Rachel had been at the head of the class the evening before; therefore
she now took her station at its foot. Tom, her brother, now was
head, and for some time no change in position was made. But finally
"somebody blundered," and Rachel, who was one of the good spellers,
went up in the long line. Presently another word was missed, and now
Rachel walked to the head. Tom pushed her spitefully.
"Another mark, Rachel," said the teacher, "for that is the end of the
lesson."
The class resumed their seats, and, a few minutes after, school was
dismissed for the day.
"Good-evening," said the teacher, as Rachel and a younger sister,
a pretty, delicate child, passed him at the door. "Now, no worrying
about Christian, Rachel."
"I won't," she laughed. "I guess he'll get out. Didn't he stand up to
old Apollyon?"
"Like a good fellow," was the reply. "Hope I'll come off as well."
She looked at him inquiringly, but he had turned toward his desk, and
the sisters set out on their half-mile walk home.
Let us precede them and see what manner of home it is to which these
children belong.
The farm is a large one, the buildings substantial, and everything has
a prosperous, well-to-do look. Mr. Stillman, the owner of these broad
acres and the father of these three, Tom, Rachel, and Susy, as well
as of three more girls and another stalwart son, is a stout,
comfortable-looking man of forty-five or fifty.
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