was the assurance on the board. Kitty tossed her little head. "R-e, re, c-i-e-v-e, ceive, receive," spelled Kitty, her eyes on the blackboard. "Wrong." Emmy Lou stood up. It was the second word in a column on a picture page. Emmy Lou could see it. She looked at Dear Teacher. "R-e, re, c-e-i-v-e, ceive, receive," said Emmy Lou. One person beside Kitty had noted the blackboard. Already the Principal was passing an eraser across the words of the visiting gentleman. Dear Teacher's cheeks were pink as Emmy Lou's as she led Emmy Lou to receive the medal. And her head was finely erect. She held Emmy Lou's hand through it all. The visiting gentleman's manner was a little stony. It had quite lost its playfulness. He looked almost gloomily on the mother who had upheld the pillars of state and the future generally. It was a beautiful medal. It was a five-pointed star. It said "Reward of Merit." The visiting gentleman lifted it from its bed of pink cotton. "You must get a ribbon for it," said Dear Teacher. Emmy Lou slipped her hand from Dear Teacher's. She went to the front desk. She got her Second Reader, and brought forth a folded packet from behind the criss-cross stitches holding the cover. Then she came back. She put the paper in Dear Teacher's hand. "There's a ribbon," said Emmy Lou. They were at dinner when Emmy Lou got home. On a blue ribbon around her neck dangled a new medal. In her hand she carried a shiny box. Even Uncle Charlie felt there must be some mistake. Aunt Louise got her hat to hurry Emmy Lou right back to school. At the gate they met Dear Teacher's carriage, taking Dear Teacher home. She stopped. Aunt Cordelia came out, and Aunt Katie. Uncle Charlie, just going, stopped to hear. "Spelling match!" said Aunt Louise. "Not our Emmy Lou?" said Aunt Katie. "The precious baby," said Aunt Cordelia. "Hammel," said Uncle Charlie, "McKoeghany," and Uncle Charlie smote his thigh. "I SING OF HONOUR AND THE FAITHFUL HEART" The Real Teacher was sick. The Third Reader was to begin its duties with a Substitute. The Principal announced it to the class, looking at them coldly and stating the matter curtly. It was as though he considered the Third Reader Class to blame. Somehow Emmy Lou felt apologetic about it and guilty. And she watched the door. A Substitute might mean anything. Hattie, Emmy Lou's desk-mate, watched the door, too, but covertly, for Hattie did not like to acknowledge she did not know. [Illustration: "Hattie peeped out from behind the shed."] The Substitute came in a little breathlessly. She was pretty--as pretty as Emmy Lou's Aunt Katie. She seemed a little uncertain as to what to do. Perhaps she felt conscious of forty pairs of eyes waiting to see what she would do. The Substitute stepped hesitatingly up on the platform. She gripped the edge of the desk, and opened her lips, but nothing came. She closed them and swallowed. Then she said, "Children----"