her at
the station. In this great bustling, pushing throng she seemed like an
old friend.

"Do you know where I could find a boarding-house?" asked Polly
breathlessly.

The Travelers' Aid took her by the hand and piloted her safely across
the street; and when the street-car had clanged by and she could be
heard, she told Polly that she would take her to a boarding-house
where she would be quite safe.

Polly stopped and asked her what was the name of the place.

"Y.W.C.A.," said the Aid, smiling.

Polly gave a sigh of relief. "I know what that is," she said. "Mr.
Ellis said that was the place to go when you go to a city. Will you
let me stay until I find a school?"

"We'll find the school," said the other woman. "That is what we are
for; we look after girls like you. We are glad to find a girl who
wants to go to school."

Polly laid her pack down to change hands and looked about her in
delight. The big brick buildings, the store-windows, even the
street-signs with their flaring colors, were all beautiful to her.

"Gee!" she said, "I like the city--it's swell!"

Polly was taken to the office of the secretary of the Y.W.C.A., and
there, under the melting influence of Miss Bradshaw's kind eyes and
sweet voice, she told all her hopes and fears.

"Our teacher has gone to be a soldier and we could not get another,
for they say it is too lonesome--out our way--and how can it be
lonesome? There's children in every house. But, anyway, lady-teachers
won't come and the men are all gone to the war. I'll bet I won't be
scared to teach when I grow up, but of course I won't be a lady; it's
different with them--they are always scared of something. We have a
cabin for the teacher, and three chairs and a painted table and a
stove and a bed, and a brass knob on the door, and we always brought
cream and eggs and bread for the teacher; and we washed his dishes for
him, and the girl that had the best marks all week could scrub his
floor on Friday afternoons. He was so nice to us all that we all cried
when he enlisted, but he explained it all to us--that there are some
things dearer than life and he just felt that he had to go. He said
that he would come back if he was not killed. Maybe he will only have
one arm and one leg, but we won't mind as long as there is enough of
him to come back. We tried and tried to get another teacher, but there
are not enough to fill the good schools, and ours is twenty miles from
a station and in