“Well sir,” said Elnora, doubling down on the floor and spreading out her skirt, “set the bucket here, mother.  These points are brittle, and should be put in one at a time.  If they are chipped I can’t sell them.  Well sir!  I’ve had a time!  You know I just had to have books.  I tried three stores, and they wouldn’t trust me, not even three days, I didn’t know what in this world I could do quickly enough.  Just when I was almost frantic I saw a sign in a bank window asking for caterpillars, cocoons, butterflies, arrow points, and everything.  I went in, and it was this Bird Woman who wants the insects, and the banker wants the stones.  I had to go to school then, but, if you’ll believe it”—­Elnora beamed on all of them in turn as she talked and slipped the arrow points from her dress to the pail—­“if you’ll believe it—­but you won’t, hardly, until you look at the books—­there was the mathematics teacher, waiting at his door, and he had a set of books for me that he had telephoned a Sophomore to bring.”

“How did he happen to do that, Elnora?” interrupted Sinton.

Elnora blushed.

“It was a fool mistake I made yesterday in thinking books were just handed out to one.  There was a teachers’ meeting last night and the history teacher told about that.  Professor Henley thought of me.  You know I told you what he said about my algebra, mother.  Ain’t I glad I studied out some of it myself this summer!  So he telephoned and a girl brought the books.  Because they are marked and abused some I get the whole outfit for two dollars.  I can erase most of the marks, paste down the covers, and fix them so they look better.  But I must hurry to the joy part.  I didn’t stop to eat, at noon, I just ran to the Bird Woman’s, and I had lunch with her.  It was salad, hot chocolate, and lovely things, and she wants to buy most every old scrap I ever gathered.  She wants dragonflies, moths, butterflies, and he—­the banker, I mean—­wants everything Indian.  This very night she came to the swamp with me and took away enough stuff to pay for the books and tuition, and to-morrow she is going to buy some more.”

Elnora laid the last arrow point in the pail and arose, shaking leaves and bits of baked earth from her dress.  She reached into her pocket, produced her money and waved it before their wondering eyes.

“And that’s the joy part!” she exulted.  “Put it up in the clock till morning, mother.  That pays for the books and tuition and—­” Elnora hesitated, for she saw the nervous grasp with which her mother’s fingers closed on the bills.  Then she continued, but more slowly and thinking before she spoke.

“What I get to-morrow pays for more books and tuition, and maybe a few, just a few, things to wear.  These shoes are so dreadfully heavy and hot, and they make such a noise on the floor.  There isn’t another calico dress in the whole building, not among hundreds of us.  Why, what is that?  Aunt Margaret, what are you hiding in your lap?”