clothes. He felt them an intolerable burden. He
did not mind his new homespun, home-made flannel check shirt of mixed
red and white, but the heavy fulled-cloth suit made by his Aunt Kirsty
felt like a suit of mail. He moved heavily in it and felt queer, and
knew that he looked as he felt. The result was that he was in no genial
mood, and was on the alert for any indication of levity at his expense.

Hughie, on the contrary, like the girls, delighted in new clothes.
His new black suit, made down from one of his father's, with infinite
planning and pains by his mother, and finished only at twelve o'clock
the night before, gave him unmixed pleasure. And handsome he looked in
it. All the little girls proclaimed that in their shy, admiring glances,
while the big girls teased and petted and threatened to kiss him. Of
course the boys all scorned him and his finery, and tried to "take him
down," but Hughie was so unfeignedly pleased with himself, and moved so
easily and naturally in his grand attire, and was so cheery and frank
and happy, that no one thought of calling him "proud."

Soon after ten the sleighloads began to arrive. It was a mild winter
day, when the snow packed well, and there fluttered down through the
still air a few lazy flakes, large, soft, and feathery, like bits of the
clouds floating white against the blue sky. The sleighs were driven up
to the door with a great flourish and jingle of bells, and while the
master welcomed the ladies, the fathers and big brothers drove the
horses to the shelter of the thick-standing pines, and unhitching them,
tied them to the sleigh-boxes, where, blanketed and fed, they remained
for the day.

Within an hour the little school-house was packed, the children crowded
tight into the long desks, and the visitors on the benches along the
walls and in the seats of the big boys and girls. On the platform were
such of the trustees as could muster up the necessary courage--old Peter
MacRae, who had been a dominie in the Old Country, the young minister
and his wife, and the schoolteacher from the "Sixteenth."

First came the wee tots, who, in wide-eyed, serious innocence, went
through their letters and their "ox" and "cat" combinations and
permutations with great gusto and distinction. Then they were dismissed
to their seats by a series of mental arithmetic questions, sums
of varying difficulty being propounded, until little white-haired,
blue-eyed Johnnie Aird, with the single big