“Here we are! There’s an awful crowd, but we’ll manage to see things somehow.” People were pushing their way into the long building and filling the rooms on either side of the hall. “Let’s show them the cooking first,” said Talitha as Gincy started for the sewing department. Mrs. Coyle edged her way to the glass cases in the centre of the room. They were filled with all kinds of eatables—salads, delicious looking rolls, pies, puddings, and chicken done to a turn. It took some time to convince her that everything was cooked in those queer-looking boxes. “Fireless cookers!” she exclaimed incredulously. “It do beat everythin’, Tally, how they do things here.” “I can make one for you, mother, if Martin can’t find time; it may not look just like the ones here, but it will work splendidly, I know.” “Shore?” asked her mother doubtfully. “I’d be proud ter hev one.” The men folks seemed equally interested. They gazed at the canned fruit in the open cupboards, at the model table set for four, and were quite unwilling to leave when the boys came to take them to the Sloyd room. The hall upstairs was crowded, there were so many things to see in the different rooms. Mrs. Gooch kept an eye out for Billy and Sudie, who had not put in an appearance. “They’ll be in the Sloyd room, I know,” Talitha assured her. “The Shackley boys fairly live there; Abner and Martin wouldn’t be much better if they weren’t taking extra studies.” The crowd in the room was beginning to thin a little. A few were still buying bookracks, paper knives, and other small things which were for sale. Sam Coyle could hardly believe that the students had made everything on exhibition. He halted in front of a big, leather-covered chair. “Look here, you-all,” he said, sinking down with characteristic indolence. “Hit sets powerful easy, too. Thet’s what I’d hone ter do if I war young; we wouldn’t live like we do now, but thet’s plumb past mendin’.” “No, it isn’t, father, if you’ll let Martin help you,” Talitha answered decidedly. “I always knew you were handy with tools, and we’re going to have some—there’s Sudie now, Mrs. Gooch; they’re all over behind that stack of things in the corner. Come on.” “Look, mammy!” announced Billy as he pointed to a small oak table, polished to an astonishing perfection. “Abner did hit, and here’s somethin’ else,” dragging her farther along toward a wide, hanging shelf. “Hit’s fer books, and I’m ter have one eend.” He fairly danced with happiness, and Mrs. Gooch turned to her husband and son a face full of pride. Not one sacrifice which she had made for her children seemed worth remembering now.