"I'm going to keep my sense of humor and my faith in things in spite of

anything that comes to me," she promised herself, "even if they do have

to give me boneset tea to jerk me up a bit!" She laughed at Millie's

faith in the boneset tea. "I hope it also takes the meanness and hate

out of my heart. Why, just now I hate Lyman! If he really cared for me

I'd feel sorry for him, but he doesn't love me, he just wants to marry

me because long ago he decided he would do so some day."

In spite of her determination to be philosophical and cheerful, the

memory of Lyman's threat returned to her at times in a baffling way.

What could he mean? How could he harm her? His father was a director of

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the Crow Hill school, but pshaw! One director couldn't put her out of

her place in the school!

Lyman Mertzheimer had only a few days to carry out the plan formulated

in his angry mind as he walked home after the tilt with Amanda.

"I'll show her," he snorted, "the disagreeable thing! I'll show her

what can happen when she turns down a Mertzheimer! The very name

Mertzheimer means wealth and high standing! And she puts up her nose

and tosses her red head at me and tells me she won't have me! She'll

see what a Mertzheimer can do!"

The elder Mertzheimer, school director, was not unlike his son. When

the young man came to him with an exaggerated tale of the contemptible

way Amanda had treated him, thrown him over as though he were nobody,

Mr. Mertzheimer, Senior, sympathized with his aggrieved son and stormed

and vowed he'd see if he'd vote for that red-headed snip of a teacher

next year. The Reists thought they were somebody, anyhow, and they had

no more money than he had, perhaps not so much. What right had she to

be ugly to Lyman when he did her the honor to ask her to marry him? The

snip! He'd show her!

"But one vote won't keep her out of the school," said Lyman with

diplomatic unconcern.

"Leave it to me, boy! I'll talk a few of them over. There was some

complaint last year about her not doing things like other school-

teachers round here, and her not being a strict enough teacher. She

teaches geography with a lot of dirt and water. She has the young ones

scurrying round the woods and fields with nets to catch butterflies.

And she lugs in a lot of corn husk and shows them how to make a few

dinky baskets and thinks she's doing some wonderful thing. For all that

she draws her salary and gets away with all that tomfoolery--guess

because she can smile and humbug some people--them red-headed women are

all like that, boy. She's not the right teacher for Crow Hill school

and I'm going to make several people see it. Then let her twiddle her

thumbs till she gets a place so near home and as nice as the Crow Hill

school!"