of the afternoon an idea persisted with him, and
when the Teacher left the building at last she found him waiting for her
on the wide steps.

"You want me, dear?" she asked.

"I shall tell you somethings," Morris began in evident embarrassment.

"Yes, dear."

"It's over those prizes."

"Yes, Morris."

"Miss Bailey, it's like this. You don't need to care sooner you ain't
got on'y _six_ prizes. Seven prizes I guess costs bunches und bunches
from money. So six prizes comes on Patrick's yard, that's all right.
Stands one boy what don't needs no prize."

"He must be a strange little boy," commented Teacher. "I never before
heard of a boy who didn't like prizes."

"Oh, he likes 'em; _how_ he likes 'em. I ain't said he ain't got
feelin's over 'em. On'y it's like this: he don't needs you shall buy
prizes for him the whiles you got to buy six prizes already."

"I think I understand, dear," Teacher answered, and she set out for the
shopping district and bought six prizes of great glitter and little
worth. But the seventh was such a watch as a boy might use and treasure
through all the years of his boyhood.

The great day dawned bright and clear. Miss Bailey's entrance, punctual
and parcel-laden, in a festive frilly frock and a flowery hat, caused
something almost like silence to fall upon the scene of the coming
tournament. Eva Gonorowsky clasped Teacher's unoccupied hand, Sarah
Schodsky and Yetta Aaronsohn relieved her of her bundles. Sadie
Gonorowsky gesticulated madly from the place upon the sofa which she was
reserving with all the expanse of her outspread skirt.

Teacher approached the grand stand and took her place. The feminine
First Readers swarmed upon the soap boxes. But neither leg nor arm nor
even eye was moved by the seven masculine First Readers drawn up in the
centre of the yard. Flags waved in such profusion and such uniformity
that even Miss Bailey's obligation to her hosts could not blind her to
the fact that she had at last found the fifty-two American flags pasted
together by the First Reader Class when Washington's Birthday was in the
air and the offing. Two weeks ago she had missed them out of the
cupboard, and neither janitor nor Monitor could give her tidings of
them. They looked very well, she was forced to admit, dangling from high
fence and clothes line. And very bright and joyant was the whole scene.
The little girls in their bright colors. The sky so blue. Mrs. Brennan's
pear tree in st