Chapter II

by Mary Jane Holmes

　　GETTING UP A SUBSCRIPTION SCHOOL

　　Next morning before daybreak Mr. Wilmot was aroused from a sound slumberby what he thought was the worst noise he had ever heard. He instantlyconcluded that the house was on fire, and springing up, endeavored to findhis clothes, but in the deep darkness of the room such a thing wasimpossible; so he waited a while and tried to find out what the noisecould be.

　　At last it assumed something of a definite form, and he found it was thevoice of a man calling out in thunder-like tones, "Ho, Jebediah! Come outwith ye! Do you hear? Are you coming?"

　　Then followed a long catalogue of names, such as Sam, Joe, Jack, Jim, Ike,Jerry, Nehemiah, Ezariah, Judy, Tilda, Martha, Rachel, Luce and Phema, andat the end of each name was the same list of questions which had precededthat of Jebediah; and ever from the negro quarters came the same response,"Yes, marster, comin'."

　　By this time all the hens, geese, turkeys and dogs were wide awake andjoining their voices in the chorus, made the night, or rather the morning,hideous with their outcries. At last the noise subsided. Silence settledaround the house and Wilmot tried to compose himself to sleep. When heagain awoke the sun was shining brightly into his room. He arose anddressed himself, but felt in no hurry to see "his host," who had comehome, he was sure, and had given such tremendous demonstrations of thestrength of his lungs.

　　Mr. Wilmot finally descended to the sitting room, where the first objectwhich presented itself was a man who was certainly six and a half feethigh, and large in proportion. His face was dark and its natural color wasincreased by a beard of at least four weeks' growth! He had on his head anold slouched hat, from under which a few gray locks were visible. As soonas Wilmot appeared, the uncouth figure advanced toward him, and seizinghis hand, gave a grip, which, if continued long, would certainly havecrushed every bone! He began with--

　　"Well, so you are Mr. Wilmot from New York, hey? Of course a red-hotAbolitionist, but I don't care for that if you'll only keep your ideas toyourself and not try to preach your notions to me. I've heard of youbefore."

　　"Heard of me, sir?" said Mr. Wilmot in surprise.

　　"Yes, of you; and why not? Thar's many a man, not as good as you, judgingby your looks, has had a hearing in his day; but, however, I haint heardof you by the papers. As I was coming home last night I got along to oldman Edson's, and I seen him swarin' and tarin' round so says I, 'Ho, oldman, what's the row?' 'Oh,' says he, 'that you, Middleton? Nuff's the row.I've done let my best horse and nigger go off with a man from the freeStates, who said he's going to your house, and here 'tis after nine andJim not at home yet. Of course they've put out for the river.' 'Now,' saysI, 'don't be a fool, Edson; if that ar chap said he's goin' to my house,he's goin' thar, I'll bet all my land and niggers he's honest. LikelyJim's stopped somewhar. You come along with me and we'll find him.' So wejogged along on the pike till of a sudden we met Prince coming home allalone! This looked dark, but I told Edson to say nothin' and keep on; sowe came to Woodburn's fine house, and thar in the cabins we seen a brightlight, and heard the niggers larfin like five hundred, and thought wecould distinguish Jim Crow's voice; so we crept slyly up to the window andlooked in and, sure enough, there was Jim, telling a great yarn about theway you rode and how you got flung onto the gate. It seems he didn't halfhitch Prince, who got oneasy like, and started for home. Edson hollered toJim, who came out and told how he didn't go clear here with you, cause yousaid you could find the way, and he might go back. Then old man Edsonturned right round and said you were a likely man, and he hoped I'd do allI could for you. So that's the way I heard of you; and now welcome to oldKentuck, and welcome to my house, such as it is. It's mighty mean, though,as 'Tempest' says."

　　Here he turned to Julia, who had just entered the room. Then he went on:"Yes, Tempest raves and tars about the house and can hardly wait till I'mdead before she spends my money in fool fixin's. Devil of a cent she'llget though if she rides as high a horse as she generally does! I'll giveit all to 'Sunshine'; yes, I will. She's more gentle-like and comescoaxin' round me, and puttin' her soft arms round my old shaggy neck says,'Please, pa, if I'll learn to make a nice pudding or pie of Aunt Judy,will you buy us a new looking-glass or rocking chair?' And then 'tisn't inmy natur to refuse. Oh, yes; Sunshine is a darling," said he, laying hishand caressingly on Fanny's head, who just at that moment showed her sunnyface in the room.

