it in no time, but I never could
learn anything for some people. Just the sight of them knocks everything
I know clean out of my head."

Longfellow slammed shut with a terrific bang, and Miss Peyton rose from
her chair, choking with indignation. "You may go now, Peace
Greenfield," she said icily, "but that poem must be perfect by tomorrow
afternoon, remember."

So with a heavy heart Peace trudged home and took up her struggle once
more in the hammock; but was at last rewarded by being able to say every
line perfectly and without much hesitation. Elizabeth and her spouse
both heard her repeat it many times that evening and again the next
morning, and sent her on her way rejoicing to think the task was
conquered.

But when it came to the afternoon's rehearsal, poor Peace could only
stare at the ceiling, and open and shut her lips in agony, waiting for
the words which would not come, while Miss Peyton impatiently tapped the
floor with her slippered toe and frowned angrily at the miserable
figure. Finally Peace blurted out, "P'raps if you'd go out of the room,
I could say it all right."

"You will say it all right with me in the room!" retorted the woman
grimly.

"Then s'posing you look out of the window and quit staring so hard at
me. All I can think of is that scowl, and it doesn't help a bit."

The dazed teacher shifted her gaze, and Peace slowly began, "'Come to
me, O ye children!'" speaking very distinctly and with more expression
than Miss Peyton had thought possible.

"There!" exclaimed the woman, much mollified, when the child had
finished. "I knew you could say it if you wanted to. Now try it again."

So with the teacher staring out of the window, and Peace gazing at the
ceiling, the poem was recited without a flaw six times in succession,
and she was finally excused to put in some more practice at home.

Elizabeth thought the day was won, but poor Peace took little comfort in
the knowledge that she had acquitted herself creditably at the last
rehearsal. "It would be different if that was tomorrow afternoon," she
sighed. "But I just know she'll look at me when I get up to speak, and
with her eyes boring holes through me, I'll be sure to forget some part
of it. None of my other teachers were like her a bit. Miss Truesdale and
Miss Olney and Miss Allen all liked children; but I don't b'lieve Miss
Peyton does. There's lots of the scholars that she ain't going to let
pass, and the only reason they didn't ha