14 GRAY LADY AND THE BIRDS 
strapped her box. But it evidently was not intended that 
the poorteacher should lunch that day, for suddenly the door 
flew open and the weather-beaten face of Joel Hanks, the 
carrier who had the forenoon mail route, peered anx- 
lously in. 
“You here, Miss Wilde?” he called anxiously. ‘I’m 
glad yer hain’t gone up to the house for your nooning, cause 
I clean fergot when I come by up, but yer Ma’s feelin’ 
extra poorly and uneasy, and she thought mebbe you 
could come back along with me instead of waiting till 
night. I’m goin’ to eat over to Todd’s and I can stop 
back for you close to one if you can arrange to go.” 
“Oh, I wish I had known it before the children went to 
dinner,’’ she cried, clasping her hands together nervously 
and dropping the box, out of which her lunch rolled to the 
floor, amid the damp that had been made by wet coats, 
overshoes, and dripping umbrellas. ‘As it is, when the 
children come back, I cannot send them right home again, 
for some have a long walk. If it wasn’t for Tommy 
Todd, I could leave Sarah Barnes for monitor; but there 
are those rats, and the school board does not like me to 
shorten hours so soon after vacation. It’s too late for me 
to go over for Mrs. Bradford, or I know that she would 
help me by coming as she did several times last spring.” 
“Sorry I couldn’t stop this morning, but I come by the 
lower road. Wall, mebbe you’ll think out some way and 
I'll stop back a bit a’ter one,” Joel said cheerfully, going 
back to his covered cart and chirping to his wise old horse, 
who, though he was gaunt and had only one good eye, 
knew every letter-box on the route and solemnly zig- 
zagged across the road from one to the other on his way up 
