Calling up the tyros in geography, she took the smallest, or “Earth,” as she designated it, and while causing it to perform the diurnal motion, she carried it slowly round the larger, or “Sun,” as she termed it; thus illustrating the combined movements of our globe.  Even the dullest could not fail to comprehend; and well satisfied with the result of her experiment, she carefully put her planets by in one corner of the schoolroom, and proceeded with her questions.  The imperfect recitation finished, Mary glanced across the room, hoping her cousin’s patience was not so tried, and some brilliant coruscations in that direction fixed her attention.  Florence had dropped her aching head on the desk in front, shading her eyes with her hand; before her, in dark array, stood some half dozen small boys just beginning to spell.  Each held a book containing illustrations of various well-known articles and animals, having the name beneath.

“U-r-n—­teapot.”  Elliot Carlton, whose seat was near, gave a suppressed giggle.  Florence looked around inquiringly, then dropt her head again on her hand, bidding the boy “spell on.”

“S-t-a-g—­goat.”  Elliot crammed his handkerchief into his mouth, and Mary smiled.

“W-i-g—­curly head.”  Florence was effectually roused this time by a shout of laughter from Elliot, in which he was joined by Mary, and Dr. Bryant, who had just entered and was standing in such a position that no one had perceived him.

“Really, Miss Hamilton, I must congratulate you on the extraordinary progress your pupils make; I was not aware that you cultivated their powers of comparison in connection with the rudiments of orthoepy,”

“To what do you allude, Doctor; I am scarcely conscious of what passes around me this morning,” said Florence, wearily pressing her hand across her aching brow.

“I am not surprised that you are somewhat stunned, though, after all,” he continued, pointing to the picture of a ringleted pate, “the little fellow was not far wrong, for this wig is incontestibly a curly head,”

With a faint smile which passed as quickly as it came, she dismissed the class with an additional lesson.

“I am sorry to see you suffering so much this morning,” said Frank, seating himself beside her:  “and should certainly not recommend this schoolroom as an antidote to nervous attacks.  Miss Mary, why do you allow your cousin to overtax her strength?  However, I bring you good news.  We have had an engagement at Gonzales, and, thank Heaven, are victorious.  The brave five hundred sent to preserve the field-piece there, encountered double their number of the enemy, and not only saved the cannon, but scattered the Mexicans in all directions.  Our brave band are marching to Coliad, where they expect to supply themselves and comrades with ammunition; they have probably taken the magazine before this, and are returning.”

“Thank Heaven we have triumphed!” cried Mary, fervently clasping her hands; “but oh! if the tide should turn this way, what will become of us?  The Mexicans are numerous here, and the Alamo strongly fortified and in their possession.”  She turned her eyes inquiringly on Frank, and started as she met the earnest, searching expression of his, bent full upon her face.