“O you proud thing! just as if it wasn’t fun to give away, and I had the best of it. Now, see here, I’ve got a plan and you mustn’t say no, or I shall scold. I want something to do, and I’m going to teach you all I know; it won’t take long,” and Rose laughed as she put her arm around Phebe’s neck, and patted the smooth dark head with the kind little hand that so loved to give.

“It would be just heavenly!” and Phebe’s face shone at the mere idea; but fell again as she added wistfully, “Only I’m afraid I ought not to let you do it, Miss Rose. It will take time, and maybe the Doctor wouldn’t like it.”

“He didn’t want me to study much, but he never said a word about teaching, and I don’t believe he will mind a bit. Anyway, we can try it till he comes, so pack up your things and go right to my room and we’ll begin this very day; I’d truly like to do it, and we’ll have nice times, see if we don’t!” cried Rose eagerly.

It was a pretty sight to see Phebe bundle her humble outfit into her apron, and spring up as if the desire of her heart had suddenly been made a happy fact to her; it was a still prettier sight to see Rose run gaily on before, smiling like a good fairy as she beckoned to the other, singing as she went—

“Oh, won’t I!” answered Phebe fervently, adding, as they entered the Bower, “You are the dearest spider that ever was, and I’m the happiest fly.”

“I’m going to be very strict, so sit down in that chair and don’t say a word till school is ready to open,” ordered Rose, delighted with the prospect of such a useful and pleasant “something to do.”

So Phebe sat demurely in her place while her new teacher laid forth books and slates, a pretty inkstand and a little globe; hastily tore a bit off her big sponge, sharpened pencils with more energy than skill, and when all was ready gave a prance of satisfaction that set the pupil laughing.

“Now the school is open, and I shall hear you read, so that I may know in which class to put you, Miss Moore,” began Rose with great dignity, as she laid a book before her scholar, and sat down in the easy chair with a long rule in her hand.

Phebe did pretty well, only tripping now and then over a hard word, and pronouncing identical “identickle,” in a sober way that tickled Rose, though never a smile betrayed her. The spelling lesson which followed was rather discouraging; Phebe’s ideas of geography were very vague, and grammar was nowhere, though the pupil protested that she tried so hard to “talk nice like educated folks” that Dolly called her “a stuck- up piece who didn’t know her place.”

“Dolly’s an old goose, so don’t you mind her, for she will say ‘nater,’ ‘vittles,’ and ‘doos’ as long as she lives, and insist that they are right. You do talk very nicely, Phebe, I’ve observed it, and grammar will help you, and show you some things are right and others ain’t—are not, I mean,” added Rose, correcting herself, and feeling that she must mind her own parts of speech if she was to serve as an example for Phebe.

When the arithmetic came, the little teacher was surprised to find her scholar quicker in some things than herself, for Phebe had worked away at the columns in the butcher’s and baker’s books till she could add so quickly and correctly that Rose was amazed, and felt that in this branch the pupil would soon excel the teacher if she kept on at the same pace. Her praise cheered Phebe immensely, and they went bravely on, both getting so interested that time flew unheeded till Aunt Plenty appeared, exclaiming, as she stared at the two heads bent over one slate—

“Bless my heart, what is going on now?”