ho were not rich
enough to purchase books, or have access to them as the scholars in the
monasteries had. For at that period of history, you must recall, the
Church was the custodian of learning. Priests wrote the books, copied
them, had charge of such meager libraries as there were, and taught the
people. There were neither schools nor libraries like ours. What wonder
that the public was ignorant and illiterate?"

Paul was thoughtful for a moment or two.

"Maybe schools are not such a bad thing, Dad," he remarked, half in fun.
"They are dreadfully inconvenient, to be sure, when you want to go and
play football; still I guess we are better off with them than we should
be without them."

"I reckon you'd think so, were you to try the experiment of being
without any," replied Mr. Cameron. "By the way, how is your football
team coming on? I have not heard much about it lately."

"I haven't had time to go out with the fellows for any practice work,"
confessed Paul, "so I am not so well up in what they are doing as I
ought to be. This paper of ours keeps me hopping. We want to make the
first issue a bully one--so good that everybody who hasn't subscribed
will want to, double-quick. The girls are working up a fine department
on Red Cross, canning, and all that sort of thing. I've allowed them
three pages for articles and items. Hazel Clement is at the head of it.
She's a corking girl, and her mother is going to help her some. Mrs.
Clement has been on all sorts of planning boards and committees, and
National Leagues and things," concluded Paul vaguely.

"It would be interesting to get Mrs. Clement to write you an article
some time," suggested Mr. Cameron.

"Do you suppose she would?"

"Certainly. She is a very public-spirited woman; moreover, she is quite
as much interested in the boys and girls of Burmingham as the rest of us
are, I am sure."

"I've a great mind to ask her," said Paul. "If we could get one fine
article a month from some parent who has something to say, it would help
us tremendously. Of course, it would have to be on something the
scholars would be keen on though: home gardens, or earning money, or
citizenship, or making things."

"I am certain that if you explained your editorial policy to some of the
grown-ups they would submit manuscripts to you," returned Mr. Cameron
mischievously. "You would not be obliged to bind yourself to publish
them if they were not satisfactory. Editors are always at libe