"Will you give me the key to the office Miss?" she asked this time with much emphasis. "Indeed, I have no control over the office, it is my father's, madam, and he has his books and papers in it and doesn't wish them disturbed." "My father is not in the house just now. Perhaps you had better wait until he returns." "Oh, indeed, miss, I carn't, I am a bit late just now, and I must be prompt, miss, or I shall lose my position. It doesn't matter about your father's books and papers, miss, that is a trifle; I guess I can find a place for the books and papers if you do not choose to remove them yourself. Get a move on you, Miss, if you please, as I remarked, I am a bit late this forenoon." "I do not wish to give you the key, madam," again replied the girl, "What is your business upon my father's premises unbidden?" "Ah, indeed, what impudence! Did I ever, I guess you will find out quickly, miss! Will you give me the key miss, or shall I drive home again and report you to Mr. Laflin?" The name Laflin was, figuratively speaking, the burglar's tool that unlocked every door in this populous county. With many wicked thoughts Alice delivered the key to the school-mistress and with her arms around the necks of two negro girls she trooped off to the office; the door was opened and into the room the mistress and pupils entered. "Oh, dear, dear, dear! exclaimed the school marm piteously. Whatever shall I do with all this rubbish? Come here, dear gyurls and boys, be a bit lively and remove these disgusting old things. Take them to the lady of the house; I guess she will know what to do with them. We carn't have thes trifles in the school room; no indeed we carn't" and pell-mell, helter skelter, topsy turvey, books, periodicals and papers were thrust out of doors into boxes, barrels, anything, anywhere as if they were so many burglars "taken in the act." Poor Alice cried and sobbed; but a new regime was fast crowding out the memory of the olden days, it was the welding of an intermediate link between the waning and the waxing--the disappearing and the appearing civilizations. "Now, dear gyurls and boys," said the mistress. "Take your seats. I guess we will begin. Charlie, come here, dear. You are a sweet little boy and I guess your mamma thinks so, too. How old are you, dear?" "Seben, agwine in leben," answered the little black urchin quickly. "Who made you, Charlie?" "Who made me?" repeated the little negro saucily. "Yes, who made you?" "Oh I dunno, dat dere boy dere sez ole satan made me und him too." "Oh, the precious little heathen," exclaimed the school marm, discouragingly, "Did you ever hear of God?" she asked again. "Yes mum, I dun und seed him wun time, when me und Jake wus a rabbit huntin." "Oh dear, dear, dear! Where did you see God? And what was he like?" she asked. "Seed him down de crick," answered the negro smartly. "What was he like?"