During the summer preceding Amanda’s departure for school there was pleasant excitement at the Reist farm. Millie was proud of the fact that Amanda was “goin’ to Millersville till fall” and lost no oppor-tunity to mention it whenever a friend or neighbor dropped in for a chat.
Aunt Rebecca did not approve of too much education. “Of course,” she put it, “you’re spendin’ your own money for this Millersville goin’, but I think you’d do better if you put it to bank and give it to Amanda when she gets married, once. This here rutchin’ round to school so long is all for nothin’. I guess she’s smart enough to teach country school without goin’ to Millersville yet.”
However, her protests fell heedlessly on the ears of those most concerned and when the preparation of new clothes began Aunt Rebecca was the first to offer her help. “It’s all for nothin’, this school learnin’, but if she’s goin’ anyhow I can just as well as not help with the sewin’,” she announced and spent a few weeks at the Reist farm, giving valuable aid in the making of Amanda’s school outfit.
Those two weeks were long ones to Philip, who had scant patience with the querulous old aunt. But Amanda, since she had glimpsed the girlhood romance of the woman, had a kindlier feeling for her and could smile at the faultfinding or at least run away from it without retort if it became too vexatious.
Crow Hill was only an hour’s ride from the school at Millersville, so Amanda spent most of her weekends at home. Each time she had wonderful tales to tell, at least they seemed wonderful to the little group at the Reist farmhouse. Mrs. Reist and Uncle Amos, denied in their youth of more than a very meagre education, took just pride in the girl who was pursuing the road to knowledge. Philip, boylike, expressed no pride in his sister, but he listened attentively to her stories of how the older students played pranks on the newcomers. Millie was proud of having our Amanda away at school and did not hesitate to express her pride. She felt sure that before the girl’s three years’ course was completed the name of Amanda Reist would shine above all others on the pages of the Millersville Normal School records.
“Oh, I’ve learned a few things about human nature,” said Amanda on her second visit home. “You know I told you last week how nice the older girls are to the new ones. A crowd of Seniors came into our room the other day and they were lovely! One of them told me she adored red hair and she just knew all the girls were going to love me because I have such a sweet face and I’m so dear--she emphasized every other word! I wondered what ailed her. She didn’t know me well enough to talk like that. Before they left she began to talk about the Page Literary Society--’Dear, we’re all Pageites, and it’s the best, finest society in the school. We do have such good times. You ought to join. All the very nicest girls of the school are in it.’ I promised to think it over. Well, soon after they left another bunch of girls came into our room and they were just as sweet to us. By and by one of them said, ’Dear, we’re all in the Normal Literary Society. It’s the best society in the school; all the very nicest girls belong to it. You should join it.’”
“Ha, electioneering, was they!” said Uncle Amos, laughing. “Well, leave it to the women. When they get the vote once we men got to pony up. But which society did you join?”
“Neither. I’m going to wait a while and while I’m waiting I’m having a glorious time. The Pageites invited me to a fudge party one night, the Normalites took me for a long walk, a Pageite treated me to icecream soda one day and a Normalite gave me some real home-made cake the same afternoon. It’s great to be on the fence when both sides are coaxing you to jump their way.”
“Well,” said Millie, her face glowing with interest and pride in the girl, “if you ain’t the funniest! I just bet them girls all want you to come their way. But what kind o’ meals do you get?”
“Good, Millie. Of course, though, I haven’t any cellar to go to for pie or any cooky crock filled with sand-tarts with shellbarks on the top.”