which failed to keep out the wind and rain, so that during the winter
season the closet was a cold, cheerless place.

But on the night of which we were speaking, it contained a novel piece of
lumber. Crouched behind an old barrel sat Julia, listening eagerly to the
conversation between her teacher and Mr. Miller. When it ceased she arose
from her dark hiding place and muttered to herself: "So you’ll see, will
you? You old torment! I wish the Old Scratch had got you before you ever
came here. If I dared to I’d—but no, I wouldn’t do that, bad as I am.
However, I’ll cheat you for once, you hateful limb! But what shall I do?"

She indeed was in a dilemma; but she had often boasted that she never yet
was in so straitened a spot that she could not devise some means of
extricating herself, and she relied on the Master she served to aid her in
this difficulty. She never brought her books home and as the reader will
ere this have surmised, she was in the daily habit of writing a sketch of
her lesson on foolscap, and then reading it off. When school first
commenced she had asked the privilege of sitting in her seat while
reciting and by this means she could hold the paper under her desk and
thus avoid Mr. Wilmot’s suspicion. Her lessons for the next day were
unusually long and hard, and as Mr. Miller would be present, she dared not
resort to her usual artifice, particularly after what had been said about
her "notes." She knew she never could learn all that long lesson in school
hours, neither would she fail of having it for anything. What could she
do? For some time she sat by the dying embers, with her dark face buried
in her hands, revolving in her mind the best scheme by which to outwit Mr.
Miller.

At last she rose up and a malicious smile of exultation passed over her
features. She looked at the clock and saw it was already half-past ten,