TRANSITION The change from the road to the school-room was not without many a struggle on Sandy's part.

The new life, the new customs, and the strange language, were baffling.
The day after the accident in the road, Mrs.Hollis had sent him to inquire how old Mrs.Nelson was, and he had returned with the astonishing report that she was sixty-one.
"But you didn't ask her age ?" cried Mrs.Hollis, horrified.
Sandy looked perplexed.

"I said what ye bid me," he declared.
Everything he did, in fact, seemed to be wrong; and everything he said, to bring a smile.

He confided many a woe to Aunt Melvy as he sat on the kitchen steps in the evenings.
"Hit's de green rubbin' off," she assured him sympathetically.

"De same ones dat laugh at you now will be takin' off dey hats to you some day." "Oh, it ain't the guyin' I mind," said Sandy; "it's me wooden head.
Them little shavers that can't see a hole in a ladder can beat me figurin'." "You jus' keep on axin' questions," advised Aunt Melvy.