"Yep. Her derned husband wouldn't stay divorced when he found out Dave could support a fambly as big as that. He figgered it would be jest as easy to take keer of eight as seven, so he perlitely attached hisself to Dave's kitchen an' started in to eat hisself to death. Dave was goin' to have his wife apply fer another divorce an' leave the name blank, so's he could put in either husband ef it came to a pinch, but I coaxed him out of it. He finally got rid of the feller by askin' him one day to sweep out the office. He could eat all right, but it wasn't natural fer him to work, so he skipped out. Next I heerd of him he had married a widder who was gittin' a pension because her first husband fit fer his country. The Government shet off the pension jest as soon as she got married ag'in, and then that blamed cuss took in washin' fer her. He stayed away from home on wash-days, but as every day was wash-day with her, he didn't see her by daylight fer three years. She died, an' now he's back at Dave's ag'in. He calls Dave his husband-in-law." It required all of Anderson's social and official diplomacy to forestall an indignation meeting when it was announced that a stranger, Miss Banks, had been selected to teach school No. 5. There was some talk of mobbing the township trustee and Board of County Commissioners, but Anderson secured the names of the more virulent talkers and threatened to "jail" them for conspiracy. "Why, Anderson," almost wailed George Ray, "that girl's from the city. What does she know about grammar an' history an' all that? They don't teach anything but French an' Italian in the cities an' you know it." "Pshaw!" sniffed Anderson. "I hate grammar an' always did. I c'n talk better Italian than grammar right now, an' I hope Miss Banks will teach every child in the district how to talk French. You'd orter hear Rosalie talk it. Besides, Rosie says she's a nice girl an'--an' needs the job." Anderson lied bravely, but he swallowed twice in doing it. [Illustration: "September brought Elsie Banks"] September brought Elsie Banks to make life worth living for Rosalie. The two girls were constantly together, talking over the old days and what the new ones were to bring forth, especially for Miss Gray, who had resumed wood carving as a temporary occupation. Miss Banks was more than ever reluctant to discuss her own affairs, and Rosalie after a few trials was tactful enough to respect her mute appeal. It is doubtful if either of the girls mentioned the name of big, handsome Tom Reddon--Tom, who had rowed in his college crew; but it is safe to say that both of them thought of him more than once those long, soft, autumn nights--nights when Tinkletown's beaux were fairly tumbling over themselves in the effort to make New York life seem like a flimsy shadow in comparison. CHAPTER XI Elsie Banks