It's 'onc't in grace, allus in grace,' ez the catechism teaches." "But," said Dudley, who until now had listened silently to this discussion, "the Bible speaks of wanderers from the fold. No doubt Jake is a wandering sheep." "Maybe he is," Mrs. Rogers agreed; "but, ef so, he looks an' acts so lak a goat thet the angel Gabr'el hisse'f don't know the diffruns." "An' ef he is a sheep," added Mason, "he's so hidebound an' so fleece-growed, an' hez been herdin' with the goats in the devil's pastur' so long, thet he hain't wuth fotchin' home to the fold." As soon as the fall wheat-sowing was finished, Abner Dudley resumed his school, but under such changed conditions that he could not feel the same enthusiastic interest as during the previous term. John Calvin was now the only advanced pupil; Henry had entered Transylvania University, and neither Betsy nor Susan were in school. "Cissy's goin' on sixteen, an' hez eddication 'nough," said her mother. "It don't do gals no good to be too book-l'arned--jes' meks 'em uppish an' no-'count." Mr. Rogers submitted to his wife's decree. "I boss the boys," he said, "but I reckon Cynthy Ann knows whut's best fur the gals; though, ez fur ez I'm consarned, I'd like Cissy to be ez eddicated ez any uv them high-flyers 'roun' Lexin'ton." Susan was ambitious and loved study, and, although she did not openly rebel against her mother's ruling, went about her household tasks in a dejected way which greatly tried bustling Mrs. Rogers. "Now, Cissy," she said, coming to the girl's room one night and finding her sobbing over disappointed hopes, "don't you s'pose yer own mammy'll do whut's best fur her dautah? You mustn't think 'cause I'm sharp an' stirrin' with you thet I don't love you." She seated herself on the side of the bed and began to stroke Susan's hair. "'Tain't no use fur you to tek on so. You must jes' trust yer mammy, an' by an' by you'll see I'm right. I can't spar' you frum home this wintah, but you kin study o' nights, an' Abner'll holp you with yer books. So cheer up, lak a good gal; an' nex' time the packman comes 'long--an' I'm lookin' fer him 'most any day--I'll buy you some ribbon fur yer hair an' a string uv beads. Soon's we git the heft o' the fall wuck did up, you'n' me will mek you one o' them fine quilted silk petticoats, lak Betsy's, to w'ar under yer red calaminco dress. Thah now!"--and she kissed the girl--"say yer prayers, an' go to sleep." Then she murmured as she left the room, "Pore gal! 'Tis hard on her; but I jes' can't spar' her this wintah. I know she's ez purty an' ez good a gal ez kin be found anywhahs!"