It, was mid-afternoon when the Schoolteacher left the schoolhouse. He was accompanied by the two children, Martha and David. The dog Jim went before him and he carried the tiny boy on his shoulder. They went along the road to the river, crossed on the stones and ascended the mountain. The little boy fell asleep, his arms around the Schoolteacher's neck. The two children walked beside the man. For the most part they were silent. Finally they came to the little clearing. The children stopped in the road, and the man went up onto the cabin porch, the little sleeping boy in his arms. The woman at work in the kitchen, hearing the footsteps, came out to the door. When she saw who it was, she was surprised. “School's out early to-day,” she said. “Yes,” replied the School-teacher. “What's the matter?” “It's the last day of the school.” “Won't there be any more school?” “No.” The woman's lips trembled. “Then, then...” she said, and she began to cry. “Mary,” said the School-teacher, “have you forgotten what I told you?” The woman sobbed, “But it's come so soon.” Then she looked at the little boy sleeping in the School-teacher's arms and the tears streamed down her face. “Now, what'll I do?” she said. “Now, what'll I do? He'll set there by the door, him an' Jim, an' he'll look for you every morning, an' whenever Jim barks he'll say 'Nim see Teacher,' but he won't never see you.” “Yes,” replied the School-teacher, “he will see me again.” “Then you won't be so awful far away?” “I shall never be very far away from him.” Then he put the sleeping child into the woman's arms. “Don't wake him,” he said, “and don't cry. Remember, Mary, that if he should go with me, then he could not stay with you.” He went down the road, and with the two children beside him, passed on along the path. They went by the spring, with its keg sunk in the earth, and up the mountain to Nicholas Parks' house. There, in the road, they found the woman with the yellow hair, feeding the chickens, a measure of corn in her apron. “You're back early,” she said. “It's the last day of the school,” replied the School-teacher. The woman's whole body was convulsed. The corn spilled out of her apron. Then she fled along the road, and up the path to the house. At the door she stopped, turned about, and then huddled down by the steps, her apron over her head.