e months Hinpoha might attend the meetings as before. Those
three months of mourning, however, were sacred to her, and on no account
would she have consented to allow a single ray of cheer to enter the
house during that period.

CHAPTER III.

SOME TRIALS OF GENIUS.

"The sum of the angles of a triangle is equal to two right angles."
Migwan drew the construction lines as indicated in the book and labored
valiantly to understand why the Angle A was equal to its alternate, DBA,
her brow puckered into a studious frown. Geometry was not her long suit,
her talents running to literature and languages. Outside the October sun
was shining on the crimson and yellow maples, making the long street a
scene of dazzling splendor. The carpet of dry leaves on the walk and
sidewalk tantalized Migwan with their crisp dryness; she longed to be
out swishing and crackling through them. She sighed and stirred
impatiently in her chair, wishing heartily that Euclid had died in his
cradle.

"I can't study with all this noise going on!" she groaned, flinging her
pencil and compass down in despair. Indeed, it would have taken a much
more keenly interested person than Migwan to have concentrated on a
geometry lesson just then. From somewhere upstairs there came an
ear-splitting din. It sounded like an earthquake in a tin shop, mingled
with the noise of the sky falling on a glass roof, and accompanied by
the tramping of an army; a noise such as could only have been produced
by an extremely large elephant or an extremely small boy amusing himself
indoors. Migwan rose resolutely and mounted the stairs to the room
overhead, where her twelve-year-old brother and two of his bosom friends
were holding forth. "Tom," she said appealingly, "wouldn't you and the
boys just as soon play outdoors or in somebody else's house? I simply
can't study with all that noise going on."

"But the others have no punching bag," said Tom in an injured tone, "and
Jim brought George over especially to-day to practice."

"Can't you take the punching bag over to Jim's?" suggested Migwan
desperately.

"Sure," said Jim good-naturedly; "that's a good idea." So the boys
unscrewed the object of attraction and departed with it, their pockets
bulging with ginger cookies which Migwan gave them as a reward for their
trouble. Silence fell on the house and Migwan returned to the mastering
of the sum of the angles. Geometry was the bane of her existence and she
was only chee