struggles with belligerent parts of
speech, and more than once suffered the shell-shock of despair. But his
watchword now, as then, was, "Up and at 'em!" And before long he had the
satisfaction of seeing his enemy gradually giving way.

Having taken his small public into his confidence in regard to his
belated ambition to get an education, he was surprised to find how ready
everybody was to help him. Mr. Chester not only assisted him with his
mathematics, but insisted upon taking him to hear good music, in the vain
effort to reclaim an ear hopelessly attuned to jazz and rag-time. Mr.
Martel devoted Sunday afternoons to making him read aloud from the
classics, with great attention to precise enunciation. Miss Isobel still
looked after his moral welfare, and Miss Enid continued to devote herself
to his social improvement. But it remained for Madam Bartlett to render
him the service of which he was most in need. Whenever the bubble of his
self-esteem threatened to carry him away, she always took pains to
puncture it.

"Don't let them make a fool of you, Graham," she said one day, as she
leaned heavily upon his arm in a painful effort to walk without her
crutches--an experiment that she allowed neither one of her daughters to
share, as they invariably limped with her and got frightened when she
stumbled. "They all treat you like a puppy that has learned to walk on
its hind legs. Remember that you belong on your hind legs. You are only
doing what most boys in your position do in their teens. If you were as
smart as they claim, you would have got an education long ago. But young
people these days have no sense! Just look at my granddaughter, for
instance."

There being no direction in which he was more eager to look, Quin gave
her his undivided attention.

"I've spent thousands of dollars on that girl's education," Madam
continued, "and what do you suppose she elected to specialize in?
'Expression'! In my day they called it elocution. When a girl was too
dumb to learn anything else, the teacher got money out of her parents by
teaching her to swing her arms around her hear and say, 'Curfew Shall Not
Ring To-night.' Now they all want to write poetry, or play the flute, or
go on the stage, or some other fool thing like that."

"What about those that want to go on a farm? That's sensible enough for
you." Quin couldn't resist the thrust on behalf of Mr. Ranny.

"It's sensible for a sensible person," Madam said crossly. "It'