　　During breakfast Mr. Middleton inquired more particularly into Mr.Wilmot's plans and wishes, and told him there was no doubt that he couldobtain a good school in that immediate neighborhood. "Your best way," saidhe, "will be to write a subscription paper. The people then see what for afist you write, and half the folks in Kentuck will judge you by that. Inthe paper you must tell what you know and what you ask to tell it toothers. I'll head the list with my two gals and give you a horse to goround with, and I'll bet Tempest, and Sunshine, too, that you'll get afull school afore night."

　　At the last part of this speech Julia curled her lips and tried to lookindignant, while Fanny laughingly said, "Pa, what makes you always betsister and me, just as though you could sell us like horses? It's badenough to bet and sell the blacks, I think."

　　"Ho, ho! So you've got some free State notions already, have you?" saidMr. Middleton. "Well, honey, you're more'n half right, I reckon." Sosaying, he for the fourth time passed up his coffee cup.

　　Breakfast being over, he took his young friend to the stable and bade himselect for his own use any horse he chose. Mr. Wilmot declined, saying hewas not much accustomed to horses; he preferred that Mr. Middleton shouldchoose any horse he pleased.

　　"Very well," said Mr. Middleton; "from the accounts I have heard of yourhorsemanship it may be improved; so I reckon I'll not give you a veryskeary horse to begin with. Thar's Aleck'll just suit you. He'll not throwyou on the gate, for he doesn't trot as fast as a black ant can walk!"

　　Accordingly Aleck was saddled and bridled and Mr. Wilmot was soon mountedand, with his subscription paper in his pocket, was riding off aftersubscribers. He was very successful; and when at night he turned his facehomeward, he had the names of fifteen scholars and the partial promise offive more.

　　"Well, my boy, what luck?" said Mr. Middleton, as Wilmot entered thesitting room that evening.

　　"Very good success," returned Mr. Wilmot; "I am sure of fifteen scholarsand have a promise for five more."

　　"Yes, pretty good," said Mr. Middleton; "fifteen sartin, and fiveunsartin. Who are the unsartin ones?--old Thornton's?"

　　Mr. Wilmot replied that he believed it was a Mr. Thornton who hadhesitated about signing.

　　"He'll sign," said Mr. Middleton. "I's thar after you was, and he told meyou might put down five for him. I pay for two on 'em. He lives on mypremises; and if he doesn't pay up for t'other three, why, he'll jog,that's all."

　　Mr. Wilmot said he hoped no one would send to school against their wishes.

　　"Lord, no," rejoined Mr. Middleton; "old Thornton wants to send badenough, only he's stingy like. Let me see your paper, boy."

　　Mr. Wilmot handed him the paper, and he went on: "Thar's ten scholars ateight dollars--that makes eighty; then thar's five at eleven dollars, andfifty-five and eighty makes a hundred and thirty-five; then thar's fivemore at fifteen dollars; five times fifteen; five times five istwenty-five--seventy-five dollars;--seventy-five and a hundred andthirty-five;--five and five is ten, one to seven is eight, eight and threeis eleven--two hundred and ten dollars! Why, quite a heap! Of course you'vegot clothes enough to last a spell, so you can put two hundred out atinterest. I'll take it and give you ten per cent."

　　Mr. Wilmot smiled at seeing his money so carefully disposed of before itwas earned, but he merely said, "There's my board to be deducted."

　　"Your what?" asked Mr. Middleton.

　　"My board, sir. I have no other means of paying it. I find I can getboarded for a dollar and a half a week."

　　"The deuce you can," said Mr. Middleton. "Who'll board you for that?"

　　Mr. Wilmot gave the name of the gentleman, to which Mr. Middleton replied,"I want to know if he will board you so very cheap!"

　　"Why, yes. Do you think I should pay more?"

　　"Pay more!" replied Middleton. "Don't be a fool! Why, here's this infernalold shell of a house wants filling up, and thar's heaps of horses andniggers lounging round with nothing to do; then I've plenty of potatoes,bacon and corn meal--and such fare as we have you're welcome to, without adollar and a half, or even a cent and a half."

　　Mr. Wilmot remonstrated at receiving so much at Mr. Middleton's hands, butthat good man put an end to all further argument by saying, "Do let me actas I like. You see, I've taken a liking to you, and because I see youtrying to help yourself, I am willing to try and help you. They say, orTempest says they say, I'm a rough old bear, and maybe I am; but I'm notall bad; it's a streak o' fat and a streak o' lean; and if I want to doyou a kindness, pray let me."

