“Hallo, Jeff; where you goin’?” Uncle Zach asked, and Jeff replied, “To the river after pond lilies.” “Oh,” Alice said, “pond lilies and the river. Is it far? Can I go?” She spoke to Jeff, who replied, “Not very far if we go acrost the lots through the wet grass, but you’ll have to hold up your gown.” At this point Uncle Zacheus, who was famous for introducing people, came up and said, “Miss Tracy, this is Jefferson Wilkes, our chore boy. We let him get the lilies and sell ’em for a penny apiece. ’Tain’t far to the river, but pretty wet for them boots; bran’ new, ain’t they?” and he glanced admiringly at Alice’s five-dollar boots, worn that morning for the first time. “Yes; quite new, and I can’t afford to spoil them,” Alice said. “Wait, Jefferson, till I change them.” She ran up to her room, put on her second best boots and rubbers and was soon off with Jeff, holding her skirts above her ankles, while Uncle Zacheus looked admiringly after her. Jeff was very proud and attentive, and led her through the driest places and helped her over the stone wall and into the boat, asking if she were at all afraid. “Not in the least,” she said. “I know how to row, and if I didn’t I feel sure of you,” and she beamed upon him a smile so bright that if he had been on the land he would at once have stood upon his head, his favorite way of showing his delight. He knew that one of the young ladies was very wealthy, but did not know which one it was sitting with him and helping him with the boat when it got entangled among the lily pads. At last, as his admiration increased, he asked abruptly, “Be you the rich Miss Tracy, with such piles of money?” Alice laughed and answered him, “Oh, no. I am the poor Miss Tracy and teach school among the mountains.” “Golly! I thought you’s the rich one, you’re so—kinder—I don’t know what,” Jeff said. School-teachers, as a rule, were not great favorites with him, but this one must be different from those he had known. Steering the boat to a shaded place where a birch tree drooped over the water he began to pull in the lilies which were very thick just there, and finally said, “Did you have boys in your school; boys like me, I mean?” “Oh, yes. Quite a number your size, and some older.” “Did you have to lick ’em?” “Never,” Alice answered, greatly amused with the boy, who continued, “What did you do when they cut up?” “They didn’t cut up much, and when they did I talked to them till they were sorry,” Alice replied, while Jeff rejoined, “I wish you was my schoolma’am. I get whaled two or three times a week. Don’t hurt me, though.” “What do you do to get punished so often?” Alice asked, and Jeff replied, “Oh, nothin’ much. I hide the scholars’ books and pails and dinners,—for fun, you know,—but I’m whaled the most for gettin’ things out of their pockets when they don’t know it.”