up
rose-gardens were one of the common necessities of life; and more
especially when you are tired almost to the crying-point, and have all
the week's big sisters back of it dragging on you, and all its little
sisters to come worrying at you, and--time not up till six.

But the Liberry Teacher went blindly on straightening shelves nearly as
fast as the children could muss them up, and thinking about that
rose-garden she wanted, with files of masseuses and manicures and French
maids and messenger-boys with boxes banked soothingly behind every bush.
And the thought became too beautiful to dally with.

"I'd marry _anything_ that would give me a rose-garden!" reiterated the
Liberry Teacher passionately to the Destinies, who are rather catty
ladies, and apt to catch up unguarded remarks you make. "_Anything_--so
long as it was a gentleman--and he didn't scold me--and--and--I didn't
have to associate with him!" her New England maidenliness added in
haste.

Then, for the librarian who cannot laugh, like the one who reads, is
supposed in library circles to be lost, Phyllis shook herself and
laughed at herself a little, bravely. Then she collected the most
uproarious of her flock around her and began telling them stories out of
the "Merry Adventures of Robin Hood." It would keep the children quiet,
and her thoughts, too. She put rose-gardens, not to say manicurists and
husbands, severely out of her head. But you can't play fast and loose
with the Destinies that way.

"Done!" they had replied quietly to her last schedule of requirements.
"We'll send our messenger over right away." It was not their fault that
the Liberry Teacher could not hear them.

II

He was gray-haired, pink-cheeked, curvingly side-whiskered and
immaculately gray-clad; and he did not look in the least like a
messenger of Fate.

The Liberry Teacher was at a highly keyed part of her narrative, and
even the most fidgety children were tense and open-mouthed.

"'And where art thou now?' cried the Stranger to Robin Hood. And Robin
roared with laughter. 'Oh, in the flood, and floating down the stream
with all the little fishes,' said he--" she was relating breathlessly.

"_Tea_-cher!" hissed Isaac Rabinowitz, snapping his fingers at her at
this exciting point. "Teacher! There's a guy wants to speak to you!"

"Aw, shut-_tup_!" chorused his indignant little schoolmates. "Can't you
see that Teacher's tellin' a story? Go chase yerself! Go do a tango