Mary did so, and then, as if conscious for the first time of Miss Grundy’s monopoly of the candle, Sal seized a large newspaper lying near, and twisting it up, said, “Let there be light;” then thrusting one end of it into the flames and drawing it out again, added, “and there is light.”

After tumbling over the leaves awhile, she continued, “No, they didn’t study this when I was young; but tell me what ’tis that troubles you.”

Mary pointed to the problem, and after looking at it attentively a moment, Sal said, “The answer to it is 4; and if you will give me some little inkling of the manner in which you are taught to explain them at school, perhaps I can tell you about that.”

“It begins in this way,” said Mary.  “If 24 is 3/5 of some number, 1/5 of that number must be something or other, I don’t know what.”

“One third of 24 of course,” said Sal.

“Oh, yes, that’s it,” exclaimed Mary, who began to understand it herself.  “Now, I guess I know.  You find what one third of 24 is, and if that is one fifth, five fifths would be five times that, and then see how many times 10 will go in it.”

“Exactly so,” said Sal.  “You’ll make an arithmetic yet, and have it out just about the time I do my grammar.  But,” she added in another tone, “I’ve concluded to leave out the Grundy gender!”

Each night after this Mary brought home her books, and the rapid improvement which she made in her studies was as much owing to Sally’s useful hints and assistance as to her own untiring perseverance.  One day when she returned from school Sally saw there was something the matter, for her eyes were red and her cheeks flushed as if with weeping.  On inquiring of Billy, she learned that some of the girls had been teasing Mary about her teeth, calling them “tushes,” &c.

As it happened one of the paupers was sick, and Dr. Gilbert was at that time in the house.  To him Sal immediately went, and after laying the case before him, asked him to extract the offending teeth.  Sally was quite a favorite with the doctor, who readily consented, on condition that Mary was willing, which he much doubted, as such teeth came hard.

“Willing or not, she shall have them out.  It’s all that makes her so homely,” said Sal; and going in quest of Mary, she led her to the doctor, who asked to look in her mouth.

There was a fierce struggle, a scream, and then one of the teeth was lying upon the floor.

“Stand still,” said Sal, more sternly than she had ever before spoken to Mary, who, half frightened out of her wits stood still while the other one was extracted.

“There,” said Sal, when the operation was finished, “you look a hundred per cent. better.”

For a time Mary cried and spit, hardly knowing whether the relished the joke or not; but when Billy praised her improved looks, telling her that “her mouth was real pretty,” and when she herself dried her eyes enough to see that it was a great improvement, she felt better, and wondered why she had never thought to have them out before.