“Then what did cousin Stephen do, but repeat, with his eyes fixed on me, this next verse: ‘Let him that thinketh he standeth, take heed lest he fall.’
“I felt my cheeks grow red. I wished I could have a chance to show Steenie how truly noble I was; for I saw he didn’t believe it.
“The very next week something happened which made me think of those two verses again.
“I went to the little village school, while I was at grandfather’s; and Priscilla Howe went too. Priscilla was a bound girl whom my grandfather was bringing up.”
“Bound!” exclaimed little Sarah, in startled tone; Grandma had to stop and explain to her what that meant. Then she continued her story.
“I didn’t like Priscilla very well; I hardly knew why; she was a still, cold, little thing, a trifle sullen, perhaps; at least I thought so, and I didn’t have much to do with her. On Wednesday afternoons we had an exercise in school which I always liked.
“The afternoon before, the teacher would read to us a certain article, generally a description of something; a great meeting, maybe, or a fire, or a storm; we were to take what notes we pleased, while the reading was going on. Then the next day we were to bring in our written account of that same thing; using as few words, and as short ones, as we could, to get in all the facts; and the scholar who brought in the best paper, with the fewest mistakes in spelling, and punctuation, wore home the medal for composition. Now I had a good memory, and it seemed to come natural to me to write out things; so I liked this exercise. But poor Priscilla hated it; she could not remember half a dozen things in the article; and couldn’t express them. Tuesday evening grandfather let me sit in his study while I wrote out my exercise. The story was a very nice one, and I felt sure of getting the medal.
“The next morning, when I went to get ready for school, my exercise was nowhere to be found; I made a great noise about it, and every one in the house helped me look; but the exercise was gone. I tried to get time to write another, but I couldn’t, and I missed the medal of course; and cried bitterly. The next day I found the exercise; where, do you think?”
“Where?” asked all the Burtons at once, in tones of eager interest and sympathy.
“Down in the bottom of Priscilla’s mending basket, all torn into little tiny bits, less than half an inch square!”