whole outfit for two dollars. I can erase most of the marks, paste down
the covers, and fix them so they look better. But I must hurry to the
joy part. I didn't stop to eat, at noon, I just ran to the Bird Woman's,
and I had lunch with her. It was salad, hot chocolate, and lovely
things, and she wants to buy most every old scrap I ever gathered. She
wants dragonflies, moths, butterflies, and he--the banker, I mean--wants
everything Indian. This very night she came to the swamp with me and
took away enough stuff to pay for the books and tuition, and to-morrow
she is going to buy some more."

Elnora laid the last arrow point in the pail and arose, shaking leaves
and bits of baked earth from her dress. She reached into her pocket,
produced her money and waved it before their wondering eyes.

"And that's the joy part!" she exulted. "Put it up in the clock till
morning, mother. That pays for the books and tuition and--" Elnora
hesitated, for she saw the nervous grasp with which her mother's fingers
closed on the bills. Then she continued, but more slowly and thinking
before she spoke.

"What I get to-morrow pays for more books and tuition, and maybe a few,
just a few, things to wear. These shoes are so dreadfully heavy and
hot, and they make such a noise on the floor. There isn't another calico
dress in the whole building, not among hundreds of us. Why, what is
that? Aunt Margaret, what are you hiding in your lap?"

She snatched the waist and shook it out, and her face was beaming. "Have
you taken to waists all fancy and buttoned in the back? I bet you this
is mine!"