The next Monday morning Talitha sang all the way to school. The air was frosty and a nipping wind reddened her cheeks and made her fingers tingle, but she laughed a merry defiance at the cold. How warm and cosy the new schoolhouse should be when the children came trooping in. A turn in the worn footpath and there it stood before her, new and inviting, beckoning her on. Some one had been there before her, for smoke came from the chimney. The young teacher hastened her steps. The door was unlocked and she entered. The place was empty but warm to the farthest nook, and Talitha rubbed her eyes. There were familiar looking books on the table and maps on the walls beside the wide stretches of blackboard. There were pictures also, not just such as she would have chosen, but how they brightened the place! “If hit’s picters Tally wants, why hit’s picters she shall hev,” declared the storekeeper at the Settlement. And forthwith he had gathered his accumulation of calendars, chromo advertisements, and picture cards to beautify the schoolroom. For a time Talitha’s heart was as light as a feather, then something began to trouble her. Quite by accident she discovered that Si Quinn’s funds were getting low. How little he could afford to replace the books and maps which had been destroyed she did not imagine. She only knew that he seemed to have grown paler and thinner each time she saw him. He had a habit of dropping in at the school almost daily, and when a week passed and he did not appear, Talitha called at the cabin. She knocked, but there was no response and she opened the door with misgiving. The old man was not there. She looked curiously around; the remnants of a scanty meal were on the table, and with a sudden inspiration she began to investigate the condition of his larder. The girl stood amazed at the result. She knew he had not been able to cultivate his little garden patch the past summer, but because of the small sum he had earned for years in the Goose Creek school, Si Quinn had been looked upon as a well-to-do man in the community. Much troubled at her discovery, Talitha set her wits to work. The old man was too proud, she knew, to accept any offers of assistance. Suddenly a plan entered her head. Christmas was only three weeks distant—that was her opportunity, only something must be done meanwhile. Where could he have gone? The girl ran to the door and looked out. There he was now coming along the creek path. She hurried out to meet him. “Howdy, Tally!” he called, a smile brightening the wan, haggard face. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” cried the girl. “I’m going to take you home with me for supper and I know father and mother won’t hear to your coming back to-night.”