* * * * * It was still early the next morning when Miss North worked alone in the school-room. Slowly the door opened. Slowly two small figures pushed their way awkwardly into the room. Miss North looked up. "Why, Ezekiel! And Trusty!" They came in softly, hand in hand, and stood before her desk, Trusty passive, Ezekiel glowing shyly with pride and pleasure. "Hyeah's Trusty, Miss No'th," he explained briefly. "I see. Why, how--how very nice! And so nice and early! Why, Trusty, aren't you glad you could get here so early?" Trusty seemed hardly ready to commit himself just yet, but began to look shyly pleased, too. Ezekiel, still holding him by the hand, looked down protectingly. [Illustration: "TWO SMALL FIGURES PUSHED THEIR WAY INTO THE ROOM"] "Yas'm, he--he likes ter git yere early; doan't yer, Trusty?" "Yes, I'm sure he does," put in Miss North tactfully. "And now, perhaps he would like to help by getting some of the dust out of these erasers; they aren't very clean this morning." His eyes brightened. "Yas'm!" The two came back looking as if they had been temporarily detained in a flour-barrel. "Why, yes, those are very clean; but you seem to be just a little dusty yourselves, aren't you?" "Yas'm," agreed Trusty, while Ezekiel brushed him with doubtful success. "Kin ole Sam'el Smiff dus' 'em?" "Samuel Smith? I don't think Samuel ever did dust them----" "'Cuz me 'n' 'Zekiel kin dus' 'em good's dat 'mos' _any_ time; cyan't we, 'Zekiel?" By the time that school was ready to begin that morning, there stood a stately line of "visitors from the North" across Miss North's room, ready for enlightenment on the Negro Problem. And as Miss North began: "We are having a new month to-day, children; who can tell me what the name of the month is?" the line drew itself up, preparatory to getting right down to the heart of the matter. "What month, class?" "February!" "Yes; very good. Is February a short month or a long month?" There was an unfortunate difference of opinion: "Short!" "Long!" "Short!" "Long!" "_Short!_" "_Long!_" "Very well," joined in Miss North, ready to agree to anything. "What do you say about it, Archelus?" "Li'l' teeny bit uv a short month," explained Archelus. "Ain' no longer'n----" As Archelus was about to illustrate the length of February with his two small hands, Miss North waived any further information on the subject, and went on: "Yes, a short month. And who can tell me what holiday we have in this month?" There were two or three who promptly arrived at conclusions. The visitors were smiling wide smiles of appreciation. "Lemuel?" "Chris'mas!" "Oh, no; we have just had Christmas. Samuel?" "Thanksgivin'!" "Why, no, indeed, Samuel; you are not thinking. William?" "Washin'ton's Birthday!" One of the visitors, a rosy-cheeked gentleman with white hair, gave such a loud grunt of appreciation at this that Miss North glanced his way.