Excited groups dot the school-yard and cottage-grounds every recess and playtime, and cries of "No inchin's!", "My taw!", "Pickin's on me!", "No back-killin's!", "I beat, but you git the goes!" fill the air. Marbles is such a quiet and genteel game, comparatively speaking, and with so much less menace to life and limb than preceding ones, that I encourage and forward it in every way, and sincerely hope it will last out the term. The boys seem most unfortunate, however, about losing their marbles, and are constantly asking for extra work in order to buy more. I have already given Jason money to buy half a dozen sets. _Saturday Night._ This afternoon, after the arduous labors of the day, and an hour of play, Philip was sitting on the back cottage-steps eating a huge chunk of "sugar-tree-sugar" he had just bought in the village, the other boys leaving their marbles and gathering about him like flies as he drew forth the great, sticky lump, though with but faint hope in their eyes. Sure enough, he made no motion to break it up or pass it around (Taulbee, with whom he usually shares, is at home for the week-end). So Philip sat and licked and crunched in solitary state. Just at this juncture, four of the wash-girls, including Dilsey, suddenly appeared round the corner of the house, on some unexpected errand. Dilsey stopped in her tracks, and took in the situation. Then walking on, she remarked casually to the peach-tree, "I'd sooner die as to marry a greedy man!" Flushed and angry, Philip sprang to his feet. "You needn't talk, missy,--I give you more'n I kep',--more'n you could eat!" "Yes, and I give very near all of mine to the girls; but you haint never give them boys nary grain of your'n, that I can see!" Philip wavered a bare instant, then, "'Cause I haint had time yet," he said, "I was just a-fixing to break it up with this-here rock, and give 'em some." "Well, I would, if I was you," murmured Dilsey, with decision, as she passed on. As Philip smashed angrily away with the rock, I marvelled at the vast power in women's hands, and wished there were more Dilseys with the courage to use it. _Sunday._ Flour all gone,--no more biscuit from now on until the roads open--and no sugar for the little coffee that remains. _Monday Evening._ To-day the rumor is flying that the remaining Cheevers set the fence up again on the Marrs land Friday and Saturday, taking their time, in known security from interruption. Nucky disappeared at noon,--of course he has gone home. _Tuesday Night._ I was late going over to supper this evening, and had turned out the lights and was locking my door to leave when Nucky ran into the cottage. He did not see me in the shadow, and evidently believed the house to be deserted, for he flung himself down before the fire in a passion of fury and despair, beating the floor with hands and feet. I waited until the storm had subsided a little, then stepped forward into the firelight.