　　So it was settled that Mr. Wilmot should remain in Mr. Middleton's familyduring the winter. To Julia this arrangement gave secret satisfaction. Shehad from the first liked Mr. Wilmot, and the idea of having him near herall the time was perfectly delightful. She resolved to gain his goodopinion, cost what it would. To do this, she knew she must appear to beamiable, and that she determined to do--before him at least. She had alsoseen enough of him to know that he set a great value upon talent, and sheresolved to surprise him with her superior scholarship and ability tolearn. She, however, felt some misgivings lest Fanny should rival her inhis esteem; but she hoped by negro bribery and various little artifices todeter him from thinking too highly of her sister.

　　The following Monday, Mr. Wilmot repaired to his schoolroom, where hefound assembled all his pupils. It was comparatively easy to arrange theminto classes and ere the close of the day the school was pretty generallyorganized. Weeks passed on and each day the "Yankee schoolmaster" gainedin the love of his scholars, and one of them, at least, gained in theaffections of the teacher. Julia had adhered to her resolution ofappearing amiable and of surprising Mr. Wilmot with her wonderful powersof learning. This last she did to perfection. No lesson was so long but itwas readily learned and its substance admirably told in words of her own.She preferred reciting alone and she so far outstripped the others in thelength of her lessons, it seemed necessary that she should do so. Mr.Wilmot often wondered at her marvelous capacity for learning so much in soshort a space of time, for she never took home her books at night, and shesaid she had plenty of time for her lessons during school hours.

　　With Fanny it was just the reverse. She got her lessons at home and playedall day at school! Sometimes a reprimand from Mr. Wilmot would bring thetears into her eyes and she would wonder why it was she could not behaveand make Mr. Wilmot like her as well as he did Julia. Then she wouldresolve not to make any more faces at that booby, Bill Jeffrey, for thegirls to laugh at, nor to draw any more pictures on her slate of the DameSobriety, as she called Julia, and lastly, not to pin any more chalk ragson the boys' coats. But she was a dear lover of fun and her resolutionswere soon for gotten. Her lessons, however, were generally well-learned,and well recited; but she could not compete with Julia, neither did shewish to. She often wondered how her sister could learn so long lessons,and, secretly, she had her own suspicions on the subject, but chose tokeep them to herself.

　　Meantime the winter was passing rapidly and, to Mr. Wilmot, very agreeablyaway. He liked his boarding place much and one of its inmates had almost,without his knowledge, wound herself strongly around his heart. For a timehe struggled against it, for his first acquaintance with Julia had notleft a very favorable impression on his mind. But since that night she hadbeen perfectly pleasant before him and had given out but one demonstrationof her passionate temper.

　　This was one evening at the supper table. Zuba, a mulatto girl, brought insome preserves and, in passing them, very carelessly spilled them uponJulia's new blue merino. In the anger of the moment Mr. Wilmot and hisgood opinion were forgotten. Springing up, she gave the girl a blow whichsent her half across the room and caused her to drop the dish, which wasbroken in twenty pieces. At the same time she exclaimed in a loud, angrytone, "Devil take you, Zube!" The loss of the dish elicited a series ofoaths from Mr. Middleton, who called his daughter such names as "lucifermatch," "volcano," "powder mill," and so forth.

　　For her father's swearing Julia cared nothing, but it was the sorrowful,disappointed expression of Mr. Wilmot's face which cooled her down.Particularly did she wish to recall what she had done when she saw thatFanny also had received some of the preserves on her merino; but insteadof raging like a fury, she arose and quietly wiped it off, and then burstinto a loud laugh, which she afterward told her mother was occasioned bythe mournful look which Mr. Wilmot's face assumed when he saw that Julia'stemper was not dead, but merely covered up with ashes.

　　From this remark of Fanny's the reader will understand that she was wellaware of the part her sister was playing. And she was perfectly satisfiedthat it should be so, for by this means she occasionally got a pleasantword from Julia. She, however, often wished that Mr. Wilmot could beconstantly with her sister, for his presence in the house did not preventher from expending her wrath upon both Fanny and the blacks.

