A Cry in the Wilderness

by Mary E. Waller

"Don't you want me to help you? Old French is n't so easy sometimes," he asked, coaxing.

"Oh, no; I 've help enough in Mr. Ewart. He knows it a good deal better than you do."

"'Sass'," was Jamie's sole reply, a word he had borrowed from Cale's vocabulary; he used it to characterize my attitude towards his acquirements.

I worked on in silence till the books were housed; then I drew a long breath of satisfaction.

"What's that sigh for?" was the demand from the other side of the door.

"For a noble deed accomplished, my friend."

"Humph!"

"Now move away your chair, I 'm coming out."

"Come on."

There was no movement of the chair, and, to punish him, I locked the door on the inside and went out through the kitchen up to my room.