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Ers of five or six other pupils in her daughter's quarrel, and one
evening these ladies came in a body, and nobly and courageously demanded
that the 'bastard' should be expelled. It was impossible, outrageous,
monstrous, they declared, that their daughters should be compelled to
associate with a girl like me--a nameless girl, who humiliated the other
girls with her ill-gotten wealth. The superior tried to take my part;
but these ladies declared they would take their

Ith the mere millionaire, the mere owner kind of person, his Inventors
invent as little as they can, and his Hewers hew as softly as they dare.
This is called the Modern

Se on the edge of the illimitable cornfields, under trees pushed to a
top of the rolling prairie. George's father had settled there after the
Civil War, as so many other old soldiers had done; but they were Eastern
people, and Editha fancied touches of the East in the June rose
overhanging the front door, and the garden with early summer flowers
stretching from the gate of the paling fence. It was very low inside the
house, and so dim, with the closed blinds, that they could scarcely see
one another: Editha tall and black in her crapes which filled the air
with the smell of their dyes; her father standing decorously apart with
his hat on his forearm, as at funerals; a woman rested in a deep
arm-chair, and the woman who had let the strangers in stood behind the
chair. The seated woman turned her head round and up, and asked the
woman behind her chair: "_Who_ did you say?" Editha, if she had done
what she expected of herself, would have gone down on her knees at the
feet of the seated figure and said, "I am George's Editha," for answer.
But instead of her own voice she heard that other woman's voice, saying:
"Well, I don't know as I _did_ get the name just right. I guess I'll
have to make a little more light in here," and she went and pushed two
of the shutters ajar. Then Editha's father said, in his public
will-now-address-a-few-remarks tone: "My name is Balcom, ma'am--Junius
H. Balcom, of Balcom's Works, New York; my daughter--" "Oh!" the seated
woman broke in, with a powerful voice, the voice that always surprised
Editha from Gearson's slender frame. "Let me see you. Stand round where
the light can strike on your face," and Editha dumbly obeyed. "So,
you're Editha Balcom," she sighed. "Yes," Editha said, more like a
culprit than a comforter. "What did you come for?" Mrs. Gearson asked.
Editha's face quivered and her knees shook. "I came--because--because
George--" She could go no further. "Yes," the mother said, "he told me
he had asked you to come if 

Ll of tissue papers, and spent all the rest of the time between that and
supper in making a great kite for Teddy. He told the little boy that if
the next day were fine he would fly it for him, and that he might ask
some of the boys to come and help. Teddy had never seen such a large
kite before. When papa stood it up it was a great deal taller than the
little boy himself. The gold star that was pasted on where the sticks
crossed was just on a level with his eyes. So much seemed to have
happened that day that very soon after supper Teddy felt tired and was
quite willing to let mamma undress him and put him to bed. It felt very
good to lie down between the cool sheets again, and very soon Teddy's
eyelids began to blink heavily, and he was already drifting off into
that blissful feeling that comes just as one is going to sleep, when he
became dimly conscious of a faint sound of music. At first, half asleep
as he was, he thought that it must be little Cousin Harriett winding up
the music-box in the room, and then he suddenly started into
consciousness with the remembrance that he was alone and that it
couldn't be Cousin Harriett. She was at home; in bed perhaps, already.
The music seemed to sound quite near him, and it was very sweet and
soft. Now that he was awake it sounded more like the voice of the
singing garden than anything else. Suddenly a faint rosy light appeared
at the foot of the bed, and standing in it was the most beautiful lady
that Teddy had ever seen. She was quite tall,--as tall as his own
mother, and not even the fairy Rosine, or the Bird-maiden,--no, nor the
Princess Aureline herself, had been half as beautiful. But though the
lady was so lovely there was something very familiar about her face.
"Why, Counterpane Fairy!" cried Teddy. The Counterpane Fairy, for it was
indeed she, did not speak, but smiling at Teddy she moved softly and
smoothly, as though swept along by the music to the side of the bed,
and, still smiling, she bent above the little boy. As he looked up into
the face that leaned above him, it seemed to change in some strange way,
and now it was the old Italian woman who

!'" "He--he--he!" chuckled the chaplain in his feeble way, he and Mr
Jellaby coming to a stop, I was glad to see, close to where I stood.
"That was funny! Very, very funny!" "Nothing to what's coming," went on
Mr Jellaby, pleased that his efforts at comic narrative under such
difficulties had been so far successful, the chaplain not objecting to
the secular amusement from any conscientious scruples. "Well, as soon as
the ignorant chaw-bacon chap yelled out this, which naturally made
everyone who heard it laugh, although they put the mistake down to the
poor fellow's provincial pronunciation, he turns to the man who had
previously instructed him and asks in a proud sort of way, as if seeking
praise for his performance, `Say, how did I sing out that, chum?' "`Very
well,' replied the other, who, if he had advised him in good faith in
the first instance, on now seeing the result of his teaching was anxious
to take a rise out of the `stupid jolly,' as he thought him. `But,
chummy, you'll have to do different next time.' "`Oh!' exclaimed the
marine. `What shall I have to sing out, then?' "`You called "Live boy"
at Two Bells; and so it'll be "Dead boy" when it strikes Three Bells.
It's always turn and turn about aboard ship.' "`Yes, that's fair enough
and I thank you kindly,' answered the poor marine, sucking in the
other's gammon li