Story of a Tillie’s slender little body thrilled with a peculiar ecstasy as she stepped upon the platform and felt her close proximity to the teacher—so close that she could catch the sweet, wonderful fragrance of her clothes and see the heave and fall of her bosom. Once Tillie’s head had rested against that motherly bosom. She had fainted in school one morning after a day and evening of hard, hard work in her father’s celery-beds, followed by a chastisement for being caught with a 'story-book'; and she had come out of her faint to find herself in the heaven of sitting on Miss Margaret’s lap, her head against her breast and Miss Margaret’s soft hand smoothing her cheek and hair. And it was in that blissful moment that Tillie had discovered, for the first time in her young existence, that life could be worth while. Not within her memory had any one ever caressed her before, or spoken to her tenderly, and in that fascinating tone of anxious concern.