A slouching figure leaned upon the top rail of the fence at the side of the road and its attitude, together with the singular expression of the face beneath the hat brim, piqued Mrs. Hodgkins’ curiosity.

“What on airth!”—­she began, but the figure did not move.

“Going ter be deef like his father, I wonder?” she murmured, then raising her voice she exclaimed,

“I say, Timotheus, what on airth be ye a dreaming of this bright mornin’ ‘stead er gittin’ ready fer school?”

A moment longer the boy stood staring at the sky, then as if slowly, and with an effort coming down to earth again, he looked down upon the woman who had interrupted him as he said,

“I heered ye, Mis’ Hodgkins the fust time ye spoke, but when I’m a thinkin’ a thought, I ain’t apt ter answer.”

“Good gracious!” ejaculated Mrs. Hodgkins, “I hope fer the good of yer family, ye don’t think ’em often.”

“I’m allus er workin’ ter improve my intellec’; that’s why I ain’t er goin’ ter school.  Got so I knowed all the teacher knowed last year, so ‘tain’t nothin’ but a waste er time ter think of goin’ this year.”

“Yer father said ye was goin’ ter devote yer time ter literatoor; what d’ he mean by that, Timotheus?” asked Mrs. Hodgkins.

“Wall, I’ll have ter help on the farm, but between chores, I expect ter be readin’ what literatoor we own.  On the shelf in our parlor we’ve got the almanic, a New England Primer, a book er Martyrs, a book called Book er Beauty, another with a yaller kiver called the Pirate’s Den, and one more called The Letter Writer, ‘n’ I guess by the time I’ve read all them I’ll know a heap.  Father says he expects I’ll do somethin’ wonderful yet, ‘n’ I guess he’s ’baout right.”

“Well of all the”—­but here she checked herself, and bidding him a hasty good morning, she hurried on, lest her disgust should make itself heard.

Timotheus Simpkins still leaned upon the rail fence, as if he had forgotten her; apparently he was once more “thinkin’ a thought.”

“I guess I better write that daown before I fergit it,” he remarked a few moments later, as he started towards the house, his hands clasped behind his back and his gaze riveted upon space.  Some great thought was evidently about to be transferred to paper.

If Timotheus failed to appreciate the opportunity offered the young people of the town to obtain an education, he stood alone in his ignorance and egotism.

At the hour for the opening of school all the pupils of the year before were present and many new ones waited to be assigned to their respective classes.

Prue and Randy were surrounded by their friends upon their arrival, and between the Babson girls stood little Hi Babson, their cousin, whose mother had determined that during his three months’ visit he should attend school.  Taking his hand, Belinda walked to the teacher’s desk with a view to introducing him.