VOL. X.

THE LADY SUPERVISOR. OU may tuck the lap robe a little closer about my lame knee, daughter. 'Yes, that's it. And now my crutch and cane. Lucky every man doesn't have to make such a parade as this in going to town meeting-eh, doctor? I'm thinking there'd be a falling off in voters."

"You know I'd take your place in a minute, if I could," said Miss Wentworth, roguishly handing him his crutch; "but the law doesn't admit women and idiots to the polls.

"Women, no; as to the idiots I'm not so sure," responded her father humorously; "it's my private opinion, doctor, a round number of those crept in at our last town election. See what a set of sticks they put up for school committee !"

"The fact is, Mr. Wentworth, the schools miss you," said Dr. Rodman, slowly drawing on his gloves. "There isn't a man in the village capable of filling your place." "Elect a woman, then," retorted the squire quickly. "Do something. Our present educational system is a disgrace to us.

"Elect your daughter, for instance," said the doctor, with a sportive glance at the comely woman in the doorway. "She's the only lady here competent for the office-and yet she wouldn't take it."

"Very true. But why shouldn't I-if I pleased?" asked she, archly.

"Why? You couldn't do it. You've too much delicacy. No lady of refinement would consent to be thrust into so public a position."

"Not if she could serve the rising generation by the means?" interposed the squire. "Pooh! pooh! I call that narrow, doctor. But what are we waiting for? I'm ready." The doctor made a feint of gathering up the reins, to which the horse responded merely by a knowing wink. That his master should really be in haste to leave Miss Wentworth was unprecedented and transcended belief.

NO. 3.

"What do you say, Zilnha? Am I narrow? Don't you think men should fight their own battles ?"

"Certainly, if they can. But if they get worsted, women may be very good, I suppose, and help them."

"Of course they may and do help in many ways," said the doctor, amiably. "Not by drudging in public offices, though. For my part, I should lose all regard for a lady who would accept such a masculine position. If there is anything that I utterly abhor," he added, with energy, "it is a 'strong-minded

woman.

"Behold how distinguished men differ," said Miss Wentworth, mischievously. "King Solomon now, liked them. Do you remember his enthusiastic description of a model woman? Here's a part of it: She considereth a field and buyeth it; with the fruit of her hand she planteth a vineyard.'"

"Dreadful! Still, let us be charitable. King Solomon lived in heathenish days, before women were exalted to their true sphere," laughed Dr. Rodman, driving away at last reluctantly.

Miss Wentworth turned back to the parlor, smiling. She was not particularly interested in the topic, but there was something amusing in the doctor's warmth in discussing it. What deep prejudices he had! Well, she didn't mind; she understood dealing with them. And as she smoothed her wind-blown crimps at the glass, she smiled again in a satisfied way. To have the power of pleasing the fastidious doctor was a matter for self-congratulation, she thought. She wondered, though, what he saw in her to fancy. Others did not wonder. It would have been a greater marvel, indeed, if Dr. Rodman had not fancied this sweet-voiced, regal woman, whom he had come to know so intimately.

It was nearly a year now since she had been summoned from her teacher's desk in New York to the bedside of her dying mother, and in his capacity of physician he had met her almost daily then, and afterwards

during her father's tedious illness that ensued. Seeing her thus in her home life, he could not fail to be charmed by her gracious, womanly ways-for, spite of his thirty-five years of bachelorhood, he was not an unsusceptible man-and he had become attached to her. Of course she was quite aware of this. What woman of twenty-eight, with her wits about her, would not have been, where the gentleman's eyes spoke so eloquently? Yet she had so perversely evaded an unequivocal declaration. It was pleasant to be conscious of the doctor's preference, but she was in no haste to be assured of it. This was the state of affairs between them on that bright afternoon when Dr. Rodman had called quite filially to take her invalid father to the March meeting.

Giving a dexterous twist to the blue necktie so becoming to her fair complexion, Miss Wentworth turned from the glass and sat down to read one of Agassiz's lectures. She was fond of natural sciences, and rather learned in that direction, having taught them constantly for the past seven years. Just as she was deeply interested in the glacial theory there came a sharp ringing of the door-bell, and simultaneously from the kitchen the swish of a mop, which intimated that the maid Climena was yet splashing in Monday's slough. Miss Wentworth answered the bell herself. Two exceedingly smiling gentlemen stood upon the piazza, and at the sight of her one chuckled outright. That was Mr. Hinks, the town register.

We've called, Miss Wentworth," began he and Judge Kenton in a breath-"we've called-" And there they broke down, each courteously gesticulating to the other to proceed.

Miss Wentworth perceived they had called and, wondering they should seem so amused about it, asked them in.

"The fact is, we've come on a novel mission," said the judge, with a frank laugh. "We are here to congratulate you on your recent election."

"Yes, mum; we've elected you supervisor of schools, mum," put in Mr. Hinks, shaking with suppressed laughter. "It was a unanimous vote. Tremendous honor to a lady, mum, really.",

"Elected me supervisor!" cried Miss Wentworth, in a tone of dismay that nearly convulsed the little register.

"He hasn't the time to devote." "You, then, Judge Kenton ?" "I haven't the time either. Besides, I honestly believe we shouldn't succeed as well in the schools as you would. You're fresh from teaching; we've forgotten the ropes.'

Oh, I can't serve, Judge Kenton, I haven't the courage. Do elect some gentleman."

"We can't agree upon one, mum. You're the popular choice," said the register, with the coaxing air of a shop-keeper anxious to drive a bargain. "You'd better take the place, Miss Wentworth. Now do!"

"Don't tempt me out of my sphere," she cried, playfully seizing needle and thread. Don't you men say it's woman's mission to sew on buttons ? You can't deny it."

"Cleverly turned, but we can't excuse you on that plea, Miss Zilpha," smiled the judge. "Think of your superior education, my child, and your experience in teaching. Can't you be public-spirited enough to give us the benefit of these?"

Miss Wentworth began to waver. "But the notoriety, Judge Kenton. I should shrink from it."

"Nonsense, Zilpha, a girl of your sense must be more progressive. Don't shrink from doing us a favor, I beg. We men will pledge ourselves to help you, if we can in any way."

Miss Wentworth drew in her breath. Should she do the distasteful thing? Ought she to do it? Once having undertaken the task, she had an inward conviction that she could perform it well; but was it her duty to undertake it? And there was Dr. Rodman. Must she render herself an object of aversion to him He had expressed the deepest repugnance to this very step she was considering.

"What is my father's wish, Judge Kenton? Did you talk with him on the subject?"

"Yes. He was surprised when your name was proposed, and much gratified. He would be glad if you were willing to accept the supervisorship. You know how he bears the welfare of the town on his heart."

"I will accept," said Miss Wentworth, hastily, feeling as if a mountain were about to topple over upon her.

When her acceptance was announced at the meeting, it was received with hearty cheers, but Dr. Rodman, assisting in counting votes, frowned ominously, and lost his reckoning.