Mrs.
Bradley, who never on any occasion paid her school bill, was the loudest in her complaints, saying that, "for all Tim never larnt a speck, and stood at the foot all summer long when Mary kept before, he'd got so sassy there was no living with him, and she wanted him out of the way." Widow Perkins, instead of being sorry was glad, for if Mary didn't teach, there was no reason why Sally Ann shouldn't.

"You'll never have a better chance," said she to her daughter, "there's no stifficut needed for a private school, and I'll clap on my things and run over to Mr Knight's before he gets off to his work." It was amusing to see Mr.Knight's look of astonishment, when the widow made her application.

Lydia, who chanced to be present, hastily retreated behind the pantry door, where with her apron over her mouth, she laughed heartily as she thought of a note, which the candidate for teaching had once sent them, and in which "i's" figured conspicuously, while her mother was "_polightly_ thanked for those yeast ?" Possibly Mr.Knight thought of the note, too, for he gave the widow no encouragement, and when on her way home she called for a moment at Mrs.Mason's, she "thanked her stars that Sally Ann wasn't obliged to keep school for a livin', for down below where she came from, teachers warn't fust cut!" One morning about a week after Mary's return, she announced her intention of visiting her mother's grave.

"I am accustomed to so much exercise," said she, "that I can easily walk three miles, and perhaps on my way home I shall get a ride." Mrs Mason made no objection, and Mary was soon on her way.

She was a rapid walker, and almost before she was aware of it, reached the village.