school myself. We all seem to be getting on pretty well. The Newbridge
people like Jane, I hear; and I think White Sands is tolerably satisfied
with your humble servant . . . all except Mr. Andrew Spencer. I met Mrs.
Peter Blewett on my way home last night and she told me she thought it
her duty to inform me that Mr. Spencer didn't approve of my methods."

"Have you ever noticed," asked Anne reflectively, "that when people
say it is their duty to tell you a certain thing you may prepare for
something disagreeable? Why is it that they never seem to think it a
duty to tell you the pleasant things they hear about you? Mrs. H. B.
DonNELL called at the school again yesterday and told me she thought
it HER duty to inform me that Mrs. Harmon Andrew didn't approve of
my reading fairy tales to the children, and that Mr. Rogerson thought
Prillie wasn't coming on fast enough in arithmetic. If Prillie would
spend less time making eyes at the boys over her slate she might do
better. I feel quite sure that Jack Gillis works her class sums for her,
though I've never been able to catch him red-handed."

"Have you succeeded in reconciling Mrs. DonNELL's hopeful son to his
saintly name?"

"Yes," laughed Anne, "but it was really a difficult task. At first, when
I called him 'St. Clair' he would not take the least notice until I'd
spoken two or three times; and then, when the other boys nudged him, he
would look up with such an aggrieved air, as if I'd called him John or
Charlie and he couldn't be expected to know I meant him. So I kept
him in after school one night and talked kindly to him. I told him his
mother wished me to call him St. Clair and I couldn't go against her
wishes. He saw it when it was all explained out . . . he's really a very
reasonable little fellow . . . and he said _I_ could call him St. Clair