ley's newest responsibility walked beside
her with a free and upright carriage strangely at variance with the
shoes he walked in. Once or twice she spoke to him, and his answer was
an uncomprehending but courteous inclination of the little head. Once he
spoke to her. It was when they passed the platform in the Assembly Room.
He pointed to the piano and said something eagerly, authoritatively, in
that language whose like Miss Bailey had never heard. She nodded and
smiled at him, and they fared on together.

Again, at the door of Room 18, he punctiliously allowed her to precede
him. But as he entered after her and met the full regard of Room 18's
dark eyes, he stopped and returned the glances bent upon him with a
cool, insulting indifference.

"This is a new little boy," announced Miss Bailey, "to whom I want you
all to be very kind. He doesn't speak much English, but we shall teach
him that. Morris, he will sit near you."

Morris Mowgelewsky, all timid friendliness, approached the stranger.
Here surely was a queer new little boy in a "from man's" coat, and an
exceeding dirty face; yet if Miss Bailey hailed him as a new little
friend, then as a new little friend he must be made welcome.

"Talk to him a moment, Morris," Teacher commanded. "See if he won't tell
you what his name is."

Morris obeyed, and the child answered him in the words that had so upset
Miss Rosen. But Morris had left Russia when he was only two years old,
and the phrase held no meaning for him, though the tone made him pause.

"I don't know how he says," Morris reported to Miss Bailey. "I says out
of Jewish, 'What is your name, little boy?' und I don't know what he
says. On'y it ain't names, und it ain't lovin'."

"Very well, dear, you may go back to your place. I'll keep him here
beside me for a while," answered Teacher, more than ever at a loss, for
the winningness of Morris had never failed to charm a stranger.

At the recess hour, when all the other children filed down into the
yard, Teacher sent Patrick Brennan with a little note to Mr. Eissler,
the teacher of the biggest boys, those nearly ready for graduation. He
was an elderly man wearing well in the service to which the noblest of
his race have always devoted themselves. He and Miss Bailey were great
friends, and much of the understanding of this alien race--its habits,
its emotions, and its innate refinement--the understanding which made
her reign in Room 18 so peaceful and beneficent,