“Just stay settin’,” he growled sullenly, and she knew from his tone that he had surrendered.

“If you’ll come home to board, I won’t bother you no more, then,” he further humbled himself to add.  The loss even of the twelve dollars’ board was more than he could bear.

“It would not be safe,” answered Tillie, grimly.

“Och, it ’ll be safe enough.  I’ll leave you be.”

“It would not be safe for you.”

“Fur me?  What you talkin’?”

“If you lost your temper and struck me, I might kill you.  That’s why I came away.”

The father stared in furtive horror at the white, impassive face of his daughter.

Could this be Tillie—­his meek, long-suffering Tillie?

“Another thing,” she continued resolutely, for she had lost all fear of speaking her mind to him, “why should I pay you twelve dollars a month board, when I get my board at the store for six, because I wait on customers between times?”

Mr. Getz looked very downcast.  There was a long silence between them.

“I must go now, father.  This is the hour that I always spend in the store.”

“I’ll board you fur six, then,” he growled.

“And make me work from four in the morning until eight or nine at night?  It is easier standing in the store.  I can read when there are no customers.”

“To think I brung up a child to talk to me like this here!” He stared at her incredulously.

“The rest will turn out even worse,” Tillie prophesied with conviction, “unless you are less harsh with them.  Your harshness will drive every child you have to defy you.”

“I’ll take good care none of the others turns out like you!” he threateningly exclaimed.  “And you’ll see oncet!  You’ll find out!  You just wait!  I tried everything—­now I know what I’m doin’.  It’ll learn you!”

In the next few weeks, as nothing turned up to make good these threats, Tillie often wondered what her father had meant by them.  It was not like him to waste time in empty words.

But she was soon to learn.  One evening the doctor came over to the store to repeat to her some rumors he had heard and which he thought she ought to know.

“Tillie! your pop’s workin’ the directers to have you chased off William Penn till the April election a’ready!”

“Oh, Doc!” Tillie gasped, “how do you know?”

“That’s what the talk is.  He’s goin’ about to all of ’em whenever he can handy leave off from his work, and he’s tellin’ ’em they had ought to set that example to onruly children; and most of ‘em’s agreein’ with him.  Nathaniel Puntz he agrees with him.  Absalom he talks down on you since you won’t leave him come no more Sundays, still.  Your pop he says when your teachin’ is a loss to him instead of a help, he ain’t leavin’ you keep on.  He says when you don’t have no more money, you’ll have to come home and help him and your mom with the work.  Nathaniel Puntz he says this is a warnin’ to parents not to leave their children have too much education—­that they get high-minded that way and won’t even get married.”