hing more dangerous than a
pouring rain could be expected to disturb its peace and safety.

When the first term in the new and most desirable quarters commenced, it
was with a stranger as the teacher. Our little schoolmistress was to
spend the winter in the home where she had been so tenderly cared for
during the long time of bodily prostration which followed the
overstraining of her nervous system at the time of her escape with the
children under her care.

Busy with spinning-wheel and loom and sewing-machine, and with her
diligent efforts to prepare Nils to enter with honour a higher school
than that over which she had presided, the winter passed pleasantly
away. Nils's examination surpassed the utmost expectations of his
teacher. His sweet, grateful humility in the midst of honour was as
touching as his humble submission to the great misfortune which had
threatened to overshadow his whole life.

The little schoolmistress took, with the opening spring, the place of a
private teacher--a position that she had been strongly urged to fill.
Her first scholar was a tall fellow, who was sure he could learn from
her in the higher branches much that was important for him to
understand.

The second pupil, who came in later on, was a little chap. He did not
understand Swedish, nor did he know much in any direction, it was said.
But how could he expect a fair estimation of his abilities, when the
judges were not at home in his language, nor he in theirs? He, however,
improved rapidly, and was soon not only able to speak Swedish, but
comprehended many matters so well that he was a great help to the
younger pupils who came in by degrees to be taught. He was too, in a
way, a teacher for the schoolmistress herself, and had his credentials
from the very highest authority.

The class increased as years went on, and was ever a delightful source
of interest to the happy instructress. The children did not call her
"teacher," or "mistress," or even "Miss Tora;" they said simply
"mother," which she thought the sweetest name in the world.

As to the first, the tall scholar, who was what Nils had promised to be,
her permanent pupil, he was not always as obedient and submissive as he
might have been. Even when he sat opposite to her at the dinner-table,
in the presence of stranger guests, he would sometimes, contrary to her
express command, tell the story of the great April thaw, and the escape
of the little schoolmistress with her pupi