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At last it was ti, and in soot her class out of the

room Then she faced the disorderly litter of blotted,

uncorrected books, of broken rulers and chewed pens And her

heart sank in sickness Thedeeper

The trouble went on and on, day after day She had always

piles of books totask that she loathed And the work got worse and

worse When she tried to flatter herself that the co, she had to see that the

handwriting grew raceful She tried what she could, but it was of no use

But she was not going to take it seriously Why should she? Why

should she say to herself, that it mattered, if she failed to

teach a class to write perfectly neatly? Why should she take the

blame unto herself?

Pay day cas and

one penny She was very proud that day She had never had so

much money before And she had earned it all herself She sat on

the top of the traht

lose it She felt so established and strong, because of it And

when she got home she said to her mother: "It is pay day to-day, mother"

"Ay," said her s on the table

"That isit lie