"And talk fast, Treasure. You are so poky. I could tell six volumes while you get into the introduction."
"There isn't any introduction to it," said Treasure in her gentle voice. "You know, father, when you go over the lesson with us on Saturday night, you bring out a lot of good points that Miss Munsing does not think of."
"Yes."
"Of course, it would not be right for me to speak up and tell things she does not know—it would sound smarty—as if I were trying to show off. So I just ask questions, and sometimes she does not know the answers. Then the whole class gets into a discussion, and then I say, 'Maybe it is this way,' and I tell what you have said, and she says, 'Yes, that is it, of course.' And sometimes I think of questions that nobody has explained, and I ask—and she can't answer. This morning she got rather red, and looked nervous. But she is a dear thing, and I don't expect her to know as much as a preacher, of course. And I hope you will make her keep the class, for we could never get another teacher like her. I am truly sorry, father, and I will promise never to ask another question."
Doris flushed suddenly. "But—she ought to be free to ask questions, father. Miss Munsing should study the lessons more, and find the answers."
"I suppose it is not just pleasant for a teacher to have her scholars wiser than she," said their father slowly. "I can see how she feels about it."
"But she ought to study more," insisted Doris.
"I shall never ask anything else," declared Treasure. "We can't give up Miss Munsing. I know the rest would rather have her than some one else who could answer the whole Bible. I think I prefer her myself."
"Finish your dinner now, girls; I shall try to think of some way to manage," said Mr. Artman quietly.