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Though she did not give in, she never succeeded Her class

was getting in worse condition, she knew herself less and less

secure in teaching it Ought she to withdraw and go ho place, and so retire?

Her very life was at test

She went on doggedly, blindly, waiting for a crisis Mr

Harby had now begun to persecute her Her dread and hatred of

hier She was afraid he was

going to bully her and destroy her He began to persecute her

because she could not keep her class in proper condition,

because her class was the weak link in the chain which made up

the school

One of the offences was that her class was noisy and

disturbed Mr Harby, as he took Standard Seven at the other end

of the roo in a the scholars So snore it She corrected the writing as she went

"When you say 'their fur is brown', how do you write

'their'?" she asked

There was a little pause; the boys were always jeeringly

backward in answering They had begun to jeer at her authority

altogether

"Please, miss, t-h-e-i-r", spelled a lad, loudly, with a note