Dawn was grateful to the boy, and in return for his championship she let him carry her books home, walking a little way behind with some of his devoted boy followers, while she was escorted by an eager group of little girls. At first there was a sort of jealousy of her among the older girls, who were inclined to toss their heads, and whisper among themselves that she was no older than they, so why should she put on so many airs? They suspected her of taking the attention of the boys away from them; but as the days went by, and Dawn entered into her work with enthusiasm, planning debates and plays and readings for them, and making even the dullest lessons glow with interest because she really seemed to like them herself, opposition melted away and they succumbed to her charm. For one so young and inexperienced, it was wonderful what she could do with those girls and boys. The parents began to talk about it, the minister saw it with gratification, and pleased himself by thinking his child might have been like that if she had lived. Presently the whole town was proud to own her as a kind of public institution, like the doctor and the minister. There were a few old ladies who shook their heads and wondered how it was that she had come so far, from that wicked city of New York, to teach their school, without there being a single relative in the vicinity. The village seamstress, with half a dozen pins in one corner of her mouth, would talk about it wherever she went to work, and say, "What I’d like to know is, who knows anything about her? What is she? Why doesn’t she tell about herself?" But in spite of all, Dawn walked calmly back and forth to her school, and managed the scholars with a degree of dignity and skill that would have done credit to a far older teacher. The whole town gradually began to love her. It was a nine days’ wonder that Daniel Butterworth had been so changed by her influence. His mother never could get done thanking the new teacher, sometimes with tears running down her cheeks. Often she would send to her by Daniel a paper of fresh doughnuts or a soft ginger-bread, or even a juicy apple-pie, as a token of her thankfulness. Dawn was "boarding round," and the days she spent at the Butterworths’ comfortable, weather-beaten old farmhouse were one continual jubilee for the family, and a season of triumph for the teacher. The best dishes and the finest table-cloth were got out, and a fire was built in the solemn front room. There, after the supper, which was composed of all the nicest things Mrs. Butterworth knew how to concoct, the family would gather around the teacher to listen while she talked or read to them.