about in the old-fashioned garden,
where dahlias, sweet alyssum, marigolds, ladies' breastpin and
snapdragons still bloomed in the bright September sunshine.

Miss Lee, guided by Phoebe, examined every nook of the big garden,
peered into the deserted wren-house and listened to the child's story of
the six baby wrens reared in the box that summer. Finally Phoebe
suggested sitting on a bench half screened by rose-bushes and
honeysuckle. There, in that green spot, Miss Lee tactfully coaxed the
child to unfold her charming personality, all serenely unconscious of
the fact that inside the gray house the white-capped women were
discussing the new teacher as they prepared the dinner.

"She seems vonderful nice and common," volunteered Aunt Maria. "Not
stuck up, for a Phildelphy lady."

"Well, why should she be stuck up?" argued one. "Ain't she just Mollie
Stern's cousin? Course, Mollie's nice, but nothing tony."

"Anyhow, the children all like her," spoke up another woman. "My Enos
learns good this year."

"I guess she's all right," said another, "but Amande, my sister, says
that she's after her Lizzie all the time for the way she talks. The
teacher tells her all the time not to talk so funny, not to get her t's
and d's and her v's and w's mixed. Goodness knows, them letters is near
enough alike to get them mixed sometimes. I mix them myself. Manda don't
want her Lizzie made high-toned, for then nothing will be good enough
for her any more."

"Ach, I guess Miss Lee won't do that," said Aunt Maria. "I know I'm glad
the teacher ain't the kind to put on airs. When I heard they put in a
teacher from Phildelphy I was afraid she'd be the kind to teach the
children a lot of dumb notions and that Phoebe would be spoiled----
Here, Sister Minnich, is the holder for that pan. I guess the ham is
fried enough. Yes, ain't the chicken smells good! I roasted it
yesterday, so it needs just a good heating to-day."

"Shall I take the sweet potatoes off, Maria?"

"Yes, they're brown enough, and the coffee's about done, and plenty of
it, too."

"And it smells good, too," chorused several women.

"It's just twenty-eight cent coffee; I get it in Greenwald. I guess the
things can be put out now. Call the men, Susan."

In quick order the long table in the dining-room--used only upon
occasions like this--was filled with smoking, savory dishes, the men
called from the porches and yard and everybody, except the two women who
helped Aunt Mar