"Teacher, he's on the country. He is pedlar mans. He walk und he walk und he walk mit all things what is stylish in a box. On'y nobody wants they should buy somethings from off of my papa. No ma'an, Missis Bailey, that ain't how they makes mit my poor papa. They goes und makes dogs should bite him on the legs. That's how he tells in a letter what he writes on my mamma. Comes no money in the letter und me und my mamma we got it pretty hard. We got three babies." "I'm going home with you this afternoon," announced Miss Bailey in a voice which suggested neither mads nor clubs nor violence. After that visit things were a shade more bearable in the home of the absent pedlar, and one-half of Yetta's ambition was achieved. Teacher had a glad! There was a gentleness almost apologetic in her attitude and the hour after which an arrival should be met with a long-proud-mad-look was indefinitely postponed. And, friendly relations being established, Yetta's craving for monitorship grew with the passing days. When she expressed to Teacher her willingness to hold office she was met with unsatisfying but baffling generalities. "But surely I shall let you be monitor some day. I have monitors for nearly everything under the sun, now, but perhaps I shall think of something for you." "I likes," faltered Yetta; "I likes I should be monitor off of flowers." "But Nathan Spiderwitz takes care of the window boxes. He won't let even me touch them. Think what he would do to you." "Then I likes I should be monitors to set by your place when you goes by the Principal's office." "But Patrick Brennan always takes care of the children when I am not in the room." "He marches first by the line too. He's two monitors." "He truly is," agreed Miss Bailey. "Well, I shall let you try that some day." It was a most disastrous experiment. The First Reader Class, serenely good under the eye of Patrick Brennan, who wore one of the discarded brass buttons of his sire pinned to the breast of his shirt-waist, found nothing to fear or to obey in his supplanter, and Miss Bailey returned to her kingdom to find it in an uproar and her regent in tears. "I don't likes it. I don't likes it," Yetta wailed. "All the boys shows a fist on me. All the girls makes a snoot on me. All the childrens say cheek on me. I don't likes it. I don't likes it." "Then you sha'n't do it again," Teacher comforted her. "You needn't be a monitor if you don't wish." "But I likes I shall be monitors. On'y not that kind from monitors." "If you can think of something you would enjoy I shall let you try again. But it must be something, dear, that no one is doing for me."