nothin' extry beyond just what's set aside fer
schools."

Again the squeaky voice from behind the stove made itself heard. "That's
the time, Josiah, when the taown can't afford it that cap'talists, such as
you say you be, oughter step right inter the gap an' help aout."

"I've got a arrant daown ter the mill," remarked the offended
"_see_lectman," "an' I'm goin' right along ter 'tend to it, but I'll say
in leavin', thet I won't waste my breath a talkin' to a person with a mind
so narrer as ter s'pose fer a moment that private puss-strings hangs aout
fer every person who feels like it ter pull. I'm public sperited, every
one knows that, but I don't help support no institootion er larnin when I
got the hull er my edication at a deestrict school," and in intense
disgust he left the store followed by an irritating chuckle which,
although it came from behind the rusty old stove, reached the ears of
Boyden as he stamped down the rickety steps of the store and stalked
majestically across the square and up the road.

He was sure of a sympathetic listener at the mill, for it was a well worn
saying in the village that the miller "agreed with everyone."

The river which kept his mill running, wound its way through the next
village, where another grist mill was humming, and Martin Meers was far
too shrewd to permit himself to express a difference of opinion from that
held by a good customer, who in his wrath might take his grist to the
rival mill to be ground.

Pondering over the "narrer minds" of those with whom he had been
conversing, Josiah Boyden tramped along the dusty road, becoming more
incensed with every step, as he thought of the individual who had presumed
to suggest that he might contribute toward the school fund, and still the
gossip at the store progressed, unhindered by the departure of the
"_see_lectman."

"My Reuben," remarked Mr. Jenks, "made more progress in his studies last
season than he ever made before in two winters' work, and I feel that the
teacher deserves a deal of thanks fer stirring up such an interest. I
don't have the sort er feelin' that Boyden has. I stand ready and willin'
ter put my hand in my pocket ter help aout expenses, ef some others will
'gree ter chip in."

"But there's a 'scuse fer Boyden," chuckled Nate Burnham, the old fellow
behind the stove, as he relighted his pipe, and puffed a few times to
determine if it intended to burn. "There's a sort er 'scuse fer Boyden,"
he repeated,