Presently a small seamstress asked for instruction as to the proper method of putting the strips together. The fair face of the young teacher became clouded for a moment, and she was unmistakably confused. Her wavering, dubious glance fell upon Amarilly sitting tense and upright as she made quick, forceful, and effective stabs with her needle, biting her thread vigorously and resonantly. The stitches were microscopic and even; the strips symmetrically and neatly joined. The teacher's face cleared as she saw and seized her avenue of escape. "You may all," she directed, "look at Amarilly's work and sew the strips just as she does. Hers are perfect." [Illustration: "You may all," she directed, "look at Amarilly's work."] Amarilly's wan little face brightened, and she proceeded to show the children how to sew, bringing the same ease and effectiveness into her tutoring that she displayed when instructing her brothers and Cory. The sewing lesson continued for an hour. Then the children sang songs to a piano accompaniment, and there followed a lesson in cooking and the proper setting of a table. All this instruction was succeeded by an informal chat. "I want you all to tell me what you are going to do when you grow to be women," said Miss King. In most cases the occupations of their parents were chosen, and the number of washerwomen, scrubbers, and seamstresses in embryo was appalling. "And you, Amarilly?" she asked, addressing the new pupil last of all. Amarilly's mien was lofty, her voice consequential, as she replied in dramatic denouement: "I'm goin' on the stage!" The young teacher evinced a most eager interest in this declaration. "Oh, Amarilly! We all have a stage-longing period. When did you first think of such a career?" "I'm in the perfesshun now," replied Amarilly pompously. "Really! Tell me what you do, Amarilly." "I scrub at the Barlow Theatre, and I went to the matinee day afore yisterday. I hed a pass give to me." These statements made such a visible impression on her audience that Amarilly waxed eloquent and proceeded to describe the play, warming to her work as she gained confidence. The gestures of Lord Algernon and the leading lady were reproduced freely, fearlessly, and faithfully. With a glimmer of mischief dancing in her eyes, the young teacher listened appreciatively but apprehensively as she noted the amazed expression on the faces of the teachers of adjacent classes when Amarilly's treble tones were wafted toward them. Fortunately, the realistic rendering of Lord Algernon's declaration of love was interrupted by the accompaniment to a song, which was followed by the dismissal of the school. "Kin I take my strips home to sew on?" asked Amarilly. "Oh, no!" replied Miss King. "That is not permitted." Seeing the look of disappointment in the child's eyes, she asked in kindly tone: "Why are you in such a hurry to finish the work, Amarilly?"