Mr. Gates kicked his feet against the andirons to rid them of clay and snow.
"Cold day," he remarked, settling his coon-skin cap more firmly on his head. "What's this I hear about the new teacher?"
"Well, what?" snapped the squire, looking around.
"Some say she's dead sot on gettin' up them doin's on Washington's Birthday."
"MR. GATES KICKED HIS FEET AGAINST THE ANDIRONS"
"Well, s'pose she is?" said the squire. "She ain't askin' nothin' but the schoolhouse for an evening, and I've got power to let her have that. I'm school agent, ain't I?"
"I don't say the contrary. But to my way of thinkin', she's just a-wastin' time over a lot of foolishness. Hey, Schmidt?"
"Yah, das ist so!" assented the man in the rocking-chair, as he took his pipe from his mouth. "I tolt mein poy I shust dook him oudt of school and put him to voork ven I hear some more of dose grazy idees."