all the time."

"What's the capital of Massachusetts?" demanded Miss Bailey, changing
the subject with a jerk.

"It's Grandpa's capital that's bothering me," laughed Gertie, but she
allowed herself to be led away from the trials and problems of Goerck
Street into the cool groves of learning.

* * * * *

A few mornings later Miss Blake, whose kingdom, Room 17, bordered upon
Miss Bailey's territory, bustled into Room 18 with a fat and elaborate
purse in her hand.

"You know that wicked little Hymie Abrahams who seems to be always
getting into trouble," she began, when the First Readers had stiffened
to straight "attention" and sat, each in his little place, like some
extraordinary form of tin soldiers.

Miss Bailey nodded. She had indeed for many days been haunted by the
fear that Hymie Abrahams would perpetrate some too flagrant breach of
discipline, and be degraded to the First Reader class, and she
naturally dreaded the advent of such a wolf among her little lambs.

"Well," said Miss Blake, "he can't be all bad. I guess he has some human
feelings. He brought me this bag this morning. Says his mother doesn't
need it any more, and wants me to have it. It's almost new, you see, and
really very handsome. Just let me show you the fittings. I guess his
mother wouldn't find much use for powder puffs and mirrors and
smelling-salts. Not if I know anything about the women of the East Side,
she wouldn't."

She spread the glittering useless things upon Miss Bailey's desk, and
the force with which this bribe carried away her earlier dislike showed
that Hymie Solomon had mastered the art of character reading. And Miss
Bailey, as she reviewed the dainty paraphernalia spread before her,
found herself wondering how soon Madame Solomon would miss her treasures
and come storming in pursuit of them. And beside Miss Bailey's desk sat
Isidore Cohen in an agony of doubt and disillusionment. His one childish
attribute was that of believing that all he knew must be common
knowledge. Therefore he argued that the powers before him knew as well
as he did that Hymie Solomon was motherless, and that Miss Blake would
be most unwise to look her gift purse in the pedigree. And so, as Miss
Blake exhibited and Miss Bailey admired, the work of weeks was undone.
One teacher was acting as a "fence," and another was cheering and
encouraging her. He had doubted this "honesty the best policy"
propaganda from the first