the set phrase, "May I have the pleasure of your company home?" and she
saw herself sailing away upon his arm.

She was very happy as she sat in church that morning, as happy as Mrs.
Smith herself, and as proud when she saw the object of her affections
swinging up the aisle to the collection table, and from the ring she
knew that it could not be less than a half dollar that he put in.

There was a special note of praise in her voice as she joined in singing
the doxology that morning, and her heart kept quivering and fluttering
like a frightened bird as the people gathered in groups, chattering and
shaking hands, and he drew nearer to her. Now they were almost together;
in a moment their eyes would meet. Her breath came quickly; he had
looked at her, surely he must have seen her. His mother was just behind
him, and he did not speak. Maybe she had changed, maybe he had forgotten
her. An unaccustomed boldness took possession of her, and she determined
that she would not be overlooked. She pressed forward. She saw his
mother take his arm and heard her whisper, "Dere's Sally Ma'tin" this
time, and she knew that he looked at her. He bowed as if to a stranger,
and was past her the next minute. When she saw him again he was swinging
out of the door between two admiring lines of church-goers who separated
on the pavement. There was a brazen yellow girl on his arm.

She felt weak and sick as she hid behind the crowd as well as she could,
and for that morning she thanked God that she was small.

Aunt Mandy trudged home alone, and when the street was cleared and the
sexton was about to lock up, the girl slipped out of the church and down
to her own little house. In the friendly shelter of her room she took
off her gay attire and laid it away, and then sat down at the window and
looked dully out. For her, the light of day had gone out.

_Sixteen_

THE BOY AND THE BAYONET

It was June, and nearing the closing time of school. The air was full of
the sound of bustle and preparation for the final exercises, field day,
and drills. Drills especially, for nothing so gladdens the heart of the
Washington mother, be she black or white, as seeing her boy in the blue
cadet's uniform, marching proudly to the huzzas of an admiring crowd.
Then she forgets the many nights when he has come in tired out and dusty
from his practice drill, and feels only the pride and elation of the
result.

Although Tom did all he could outside of stud