　　For some days after the affair of the preserves, Mr. Wilmot was somewhatcool in his manner toward Julia, who had discernment enough to attributethe change to the right cause. Earnestly did she desire to win back hisesteem, and she accordingly cast about for some method by which she couldundo what she had done. She could think of no way except to acknowledgeher error to Mr. Wilmot and promise to do better in the future. So oneevening when her father, mother and Fanny were absent, and she was alonewith him, she adroitly led the conversation to the circumstance of herspoiled merino. She acknowledged that it was very unamiable and unladyliketo manifest such passionate feelings, said she knew she had a quicktemper, but she tried hard to govern it; and if Mr. Wilmot would, as herteacher and friend, aid her by his advice and influence, she was sure shewould in time succeed. So nicely did she manage each part of herconfession that Mr. Wilmot was thoroughly deceived. He believed herperfectly sincere, and greatly admired what he thought to be her frank,confiding disposition.

　　From that time she was dearer to him than ever and Julia, again sure ofhis esteem, placed a double guard upon her temper, and in his presence wasthe very "pink" of amiability! Affairs were gliding smoothly on, when thefamily received a visit from a gentleman, whom Julia would rather not haveseen. This was Mr. Miller, whom we have mentioned as having taught in thatneighborhood the winter before. Mr. Wilmot found him in the sitting roomone night, on his return from school. When the young men were introducedthey regarded each other a moment in silence, then their hands werecordially extended, and the words, "Richard Wilmot," "Joseph Miller," weresimultaneously uttered.

　　It seems that, years before, they had been roommates and warmly attachedfriends in the Academy of Canandaigua, New York, and now, after the lapseof ten years, they met for the first time far off in Kentucky. A longconversation followed, relative to what had occurred to each since thebright June morning when they parted with so much regret in the oldacademic halls of Canandaigua.

　　At length Mr. Miller said: "Richard, what has become of that sister ofyours, of whose marvelous beauty you used to tell us boys such bigstories?"

　　"My sister Kate," said Mr. Wilmot, "is at present at school in New Haven."

　　"And is she still as beautiful as you used to try to make us think shewas?" asked Mr. Miller.

　　"I will show you her likeness," returned Wilmot, "and you can judge foryourself."

　　So saying, he drew from his pocket a richly cased daguerreotype, andhanded it to Mr. Miller. It was a face of uncommon beauty which met Mr.Miller's eye, and he gazed enraptured on the surpassing loveliness of thepicture. At last he passed it to Fanny, who was eagerly waiting for it,and then turning to Wilmot, he said, "Yes, Richard, she has the handsomestface I ever saw."

　　"And the handsomest face I ever saw with one exception," said Mr. Wilmot,glancing admiringly toward Julia. Mr. Miller followed the direction of hiseyes and as he saw the brilliant beauty of Julia, he sighed for fear hisyoung friend might or had already become entangled in her dark meshes.

　　Just then Fanny exclaimed, "Oh, how handsome; look mother--Julia, isn't sheperfectly beautiful!" And then she added, "But, Mr. Wilmot, is she as goodas she is beautiful?"

　　"How absurd," said Julia hastily; "just as though one cannot be handsomeand good too."

　　"I didn't say they couldn't, sister," said Fanny; "but I thought--yes, I'msure she looks a little selfish!"

　　"Upon my word you're very polite," said Julia. "Mr. Wilmot will doubtlessfeel complimented by what you say of his sister."

　　"Never mind, Fanny," said Mr. Wilmot; "never mind; you are more of aphysiognomist than I thought you were, for Kate's great fault is being tooselfish; but she will overcome that in time, I think."

　　"Oh, I am sure so," quickly rejoined Fanny, regretting her words andanxious to do away with any unfavorable impression she might have made. Soshe went up to Mr. Wilmot and laying her hand on his shoulder, said, "I amsorry if I said anything bad of your sister. She is very beautiful and Ithink I should love her very much. Do you think she will ever come toKentucky?"

　　"I hardly think she will," said Mr. Wilmot; "but I think you would likeher, and I am sure she would love you. I often write to her about my twoKentucky sisters."

　　"Oh, do you," said Fanny, clapping her white, dimpled hands, "do youreally call us both sisters? And do you tell her how much handsomer Juliais than I am, and how much more she knows?"

　　"And how much more does she know?" said Mr. Miller, who was alwaysinterested in whatever Fanny said.

　　"Oh, she knows a 'heap' more than I do," said Fanny, "I fear I haven'timproved much since you left, for Mr. Wilmot is so very indulgent that henever scolds when my lessons are but half-learned, but consoles himself, Isuppose, with Julia's great long yarns."

