Jimmy, Lucy, and All | Page 8

his toes into the dirt, "quit a-plaguing me! My name's Henry Small and you know it!"
While Edith was busy taking their photographs, Kyzie thanked the urchins very pleasantly. They both gazed at her with admiration.
"See here," said Joe Rolfe, twitching off his hat again very respectfully, "Are you going to keep school in the schoolhouse? I wish you would!"
At this remarkable speech Jimmy and Edith fell to laughing; but Kyzie only blushed a little, and smiled. How very grown-up she must seem to Joe if he could think of her as a teacher! She was now a tall girl of fourteen, with a fine strong face and an earnest manner. She was beginning to tire of being classed among little girls, and it was delightful to find herself looked upon for the first time in her life as a young lady. But she only said:--
"Oh, no, Joe, people don't teach school in summer! Summer is vacation."
"Well, but they do sometimes," persisted Joe; "there was a girl kep' this school last summer. She called it 'vacation school.' But we didn't like her; she licked like fury."
"So she did," echoed Chicken Little, "licked and pulled ears. Kep' a stick on the desk."
And with these last words both the little boys took their leave, running up hill with great speed, as if they thought that standing for a picture had been a great waste of time.
"That Chicken boy is the biggest cry-baby," said Nate. "The boys like to plague him to see him cry. Joe Rolfe has some sense."
As the little party walked on, Miss Katharine turned her head more than once for another look at the schoolhouse.
"Wouldn't it be fun, Edy, to teach school in there and ring that 'lin-lan-lone bell' to call in the scholars? I'd make you study botany harder'n you ever did before."
"No, thank you, Miss Dunlee," replied Edith, courtesying. "You'll not get me to worrying over botany. I studied it a month once, but when I go up in the mountains I go to have a good time."
She pursed her pretty mouth as she spoke. Her sister Katharine was by far the best botanist in her class, and was always tearing up flowers in the most wasteful manner. Worse than that, she expected Edith to do the same thing and learn the hard names of the poor little withered pieces.
"You don't love flowers as well as I do, Kyzie, or you couldn't abuse them so!"
This is what she often said to her learned sister after Kyzie had made "a little preach" about the beauties of botany.
As they entered the hotel for luncheon, Kyzie was still thinking of the schoolhouse and the sweet-toned bell and the singular speech of Joe Rolfe, about wanting her for a teacher. What came of these thoughts you shall hear later on.
"Well, I declare, I forgot all about that zebra kitty," said Edith. "What will the knitting-woman think of such actions?"

IV
THE "KNITTING-WOMAN"
The "knitting-woman" met Edith at the dining-room door after luncheon, and said to her rather sharply:--
"Well, little girl, I thought you liked kittens?"
"I do, Mrs.--madam, I certainly do," replied Edith feeling guilty and ashamed. "But Nate Pollard took us to see the gold mine and the schoolhouse and we've just got back."
"Oh, that's it! I thought 'twas very still around here--I missed the noise of the boyoes.--You don't know what I mean by boyoes," she added, smiling. "I picked up the word in Ireland. I'm always picking up words. It means boys."
"I understand; oh, yes."
"Well, 'twas a little trouble to me, your not coming when I expected you; but you may come this afternoon. I'll be ready in ten minutes."
"Yes, madam, thank you."
Edith ran to her mother laughing. "Oh, mamma, she is the queerest woman! Calls boys boyoes! I must go to see her kitten whether I want to or not--in just ten minutes! I wish I could take Kyzie with me; would you dare?"
"Certainly not. Katharine has not been invited. And don't make a long call, Edith."
"No, mamma, I'll not even sit down. I'll just look at the zebra kitty and come right away."
Mrs. Dunlee smiled. If there were many pets at Number Five it was not likely that Edith would hasten away. "Remember, daughter, fifteen minutes is long enough for a call on an entire stranger. You don't wish to annoy Mrs. McQuilken; but if you should happen to forget, you'll hear this little bell tinkle, and that will remind you to leave."
Number Five was a very interesting room, about as full as it could hold of oddities from various countries, together with four cats, a canary, and a mocking-bird.
"If you had come this morning you would have seen Mag, that's the magpie," said Mrs. McQuilken. "She's off now, pretty creature. She likes to be picking a fuss with the chickens."
The