not this
time! I've thunk of it now. Here goes!

"'Between the dark and the daylight
When the night is beginning to lower,
Comes a pause in the day's occupation,
That is known as the Children's Hour.'"

Verse after verse she repeated glibly, racing so rapidly that the words
fairly tumbled out of her mouth. Suddenly the dreadful thought came to
her. She had begun the wrong poem! Her voice faltered; she turned
pleading, glassy eyes toward the teacher; and Miss Peyton,
misunderstanding the cause of her hesitation, again prompted, "'They
climb--'"

Peace was hopelessly lost.

"'They climb up onto the target,'"

She recited in feverish tones:

"'O'er my arms and the back of my hair;
If I try to e-scrape, they surround me;
They scream to me everywhere,'"

Someone tittered; the ripple of mirth broke into a peal of laughter; and
with a despairing sob, Peace cried, "Oh, teacher, I've got the
stage-_strike_! I can't say another word!" And out of the room she
rushed like a wounded bird.

Usually Elizabeth was her comforter, but this day some blind instinct
led her to take refuge in the Enchanted Garden, and she sobbed out her
sorrow and humiliation in the skirts of her beloved Lilac Lady.

Peace in tears was a new sight for the invalid, and she was alarmed at
the wild tempest of grief. But the small philosopher could not be
unhappy long, and after a few moments the tears ceased, the storm was
spent, a flushed, swollen face peeped up at the anxious eyes above her,
and with a familiar, queer little grimace, she giggled, "I made 'em all
laugh, anyway, and they did look awful solemn and _funerally_ lined up
there against the wall. But I s'pose teacher won't let me pass now, and
I'll have to take this term all over again."

"Tell me about it," said the lame girl gently, stroking the damp curls
on the round, brown head in her lap.

So Peace faithfully recounted the day's events to the amusement and
indignation of her lone audience; but when she had finished, she sighed
dolefully. "The worst of it is, I've got to go back to school tomorrow
for my books and dismissal card. Oh, mercy, yes! And Miss Peyton has
got my Longfellow. I don't b'lieve I can ever ask her for it, even if
it is Saint John's."

"Oh, yes, you can," assured the Lilac Lady. "By the time tomorrow comes,
the teacher will have forgotten all about the mistakes of today."

"It's very plain that you don't know Miss Peyt