I was plodding home from Mary's. She had hummed me out at last, and I
had tucked Tim's letter in my pocket and hobbled back to the village.
The light in the store had drawn me aside and I stopped a moment just
to look in. The store is always a fascinating place. There is always
something doing there, and I opened the door a crack to hear what was
under discussion. Catching the same refrain that troubled Elmer
Spiker, I entered.
"What of it?" I demanded, facing the company. "I don't believe there
is a man here who ever thrashed the teacher."
Theophilus Jones raised himself from the counter on which he was
leaning, and waved a lighted candle above his head.
"Here comes the teacher--make way for the teacher!"
Josiah Nummler pounded the floor with his long pole.
"See the conquerin' hero comes," he cried. "A place for him--a place
for him!" And with the point of his stick he drove the six men on the
bench so close together as to give me an excellent seat.
"Thrice welcome, noble he-ro, as Perry Thomas says!" shouted Aaron
Kallaberger, thrusting his hand into his bosom in excellent imitation
of the orator.
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