He glanced at the clock on the mantel, then turned to speak to Tillie.
"Are yous home long a'ready?" he inquired.
"Not so very long," Tillie answered with an apprehensive glance at the clock.
"You're some late," he said, with a threatening little nod as he drew up a chair in front of the teacher.
"It's my fault," Miss Margaret hastened to say, "I made the children wait to bring me out here."
"Well," conceded Mr. Getz, "then we'll leave it go this time."
Miss Margaret now bent her mind to the difficult task of persuading this stubborn Pennsylvania Dutchman to accept her views as to what was for the highest and best good of his daughter. Eloquently she pointed out to him that Tillie being a child of unusual ability, it would be much better for her to have an education than to be forced to spend her days in farm-house drudgery.
But her point of view, being entirely novel, did not at all appeal to him.
"I never thought to leave her go to school after she was twelve. That's long enough fur a girl; a female don't need much book-knowledge. It don't help her none to keep house fur her mister."
"But she could become a teacher and then she could earn money," Miss Margaret argued, knowing the force of this point with Mr. Getz.