he medium of that "valuable" and popular paper the "Clarion."

Now, however, it maintained a decorous silence upon local affairs, and
if, by any inadvertence, it was betrayed into its natural play of wit,
so that, for a moment, it might seem to hinge upon the absorbing topic
of public interest, and to favor any one side in particular, it was
immediately observed to lean heavily the other way, to draw off the
attention of its numerous and discriminating readers. The cause for this
unusual state of things had not, as yet, transpired, but was soon to be
made known to those more immediately concerned.

In a small place like Waveland, the inhabitants, as every one knows, are
very liable to go to extremes in almost everything they undertake. Thus,
if a new comer excites their favorable notice, they have nothing to do
but to ride at once, upon the very topmost wave of popular favor.

If, on the contrary, they decide against them, there is no crime within
the knowledge of man, of which they are not severally accused and
considered guilty, without any extenuating circumstances.

So it was not so much to be wondered at, that when Clemence once fell
into disfavor, she had lost the good graces of the majority at once and
forever. Within a short space of time, every house was closed against
her, with the exception of a few staunch friends' hospitable abodes,
and she received a polite but cold request from the school committee to
resign her situation.

"What _can_ it mean?" she asked in despair. "I surely have done nothing
to offend these people?"

"As if the miserable, pusillanimous reprobates did not know it as well
as you!" spluttered Mrs. Wynn, with her apron to her eyes. Clemence's
white face, with its appealing look, had gone straight to her motherly
heart. "The unfeeling creatures, to take away a girl's character, like
that! There had _ought_ to be a place of everlasting punishment for such
wretches, and I know they'll get it, sure as the Lord reigns. But I told
you so! I knew how it would be when you went to pickin' that lazy, idle,
shiftless, good-for-nothing thing of a Mis' Owen out of the dirt, and
settin' her up to be somebody. I knew there wasn't no ambition in her no
how, and she didn't want to be anybody herself. She's only mad now,
because you showed yourself so far above her, and she hates you for your
pains. You never asked my advice, though, and I thought I'd keep my
fingers out of the mess, for once in my lif