Are Parents People?

The girls marched into chapel singing Jerusalem the Golden. Some of the voices were shrill and piping, and some were clear and sweet; but all had that peculiar young freshness which always makes old hearts ache, and which now drew tears to the eyes of many visiting parents looking down from the gallery, and trying not to crane their necks conspicuously when their own offspring appeared in the aisle below.On Sundays the whole school came out in blue serge and black velvet tam-o' -shanters. The little girls marched first-some as young as eleven years-and as they came from the main school buildings and marched up the long aisle they were holding the high notes, "Jerusalem the golden," and their voices sounded like young birds', before the older girls came crashing in withthe next line, "With milk and honey blest." They marched quickly-it was a tradition of the school divided to right and left, and filed into their appointedplaces.Last of all came the tall senior president: and beside her a little figure that hardly reached her shoulder, and seemed as if one of the younger children were out of place; yet this was an important figure in the life of the school-Lita Hazlitt, the chairman of the self-government committee.