that Ried should be asked to do this thing; but he found the actual
asking embarrassing, and struggled with it with flushing cheeks. Gracie
came to his aid:--

"I don't know whether I'll take lessons or not. Who wants to expose
one's ignorance? Will you teach? Must we each give a specimen of our
present attainments?"

Instantly Ried divined the reason for the question.

"No," he said, eagerly; "oh, no; I should begin with those horrors of
your childhood, pothooks or something of that sort; lines and curves,
you know. There are not many of them after all in our letters, and when
once a person has conquered them it is easy to put them together."

There was more talk, easy and social. Mr. and Mrs. Roberts, the doctor,
and Gracie seemed equally interested in the project, and questioned
young Ried, until he assured them that he began to feel like a veritable
professor. Apparently the boys were forgotten. This very fact put them
at their ease, and they listened, interested and amused over the thought
that these ladies and gentlemen wanted to go to school!

At first I do not think it occurred to one of them that he was included
in the proposal to form an writing-class.

How was it done? I am not sure that any one of the eager group of
workers could have told you afterward, so excited did they become over
this first scheme. Nobody could remember just what words were said, nor
who said them, nor whether the boys all looked equally startled when
paper and pen were put into each hand. They remembered that some shook