“The school house went up in short order, and one of the Kinsley boys came by on a Saturday, and he says, says he:  ’Jordan, ther school’ll be open Monday mornin,’ and the teacher’ll be down for supper on Monday night.’  ’Send him ‘long,’ says I. I thought he gin a queer kind o’ a igiotic laugh, but he said, ‘All right,’ and rid along.  I went in through ther kitchen and told Aunt Sue—­yo’ remember our old unbleached cook—­that ther school master war a-comin’ to board on Monday night, and she must spread herself.

“Her nose went up inter ther air, and she said:  ’H’m, guess what we gets every day’s good ‘nuff for one o’ doze poor white trash teachurs.’

“Well, ’long ‘bout five o’clock Monday evenin’ I war readin’ ther paper, when I hearn a knock at ther door, and same time I hearn Bolus—­thet’s the big collie, yo’ remember—­kinder whinin’ as though he war glad, and bangin the door with his tail.  I thought maybe some of ther boys is cum back; maybe it’s Jim Sedgwick, and I gets up and goes and throws ther door open, and was jest openin’ my mouth to say ‘Hello!’ when I got paralyzed.

“Thar war standin thar a little woman in a black frock thet fitted her like a prayer on a nun’s lips.  She had on a white collar, and when she looked up at me yo’ never seen sich a majestical pair o’ eyes, and I said ter myself, ‘Blast my broad horns, but I never seen so takin’ a face in all my life.’

“Jest pale sorter, barrin’ a little flush that creeped up over her face, as yo’ might expect would cum ter thet stater—­whatyer call it in ther play?—­Gal—­, O, yes, Galerteer, thet’s it—­when weakenen’ to thet feller’s pleadin’, she shakes ther stone and begins ter warm up ter his prayer.  She had sorrerful eyes ter look inter, ’cept when she smiled, and then, Jim, hed yer seen thet smile once you’d never sarched fur no more bernanzers.

“Her nose was straight ez a blood hoss’s fore-arm, teeth perfect, and white as ther starlight; her har war between yaller and tawny, and lots of it.  Jest then ther sun shone agin it, and my thot war, ’A smoked topaz ez big ez a dinner bucket war fused and then spun inter threads ter make thet har.’

“And when she looked up and said, inquirin’ like, ‘Mr. Jordan?’ her voice war sweeter’n yo’ ever hearn a turtle dove when callin’ her mate ter breakfast.

“‘Thet’s me,’ sez I.

“She held out her hand thet war soft an’ white an’ shapely, an’ warm, and sed: 

“’I am Mrs. Margaret Hazleton, ther teacher in ther school, and I was directed here.’

“I thot I should o’ drop through ther floo’, but I braced up—­waiter, another bottle—­ez I war sayin’, I braced up and said, ’Bless me, madam, I war expectin’ ther teacher’d be a man; but walk right in, we’ll do ther best we ken for yer.’

“I called Aunt Sue, and told her to show ther lady whar ter dump her fixins,’ and der yo’ believe it, thet dog Bolus, thet war generally mighty questionin’ ’bout strangers, set down ‘nd thumped ther floo’ like he war tickled ter death.