Aunt Ailsie gazed at the singing gal with dilating eyes. "I'll do hit, I shorely will," she declared. Then she continued, in a conspirator's voice: "We'll have to bide our time till Lot goes to a far funeral occasion, and can't get back afore night. Funeral meetings is setting in, now the crap's laid by; I heared Lot say several was denounced a-Sunday at a nigh one he went to. He'd ruther die as to miss one,--funeral meetings is his delight, same as song-ballats is mine,--and I'll listen round and find out when a far one is aiming to be, and get the word to Fulty, and Fulty can fetch you down to take the day, and then we'll have a singing time, up on the ridge." Fult and Isabel entered joyfully into the conspiracy, and then all three went down, Isabel and Aunt Ailsie to the women's dinner-table, Fult to the hotel below. After dinner, Aunt Ailsie received from Amy a brand-new primer, with her name written large on the front page, and thereupon attacked the alphabet with trembling enthusiasm, and the remark, "I feel like I'm jest starting in to live." Soon afterward, several other old people came up the hill with their primers, and Amy heard them all recite the alphabet, and spell a number of words. Uncle Ephraim could even read a few sentences--evidently he was giving all his time and strength to the acquisition of knowledge. He congratulated Aunt Ailsie on her start. "Hit's the best day's work you ever done," he said; "I wouldn't take the riches of the world for what I have larned these two weeks." Later, Aunt Ailsie went up to see the play-games of the young folks on the spur. In the largest ring she saw Fult leading the song and play, with Isabel as his partner. Lethie, who had led with him hitherto, sat near by on a log, with little Madison, her baby brother, in her lap. Aunt Ailsie dropped down beside her. "How's all the young-uns, Lethie?" she inquired. "Oh, fine," replied Lethie; "that nurse woman, she cyored up the rash little Maddy was broke out with so bad; and t'others is seeing the time of their lives a-larning and playing on the hill, and don't never give me ary grain of trouble." "Why hain't you playing yourself to-day?" "I just didn't feel like hit." "But that hain't right, Lethie; you air young, and ought to take your pleasure. Hit hain't right for a young gal to get old afore her time." Lethie's under lip trembled a little. "Aunt Ailsie," she said, "the reason I hain't a-playing is, my clothes looks so quare." She looked down at her dark, heavy linsey skirt, coarse little shoes, and ill-fitting pink-calico waist. "What's the matter with 'em?" inquired Aunt Ailsie. "I don't know; I allowed they was all right till yesterday. But sence Miss Isabel come in, they look so quare, and I hain't aiming to shame Fulty by playing with him. He axed me, but I wouldn't." Aunt Ailsie scrutinized Isabel's simple white linen dress. "Why, she hain't dressed no finer than you," she said.