the
other side of sunset!"

"I wish you'd step into Lihu's--such a poor, sufferin' creetur as he
is--with these," said Grandma, appearing from the pantry with some eggs
in her apron. "I wish you could take the consolations of religion with
you, Madeline," she continued gravely, as Mrs. Philander was closing the
door.

"Lord, ma! my pocket's full now!" exclaimed Madeline. "Besides, they
might break the eggs!" And the latch fell down with a click.

"I wish Madeline was a believer," Grandma sighed, purposely rattling
about the cover of the stove to wake up Grandpa, who had fallen asleep in
his chair.

Grandpa looked at me, and smiled feebly, then roused himself to meet this
supposed challenge like a man.

"Believer, ma?" said he; "why ain't I a believer? As old Cap'n Gates
said to me on his last voyage"--Grandpa yawned alarmingly (poor old man!
he was but half awake), as this unlucky reminiscence of his sea-faring
life flitted through his brain--"says he, 'I read my almanick and my
Bible, both, Bijonah;' says he, 'I read 'em both, and I believe there's a
great deal o' truth in both on 'em.'"

"Thar, pa!" said Grandma, solemnly, "you'd _better_ go to sleep! you'd
_better_ close your eyes, Bijonah Keeler! What if you should never open
'em again on earthly scenes, and them