wore it for a week--this medal.

That afternoon Emmy Lou went round the corner to Mrs. Heinz's little
fancy store. Her chin just came to Mrs. Heinz's counter. But she knew
what she wanted--a yard of blue ribbon.

She showed it to Hattie the next day, folded in its paper, and slipped
for safety beneath the long criss-cross stitches which held the calico
cover of her Second Reader.

Then Hattie explained. One had to stay head a whole week to get the
medal.

Emmy Lou's heart was heavy--the more that she had now seen the medal.
It was a silver medal that said "Merit." It was around Kitty
McKoeghany's neck.

And Kitty tossed her head. And when, at recess, she ran, the medal swung
to and fro on its ribbon. And the big girls all stopped Kitty to look at
the medal.

There was a condition attached to the gaining of the medal. Upon
receiving it one had to go foot. But that mattered little to Kitty
McKoeghany. Kitty climbed right up again.

And Emmy Lou peeped surreptitiously at the blue ribbon in her Second
Reader. And at home she placed her dolls in line and spelt the back
lessons faithfully, with comfort in her knowledge of them. And the old
battered doll, dear to her heart, wore oftenest a medal of shining
tinfoil. For even Hattie, in one of Kitty's off weeks, had won the
medal.

It was late in the year when a rumour ran around the Second Reader room.
The trustees were coming that day to visit the school.

[Illustration: "Emmy Lou spelled steadily."]

Emmy Lou wondered what trustees were. She asked Hattie. Hattie
explained. "They are men, in black clothes. You daren't move in your
seat. They're something like ministers." Hattie knew everything.

"Will they come here, in our room?" asked Emmy Lou. It was terrible to
be at the front desk. Emmy Lou remembered the music man. He still
pointed his bow at her on Fridays.

"Of course," said Hattie; "comp'ny always comes to our room."

Which was true, for Dear Teacher's room was different. Dear Teacher's
room seemed always ready, and the Principal brought company to it
accordingly.

It was after recess they came--the Principal, the Trustee (there was
just one Trustee), and a visiting gentleman.

There was a hush as they filed in. Hattie was right. It was like
ministers. The Principal was in black, with a white tie. He always was.
And the Trustee was in black. He rubbed his hands and bowed to the
Second Reader Class, sitting very straight and awed. And the visiting