n;
when they looked east, they saw the maples, yellow and green, against
the farther woods, the autumn sky, swept by its bright winds. All
about them men and women rejoiced in the sunshine, told each other it
was a fine day, and looked for some cause of dispute.

"The races are going to begin," said Mrs. Grumble, and taking her
friend by the arm, made her way toward the track, where she could see
the horses going gravely up and down. "There is a good one," she said;
"see how he jumps about."

The drivers wheeled into line, and sped away with a rush; the band
played and the spectators shouted.

"Oh, my," said Miss Beal, "look there." And she pointed to where Mr.
Jeminy, close to the fence, was dancing up and down, waving his hat in
the air. "Why, the old fool," said Mrs. Grumble.

"At his age," echoed Miss Beal.

But it did not amuse Mrs. Grumble to hear anyone else find fault with
Mr. Jeminy. "He's enjoying himself," she said. "I don't know as how
we've any call to make remarks."

"I only said 'at his age,'" replied Miss Beal hastily. But when she
thought it over, it occurred to her that she was right, and Mrs.
Grumble was wrong. Without courage on her own account, she was able to
defend with energy the general opinion. "I said 'at his age,'" she
repeated more firmly.

Mrs. Grumble folded her hands, and assumed a forbidding expression. "I
expect," she said, "that Mr. Jeminy is old enough to do as he pleases."

"Maybe he is," answered the dressmaker, nettled by her friend's tone,
"maybe he is. And maybe there's others old enough to know what's right
in a man of his years, Mrs. Grumble."

"At any rate," remarked Mrs. Grumble, "it's not for you to say."

"It's not alone me is saying it," replied Miss Beal. "What's more,"
she added, "for all I don't like to repeat this to you, Mrs. Grumble,
there's many think Mr. Jeminy is too old to teach school any longer.
There's some would like to see a young woman at the schoolhouse."

"Oh," said Mrs. Grumble.

Miss Beal laid her hand on her friend's arm in a gesture at once
triumphant and consoling. "Never you mind," she said; "trouble comes
to all."

Mr. Jeminy went home from the fair with a light heart. He started
early, because he liked to walk; and he carried in his hand a bit of
lace for Mrs. Grumble. As he went down the road, beneath the turning
leaves, and through the shadows cast by the descending sun, he began to
sing, out of the fullness of hi