"Mine?" says the young lady. "Of course not. I'm Lucy Snell--one of the teachers at the public school back there at the cross-roads. Some of the children always insist on walking part way home with me, especially little Billy here. Usually he behaves very nicely, but today he seems to be out of luck. His nose started leaking fully half an hour ago. He must have leaked quarts and quarts, all over himself and me. You wouldn't think he could have a drop left in him. I was just about crazy when I saw you coming. There's Dr. Baker's house on the right around that next curve. And say, there's some speed to this bus of yours, Mr.--er----" "Cutler," says Babe. "Here we are. Anything more I can do?" "Why," says Miss Snell, as I'm unbuttonin' the door for her, "you might stick around a few minutes to see if he wants little Billy taken to the hospital or anything. I'll let you know." And with that she trips in. "Lively young party, eh?" I remarks to Babe. "Don't mind askin' for what she wants." "Perfectly all right, too," says he, "in a case like this. She isn't one of the helpless kind. Some pep to her, I'll bet. Lucy, eh? I always did like that name." I had to chuckle. "What about the Snell part?" says I. "That one of your favorite names, too?" "N--n--no," says Babe. "But she'll probably change that some of these days. She's the sort that does, you know." "I expect you are right, at that," I agrees. Pretty soon out she comes again, calm and smilin'. It's some smile she has, by the way. Wide and generous and real folksy. And now that the scare has faded out of her eyes they have more or less snap to 'em. They're the bright brown kind, that match her hair, and the freckles across the bridge of her nose. "It's all right," says she. "Dr. Baker says the ice pack did the trick. And he'll take Billy home as soon as he's cleaned him up a bit. Thanks, Mr. Cutler." "Oh, I might as well drive you home, too, and finish the job," says Babe. "Well, I'm not missing anything like that, I can tell you," says Miss Snell. "I'm simply soaked with that youngster's gore. But I live way back on the other road. My! Billy dripped some on your seat cushions, didn't he?" "Oh, that will wash out," says Babe careless. "You're fond of youngsters, I suppose?" "Well, in a way I am," says she. "I'm used to 'em anyway, being one of six myself. That's why I'm out teaching--makes one less for Dad to have to rustle for. He keeps the little plumber's shop down opposite the station. You've seen the sign--T. Snell." "I've no doubt I have," says Babe. "And you--you like teaching, do you?" "Why, I can't say I'm dead in love with it," says Miss Snell. "Not this second grade stuff, anyway. It's all I could qualify for, though. This is my second year at it. I don't suppose you ever taught second grade yourself, did you?" Babe almost gasps, but admits that he never has.