"Well, after this I prefer that you should keep it locked. There is no reason why he should have a private entrance to the library that I can see; and anyway it's not safe. Some one might----" "Oh, Lord, Miss Watkins, don't you worry. Nobody ever came in here yet, and I've been here eight years. Jimmy's all right. He's careful and still's a mouse, and he won't do a mite of harm. He comes in regular after school's out, and it's just like a home to him, you may say. He's all right." Miss Watkins frowned. "I have no doubt that he is a very estimable little boy," she said; "but you will please see that no one enters the library by this door. I see no reason for favouritism. You understand me, I hope." And she returned to her work. The assistant, weary of her unprecedented labour, had laid aside the list of fines, and was openly crocheting. No sound of broom or lawn-mower proclaimed Thomas worthy of his hire, and Miss Watkins, vexed beyond the necessity of the case, labelled Fiction angrily, wondering why such a town as this needed a library, anyway. Two little old ladies, plump and deprecatory, entered in a swish of fresh, cambric morning-dresses. One of them fumbled in her black-silk bag for a book, and leaning on the little gate, coughed lightly to attract the assistant's attention. "Yes, indeed, Miss Mather, a lovely day. Sister and I enjoyed this very much. I don't know about what we'll take, exactly; it's so hard to tell. I always look and look, and the more I look the more anxious I get. It always seems as if everything was going to be too long, or else we've read it. You see we read a good deal. I wonder--do you know where the little boy is?" Miss Mather smiled triumphantly. "You'll have to ask Miss Watkins," she said. "The new librarian, my dear? Oh, I hardly like to disturb her. They say she's very strict. My cousin told me she charged her nine cents for a book that was out too long. You ask her, my dear!" "Miss Watkins," said the assistant meekly, "there is a lady here would like to see Jimmy. Do you know where he is?" "I do not," the librarian returned briefly. "Anything I can do----" "Oh, no, not at all!" cried the flushed old lady, "not for the world! Don't disturb yourself, please--Miss--Miss--I'll just wait till he gets in. He picked this out for me. You see, he knows pretty well what we want. I always like something with a little travel in it, and sister won't hear of a book unless it ends well. And it spoils it so to look ahead. So the little fellow looks at the end, and sees if it's all right for sister, and then he assures me as to the travel--I like European travel best--and then we know it's all right. I'll just wait for him." "I have no reason to suppose that he will be here," Miss Watkins said crossly. "Oh, yes, he'll be here," the old lady returned comfortably. "He'll be here soon. We can wait."