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 XXIII

so kindly a disposition toward Youth as has brought our Mayor forward in Branton Hills’ history, may, without warning, run across an occasion which holds an opportunity for adding a bit of joy in living. So, as Gadsby stood, on a chilly fall day, in front of that big glass building which was built for a city florist, admiring a charming display of blossoming plants, a small girl, still in Grammar School., [sic] said, shyly:—

“Hulloa.”

“Hulloa, you. School out?”

“On Saturdays, school is always out.”

“That’s so; it is Saturday, isn’t it? Going in?”

“In!! My, no! I can’t go into that fairyland!”

“No? Why not, pray?”

“Aw! I dunno; but nobody has took kids in.”

“Took? Took? Say, young lady, you must study your grammar book. Branton Hills schools don’t”

“Uh-huh; I know. But a kid just can’t—”