or read their numerical values, to save her little life. The Large Lady,
sorely perplexed within herself as to the proper course to be pursued,
in the sight of the fifty-nine other First Readers pointed a condemning
forefinger at the miserable little object standing in front of her
platform; and said, "You will stay after school, Emma Louise, that I
may examine further into your qualifications for this grade."

Now Emmy Lou had no idea what it meant--"examine further into your
qualifications for this grade." It might be the form of punishment in
vogue for the chastisement of the members of the First Reader. But "stay
after school" she did understand, and her heart sank, and her little
breast heaved.

It was past the noon recess. At last the bell for dismissal had rung.
The Large Lady, arms folded across her bombazine bosom, had faced the
class, and with awesome solemnity had already enunciated, "Attention,"
and sixty little people had sat up straight, when the door opened, and
a teacher from the floor above came in.

At her whispered confidence, the Large Lady left the room hastily,
while the strange teacher with a hurried "one-two-three, march out
quietly, children," turned, and followed her. And Emmy Lou, left sitting
at her desk, saw through gathering tears the line of First Readers wind
around the room and file out the door, the sound of their departing
footsteps along the bare corridors and down the echoing stairway coming
back like a knell to her sinking heart. Then class after class from
above marched past the door and on its clattering way, while voices from
outside, shrill with the joy of the release, came up through the open
windows in talk, in laughter, together with the patter of feet on the
bricks. Then as these familiar sounds grew fewer, fainter, farther away,
some belated footsteps went echoing through the building, a door slammed
somewhere--then--silence.

Emmy Lou waited. She wondered how long it would be. There was watermelon
at home for dinner; she had seen it borne in, a great, striped promise
of ripe juicy lusciousness, on the marketman's shoulder before she came
to school. And here a tear, long gathering, splashed down the pink cheek.

Still that awesome personage presiding over the fortunes of the First
Reader failed to return. Perhaps this was "the examination into--into--"
Emmy Lou could not remember what--to be left in this big, bare room with
the flies droning and humming in lazy circles