ut awe, as if
it were milk and honey in their mouths. Why should they reverence
Shakespeare more than any one else?

Margaret had grown used to seeing a head appear suddenly at one of the
school-room windows and look long and frowningly first at her, then at
the school, and then back to her again, as if it were a nine days'
wonder. Whoever the visitor was, he would stand quietly, watching the
process of the hour as if he were at a play, and Margaret would turn and
smile pleasantly, then go right on with her work. The visitor would
generally take off a wide hat and wave it cordially, smile back a
curious, softened smile, and by and by he would mount his horse and pass
on reflectively down the trail, wishing he could be a boy and go back
again to school--such a school!

Oh, it was not all smooth, the way that Margaret walked. There were
hitches, and unpleasant days when nothing went right, and when some of
the girls got silly and rebellious, and the boys followed in their lead.
She had her trials like any teacher, skilful as she was, and not the
least of them became Rosa Rogers, the petted beauty, who presently
manifested a childish jealousy of her in her influence over the boys.
Noting this, Margaret went out of her way to win Rosa, but found it a
difficult matter.

Rosa was proud, selfish, and unprincipled. She never forgave any one who
frustrated her plans. She resented being made to study like the rest.
She had always compelled the teacher to let her do as she pleased and
still give her a good report. This she found she could not do with
Margaret, and for the first time in her career she was compelled to work
or fall behind. It presently became not a question of how the new
teacher was to manage the big boys and the bad boys of the Ashland Ridge
School, but how she was to prevent Rosa Rogers and a few girls who
followed her from upsetting all her plans. The trouble was, Rosa was
pretty and knew her power over the boys. If she chose she could put them
all in a state of insubordination, and this she chose very often during
those first few weeks.

But there was one visitor who did not confine himself to looking in at
the window.

One morning a fine black horse came galloping up to the school-house at
recess-time, and a well-set-up young man in wide sombrero and jaunty
leather trappings sprang off and came into the building. His shining
spurs caught the sunlight and flashed as he moved. He walked with the
air of on