better than the rest of the class that I hate to have her lose her time.
Just hear her read the rest of her little story, will you, and don't
help her unless she's really stuck."

Elizabeth Ann was startled by this request, which was unheard of in her
experience. She was very uncertain of herself as she sat down on a low
chair in the corner of the schoolroom away from the desks, with the
little child leaning on her knee. And yet she was not exactly afraid,
either, because Molly was such a shy little roly-poly thing, with her
crop of yellow curls, and her bright blue eyes very serious as she
looked hard at the book and began: "Once there was a rat. It was a fat
rat." No, it was impossible to be frightened of such a funny little
girl, who peered so earnestly into the older child's face to make sure
she was doing her lesson right.

Elizabeth Ann had never had anything to do with children younger than
herself, and she felt very pleased and important to have anybody look up
to HER! She put her arm around Molly's square, warm, fat little body and
gave her a squeeze. Molly snuggled up closer; and the two children put
their heads together over the printed page, Elizabeth Ann correcting
Molly very gently indeed when she made a mistake, and waiting patiently
when she hesitated. She had so fresh in her mind her own suffering from
quick, nervous corrections that she took the greatest pleasure in
speaking quietly and not interrupting the little girl more than was
necessary. It was fun to teach, LOTS of fun! She was surprised when the
teacher said, "Well, Betsy, how did Molly do?"

"Oh, is the time up?" said Elizabeth Ann. "Why, she does beautifully, I
think, for such a little thing."