　　"And are Julia's lessons so very long?" asked Mr. Miller.

　　"Yes, sir," replied Fanny. "It is the wonder of all the girls how shemanages to commit so much to memory in so short a time, for she neverbrings home her books and she spends two-thirds of her time, during schoolhours, in writing something on a sheet of foolscap. We girls have our ownsuspicions about that paper, for when her lesson is very hard we noticethat she is unusually confined to her notes."

　　Here Julia angrily exclaimed, "Fanny, what do you mean? Do you intend toinsinuate that I write my lesson down and then read it?"

　　"Fire and fury," said Mr. Middleton, who had been an attentive listener,"what's all this about? Tempest, do you write down your task? Good reasonwhy you don't bring home your books. Speak, girl, quick--are you guilty ofsuch meanness?"

　　Julia burst into tears, and said: "No, father, I am not; and I think ittoo bad that I should be suspected of such a thing, when I am trying to doas well as I can."

　　"I think so too," said Mr. Wilmot, whose sympathies were all with Julia.

　　Mr. Miller thought otherwise, but he said nothing. Julia had never been afavorite with him. He understood her character perfectly well and he feltgrieved that his friend should be so deceived in her. Perhaps Julia readsomething of what was passing in his mind; for she felt very uneasy forfear he might tell Mr. Wilmot something unfavorable of her. Nor was shemistaken in her conjectures, for after the young men had retired for thenight, their conversation naturally enough turned upon the family and thetwo girls, both of whom Mr. Wilmot spoke of in the highest terms. Mr.Miller agreed with him as long as his remarks were confined to Fanny, butwhen he came to speak of Julia, and of her superior beauty, intellect andagreeable manners, he ventured to disagree with him.

　　Said he, "As to Julia's beauty, there can be but one opinion, for she isvery handsome; but the interior of the casket does not correspond with theexterior; she is as false as fair. Then, as to her intellect, I neverthought it greatly superior to Fanny's. To be sure, she has a way ofshowing off all she does know, while Fanny is more retiring."

　　Here Mr. Wilmot spoke of the faculty she possessed for learning so longlessons. "Even your favorite Fanny," said he, "admitted that."

　　"True," returned Mr. Miller, "but have you forgotten the notes? Do you notthink there may be something in that?"

　　"Is it possible," said Mr. Wilmot, rather warmly, "is it possible youthink the high-souled Julia capable of such meanness? You do not know heras well as I do, if you think she would stoop to such deception. You shallgo to school with me tomorrow, and then you can see for yourself."

　　"Yes, I will do so," said Mr. Miller, and then as he saw Mr. Wilmot seemedsomewhat excited, he changed the conversation, which had been heard byother ears. Adjoining the room of Mr. Wilmot was a long dark closet, thedoor of which opened into the apartment of Julia and Fanny. This closetwas used for a kind of lumber room, in which were stored promiscuously oldbarrels, trunks, hats, boots and so forth. It originally had a window, butthe glass had long been broken and its place supplied by a large board,which failed to keep out the wind and rain, so that during the winterseason the closet was a cold, cheerless place.

　　But on the night of which we were speaking, it contained a novel piece oflumber. Crouched behind an old barrel sat Julia, listening eagerly to theconversation between her teacher and Mr. Miller. When it ceased she arosefrom her dark hiding place and muttered to herself: "So you'll see, willyou? You old torment! I wish the Old Scratch had got you before you evercame here. If I dared to I'd--but no, I wouldn't do that, bad as I am.However, I'll cheat you for once, you hateful limb! But what shall I do?"

　　She indeed was in a dilemma; but she had often boasted that she never yetwas in so straitened a spot that she could not devise some means ofextricating herself, and she relied on the Master she served to aid her inthis difficulty. She never brought her books home and as the reader willere this have surmised, she was in the daily habit of writing a sketch ofher lesson on foolscap, and then reading it off. When school firstcommenced she had asked the privilege of sitting in her seat whilereciting and by this means she could hold the paper under her desk andthus avoid Mr. Wilmot's suspicion. Her lessons for the next day wereunusually long and hard, and as Mr. Miller would be present, she dared notresort to her usual artifice, particularly after what had been said abouther "notes." She knew she never could learn all that long lesson in schoolhours, neither would she fail of having it for anything. What could shedo? For some time she sat by the dying embers, with her dark face buriedin her hands, revolving in her mind the best scheme by which to outwit Mr.Miller.

