What other little girl, indeed, could have found so much to "supposing" with the wealth of shavings that were to be found in Mr. Parlow's carpenter shop? When the two were about to start for home they were trimmed with the long curly shavings--to say nothing of Prince--to an extent to amaze the beholder. Amos Bartlett, who came along from the direction of the Cove, was very greatly astonished when he first beheld the decorated little girls and the dog. "I declare to Peter!" Amos ejaculated, big-eyed, "I didn't see you girls under them shavin's--not at first. How-do, Car'lyn?" "Thank you," said the visitor to the Corners, "I'm well. Your nose is just as big as ever, isn't it, Amos?" The small boy felt of it to make sure before he answered: "Seems to be." "Where've you been, Amos?" asked Freda. Amos displayed the music roll under his arm. "To Miss Spellman's," he said. "Maw makes me go ev'ry week. Take lessons. I hate it!" "Piano lessons?" cried Carolyn May. "Oh!" "He don't like it," Freda explained with disgust. "I'd be just _crazy_ 'bout it if my mother'd let me take of Miss Spellman. But we haven't any piano." "Aw, it's all bosh!" whined Amos. "I'd ruther pound a dishpan with a hammer. My maw thinks she can make a _mu_-sican out o' me. I dunno what it's all about. Whad you think Miss Spellman told me to find out today?" "What?" chorused the little girls. "She asked me--now, le's see--it was how many carrots there are in a bushel." "What?" Freda gasped. "How many carrots in a bushel? She never!" "Did so!" declared Amos, more confident the moment his statement was doubted. "That's what she asked me. And I've got to find out before next week." "What's carrots got to do with music?" demanded the stunned Freda. But Carolyn began to giggle. She clapped a hand over her own lips to stifle the laughter that would well up to them; but her shavings-curls shook as though disturbed by a stiff breeze. "What's the matter with you?" asked Freda, while the none-too-bright Amos stared, round-eyed, at Carolyn. "Why! Why!" gasped the latter. "Miss Spellman didn't ask about _carrots_. Now did she really, Amos? Wasn't it about _beets_?" "Wal," drawled he of the big nose, "it was 'bout some vegertable." "I want to know what beets have got to do with music then?" Freda cried. "She asked him," explained the other little girl, much amused, "how many beats there were in the measure. Now, didn't she, Amos Bartlett?" "Guess she did," admitted the abashed small boy. "But what's the diff'rence? Ev'rything about pianner playin' is foolish." Mr. Jedidiah Parlow, an amused but until now a silent auditor, observed: "Miz Bartlett's got a crazy notion she can make that Amos a musical prodigal. Amos'll make it 'bout the time pigs fly--but pigs air mighty onsartain birds."