gittin' a pension because her first husband fit fer his
country. The Government shet off the pension jest as soon as she got
married ag'in, and then that blamed cuss took in washin' fer her. He
stayed away from home on wash-days, but as every day was wash-day with
her, he didn't see her by daylight fer three years. She died, an' now
he's back at Dave's ag'in. He calls Dave his husband-in-law."

It required all of Anderson's social and official diplomacy to forestall
an indignation meeting when it was announced that a stranger, Miss
Banks, had been selected to teach school No. 5. There was some talk of
mobbing the township trustee and Board of County Commissioners, but
Anderson secured the names of the more virulent talkers and threatened
to "jail" them for conspiracy.

"Why, Anderson," almost wailed George Ray, "that girl's from the city.
What does she know about grammar an' history an' all that? They don't
teach anything but French an' Italian in the cities an' you know it."

"Pshaw!" sniffed Anderson. "I hate grammar an' always did. I c'n talk
better Italian than grammar right now, an' I hope Miss Banks will teach
every child in the district how to talk French. You'd orter hear Rosalie
talk it. Besides, Rosie says she's a nice girl an'--an' needs the
job." Anderson lied bravely, but he swallowed twice in doing it.

[Illustration: "September brought elsie banks"]

September brought Elsie Banks to make life worth living for Rosalie. The
two girls were constantly together, talking over the old days and what
the new ones were to bring forth, especially for Miss Gray, who had
resumed wood carving as a temporary occupation. Miss Banks was more than
ever reluctant to discuss her own affairs, and Rosalie after a few
trials was tactful enough to respect her mute appeal. It is doubtful if
either of the girls mentioned the name of big, handsome Tom Reddon--Tom,
who had rowed in his college crew; but it is safe to say that both of
them thought of him more than once those long, soft, autumn
nights--nights when Tinkletown's beaux were fairly tumbling over
themselves in the effort to make New York life seem like a flimsy shadow
in comparison.

CHAPTER XI

Elsie Banks

Aderson Crow stood afar off--among the bleak, leafless trees of Badger's
Grove--and gazed thoughtfully, even earnestly, upon the little red
schoolhouse with its high brick chimney and snow-clad roof. A biting
January wind cut through his whiskers and w