BY-WAYS AND HEDGES
BY-WAYS AND HEDGES
Fernald got off the trolley car and looked about for Graham House. He did not have to look long, for on the steps of a brick building there were thirty to fifty children waiting for the settlement library to open. That event ought to happen at seven o'clock, and the illuminated dial on the fire engine house, across the street, now indicated five minutes of seven. Fernald went up the steps, through the crowd, and turned to the right into the library room. There was a confusion of noises—two or three nervous giggles and snickers, a loud shuffling of feet, and a few articulate questions.
"Where's the teacher?"
"Ain't the teacher comin'?"
"Mister, you ain't got the lady's job away from her, have yer?"
And then, apparently in derogation of the last inquiry: "Shut up, you!"
Fernald took off his coat and left it on a bench. Then he unlocked the bookcases, which were instantly surrounded by a hungry swarm. He took the boxes of card records from a shelf, and established himself with rubber stamp, pencil, and pen at the smaller table. A few children already sat about the larger table, looking at the worn copies of "Puck" and "Collier's." A freckled-faced girl, about twelve years old, came behind the table and whispered confidentially into his ear: