o couldn't be good at home, but she says I mean Reform School. I guess
she'll get to Normal School all right. I told her Gail would help her
with her lessons when they got too hard for her alone, 'cause Gail's to
go to the University right away; but I didn't think Faith would be much
good at that, as long's she isn't quite through High School herself. I
told her Faith could make lovely fancy things to eat and would like
awfully well to teach her when she had any spare time, and Gussie says
she'll be tickled to learn, 'cause she is only a plain cook and not up
on frills yet."

Faith and the President exchanged comical glances across the table, but
Peace was too much interested in her cake and fruit to notice what was
going on around her, and blissfully continued, "We went down in the
basement, too, and saw that boy from Benton's. His name is Caspar Dodds.
His father is dead--what a lot of dead folks there are in this
world!--and he has to earn money to take care of his mother and two
sisters. She does plain sewing, and I promised you'd hire her sometimes,
grandma. They live on Sixteenth Street, just at the corner where the
Pendennis car turns off from the bridge. He told me how to get there.
He's going to night-school so's he can learn the education he's missing
daytimes, and says he gets along well in everything but algebra. I guess
that's how he came to speak to Hope about it. I told him she'd be glad
to help him with 'xamples he couldn't do, 'cause she was Professor
Watson's star scholar in that. Gussie told _us_ about the kittens, too,
so I knew Hope would be down to find them, and that way she'd see
Caspar. She must have come along right after us or she wouldn't have
found him, 'cause he was 'most ready to go when we went out to the barn.

"Jud had just brought in the horses from exercising them, and I told him
I guessed likely we'd help him at that job after this, for all of us
like to ride. At first he wasn't going to let us see the horses and we
had to do a lot of talking 'fore he'd give in. He used awful poor
grammar, and when he told us the stable wasn't the place for little
girls and that we better go in the house and learn to cook like Gussie,
I asked him why he didn't get some books and learn to speak right like
Gussie, instead of sitting on an old box and reading yellow
newspapers--well, it _was_ yellow, just as yellow and musty and old as
it could be! And he's too nice looking to be nothing but a horseman