　　At last she rose up and a malicious smile of exultation passed over herfeatures. She looked at the clock and saw it was already half-past ten,and then stealing softly to the bedside where Fanny lay quietly sleeping,she bent down and assured herself that her sister really was unconsciousof her movements. She then hastily threw on her overshoes, cloak and hoodand stealing noiselessly down the stairs, was soon in the open air alonein the darkness of the night. Just as she shut the door of the house, thewatch dog, Tiger, came bounding furiously toward her with an angry growl.She silenced the fierce animal by saying, "Down, Tiger--poor Tige--don't youknow me?" After quieting the dog, she proceeded on her strange errand,which was to obtain her books from the schoolhouse, which was more thanhalf a mile distant.

　　The mud, which was very deep, was not more than half frozen, and at eachstep she sank into a mixture of mud, snow and ice. Still she keptfearlessly on, till at last she found herself in the midst of the thickwoods. Here her courage somewhat failed her, for she called to mind allthe stories she had ever heard of runaways, who were said to walk abroadat this dark hour of the night. Once she thought she saw the giant form ofa negro standing in her path, but it proved to be a black stump, and shewas about laughing at her fears, when her ear detected the sound of alight, rapid tread coming toward her. Almost paralyzed with terror, shestood perfectly still and listened for the sound to be repeated, but allwas silent, and again she went on her way, and soon reached the schoolhouse.

　　But here a new difficulty presented itself. The house was locked and thekey was in Mr. Wilmot's pocket; but the old adage, "where there's a will,there's a way," came into her mind, so she felt around on the half frozenground till she found a long rail, which she placed against a window; thenclimbing up, she raised the sash, and in a moment was in the schoolroom.The atmosphere of the room was still comfortable and she stopped for amoment at the stove to warm her benumbed fingers, then groping her way toher desk, she easily found her books and made her way out of the house inthe same manner that she had entered.

　　Just as she reached the ground a large, dark object sprang toward her andtwo glittering eyes looked up into her face. She uttered a loud shriek andwas answered by a low whine, which she instantly recognized as belongingto Tiger. "Why, Tiger," she exclaimed, "how you frightened me! What didyou follow me for?" It seems Tiger had thought there must be somethingwrong, or his mistress would not be out at this unreasonable hour, so hehad followed on after her. She was noways displeased at this, for sheliked not the idea of again going alone through the wood, but with Tigerfor a companion she went fearlessly on and reached home just an hour aftershe had left it.

　　On entering her room she struck a light and then tried to warm her chilledlimbs over a few faint coals which still glimmered on the hearth; butthere was no wood in the room and she dared not go for any, so she satdown with her cloak still around her, and for four long hours studied asshe had never done before in all her life. At the end of that time herlessons were very nearly learned, and sick with cold and fatigue, shethrew aside her books and prepared for bed.

　　Her movements awoke Fanny, who, on seeing her sister up at that late hourof the night, started with surprise, and exclaimed, "What is it, Julia?What is the matter?" Julia immediately extinguished the light, lest hersister should discover the books and then said, "Nothing, Fanny, nothing;only I have the toothache, and I got up for the camphor, but I cannot findthe bottle anywhere."

　　"The camphor is downstairs," said Fanny, "but I will go for it if you wishme to. Does your tooth ache very much?"

　　"Yes, rather," said Julia, and her kind-hearted sister arose and found herway in the dark downstairs to her mother's room.

　　"What in thunder's come now?" called out Mr. Middleton. "'Pears likesomebody's been tousing round the house all night."

　　"It's only I, father," said Fanny. "Julia has the toothache, and I amafter the camphor bottle."

　　"Oh, it's you, Sunshine, is it? The camphire's on the mantletry. Bekeerful and not break it, honey."

　　While Fanny was after the camphor, Julia arose, and seizing her books,threw them hastily into her bureau drawer. She then sprang back into bedand when Fanny came in she was making a very appropriate moaning onaccount of her aching tooth!

　　"How cold you are, sister," said Fanny; "let me warm my shawl and put itaround you."

　　"You can't warm it, for their is neither fire nor wood," said Julia; "andbesides, my tooth is much better now."

　　So Fanny lay down by her sister, and the two, purity and guilt, were soonfast asleep, side by side, and the angel of innocence spread his broadwing protectingly over the yellow locks of the one, while a serpent laycoiled in the dark tresses of the other.