cket, he held his dismissal from Hillsboro school: "On account of age," it said. Next morning, at nine o'clock, the new tea

lonely star, and over him the half moon, like a slice; and he heard the autumn wind, steady and cold. "You fields," he said, "you trees, you meadows and little paths, I do not believe you wanted to dismiss me. You must have enjoyed the daisy chains my pupils used to weave for you in the spring.

fireflies, fallen among the leaves. He said to them, "Little creatures, my flame is also spent. But I do not intend, like you, to lie by the roadside in the wind, an

his head, peered down at him between the branches, as he stepped from shadow into moonlight, and again into shadow. Under the trees the dry, fallen leaves stirred about his fe

ted lamp, pale yellow in the early twilight, drew him from the road, across the fields. As he turned

old man,