"Only to those bringing an order from the township trustee," replied the
Professor.

"No! Oh no!" cried Elnora. "I will have them to-morrow," and gripped
her desk for support for she knew that was not true. Four books, ranging
perhaps at a dollar and a half apiece; would her mother buy them? Of
course she would not--could not.

Did not Elnora know the story of old. There was enough land, but no one
to do clearing and farm. Tax on all those acres, recently the new gravel
road tax added, the expense of living and only the work of two women to
meet all of it. She was insane to think she could come to the city to
school. Her mother had been right. The girl decided that if only she
lived to reach home, she would stay there and lead any sort of life to
avoid more of this torture. Bad as what she wished to escape had been,
it was nothing like this. She never could live down the movement that
went through the class when she inadvertently revealed the fact that she
had expected books to be furnished. Her mother would not secure them;
that settled the question.

But the end of misery is never in a hurry to come; before the day was
over the superintendent entered the room and explained that pupils from
the country were charged a tuition of twenty dollars a year. That
really was the end. Previously Elnora had canvassed a dozen methods for
securing the money for books, ranging all the way from offering to wash
the superintendent's dishes to breaking into the bank. This additional
expense made her plans so wildly impossible, there was nothing to do but
hold up her head until she was from sight.

Down the long corridor alone among hundreds, down the long street alone