"Just look at her finery," said Bertie to her nearest neighbor, as Katie entered, looking as fresh and sweet as a June rose, "and her mother so poor. I could tell a story about how she got it that would make Miss Etta open her eyes, and Miss Eunice, too, for all she makes such a pet of the saint." "What in the world do you mean?" said the other; but Bertie shook her head and looked mysterious, of course thus exciting the curiosity of the other tenfold. "Do tell me," she said. "We know what we do know, don't we?" said Bertie, provokingly, appealing to Gretchen, who nodded, but did not speak. "Now, you're real mean," said the other, one Amelia Porter by name. "I know something I won't tell you, that's all." Just then the bell tapped for silence, and the rest of the conversation was carried on in whispers, the only part which was heard being Amelia's astonished "Stole it? You don't say so! I never would have thought of such a thing." But Katie did not hear. She was not thinking about her dress at all. The lesson was to her a very interesting one--the oft-repeated story of the tongues of fire that came down upon the early church, symbolizing the mighty power of the Holy Spirit to enkindle divine emotions, enthusiasm, and praise, and to make human tongues as flames of fire. Miss Etta explained (for she had taken pains to study it up) how, in the early, times one Sunday in June was observed in commemoration of this descent of the Holy Ghost, and how, on that day, the new Christians, who of course were originally heathen, having been at first subjected to a long course of training, were baptized. They were called _catechumens_, because they were catechised or questioned, and _candidates_ because they wore long white robes, _candidus_ being the Latin word for white, and by degrees the day came to be called Whitsunday. Furthermore, Miss Etta told all about the Whitsuntide festivals of old English times in the days of the corrupt church, when festivities of the most riotous kind took place on the two days following Sunday; and the girls left the school, if not impressed by the holy teachings of the lessons, very full of a certain knowledge of that kind which St. Paul says "puffeth up," and prepared to pass a brilliant examination on the history and customs of Whitsuntide. Very different was the pastor's sermon of that morning, which several of our girls remembered all their lives. Its text was:-- "Ye are the temples of the Holy Ghost."