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“Lawsy,’ Ann,” protested Mrs. Coyle indignantly, “their pappy and me air terrible pleased with what they’ve larned, and I don’t see no call fer you ter be so powerful ornery. If all your six boys hed been gals I’ll be bound thar couldn’t one of ’em make a gown like thet Tally’s wearin’, and she tuk every stitch herself. As fer Mart, you’ll know what he kin do ’fore long, I reckon.”

Mrs. Coyle and her sister-in-law did not agree on the subject of education. The latter’s family of boys had grown to man’s estate and married without having mastered the second reader. For once Sam Coyle did not come to his sister’s aid. Although he had no intention of allowing his children to return to school, he was swelling with pride at their changed appearance and his tongue was ready to wage a sharp battle in the cause of “larnin’.”

Failing to secure an ally, the old dame prudently changed her tactics. “Hit air purty fair work,” she admitted in a conciliatory tone, scrutinizing the hem of Talitha’s gown. “But I don’t set much store by thet kind o’ goods; hit can’t hold a candle ter homespun when hit comes ter wear. If I war you, I’d put Tally ter the loom; she air old ’nough ter be larnin’ somethin’ of more ’count.”