There was a tradition that the day of the State Board examinations was always fair. This year it was not to be belied. Sarah, who had been awake since before daylight, watched the sun rise, clear and bright, as she dressed. Miss Ellingwood slept peacefully in her room next door, and the morning sweeping and dusting in the halls had not yet begun when Sarah sat down on the window-seat with a pile of books before her. There were a dozen things at which she wished to take a final look. Even her confidence in the Wenner ability to spell had vanished under the strain of the last months, and she meant to glance rapidly through at least half the book. The thought of Arithmetic plunged her into despair; there was no use in trying to review that. But she could take a final look at the Geography and the Physiology.

Then, strange to say, she did nothing but sit still and look out over the dewy campus until it was time to go to breakfast.

"How do you feel?" asked Miss Ellingwood.

"Scared," answered Sarah, trying to smile.

The members of the Board breakfasted at the Secretary's table, which was next to Miss Ellingwood's. Sarah, who could not keep her eyes away from them, felt that there was a terrible menace in the way they laughed and joked with one another. Only exceedingly hard-hearted persons could laugh that way just before they assisted in such an inquisition as their examinations were said to be. There was one tall, brown-bearded man at the head of the table, who looked about smilingly at the whole dining-room; he doubtless imposed the most difficult questions of all He made Sarah tremble.

If only the day were over and she knew finally and certainly that she had not passed! They would be glad to see her at home, whether she succeeded or failed; and she could hide her stupid head at the farm, and the twins could have her chance. She tried not to think of how wretched she would be if she could never come back. She would never see Ethel and Gertrude again, she would never be able to think of the school with pleasure. She remembered often that Laura had said that coming back to school was like coming back home. And Laura did not have as many ties as Sarah had and would have. Both William and Laura had graduated there, and eventually the twins and Albert would come too. Was she to disgrace them all?

Suddenly her sad meditations were interrupted by Miss Ellingwood.

"You must eat, Sarah. Finish your coffee at least. See, they don't look so awesome, do they?"

The brown-bearded Chairman heard, and turned to Miss Ellingwood and laughed, and then went on to speak in a round, friendly voice. He had a strangely familiar accent. He spoke a little as Sarah's father had spoken, and as Henry Ebert and Uncle Daniel and the other Pennsylvania Germans spoke. Sarah thought that he might have come from Spring Grove itself, and was not far wrong, for he had learned his Pennsylvania-German accent in another little town when he was a boy, and would never lose it. He had evidently, also, the Pennsylvania-German fondness for a joke.

"Is she afraid we'll eat her up, Miss Ellingwood?" he asked; at which a good deal of Sarah's fright evaporated.

The chapel exercises were more solemn than usual. It was a little like a service before going into battle. At the door, Sarah found Dr. Brownlee waiting to talk to her. He felt her pulse, and laughed at her frightened "Did you ever have to take such examinations?" and told her that if she didn't pass, he'd give her still more bitter medicine. Sarah almost skipped as she ran along the board-walk to the recitation building.

The seats, which were assigned in the largest class-rooms, were not given according to classes. Sarah was in the back of the great Drawing-room, a Junior boy beside her, a Senior in front of her. Clutched in her hot hand was her fountain-pen, a blotter, three newly sharpened pencils, and two erasers. If Sarah failed, it was not to be for lack of tools. Even Edward Ellis, who sat next her, was subdued, and gave her only a faint smile as she arranged them on her desk.

In the front of the great room, Dr. Ellis talked to the Board of Examiners. This was the main examination room; from here all the papers were given out, and thither they were brought when collected. Sarah watched the men absently, half of her mind trying to bound China, when suddenly they all turned and looked in her direction, and the man with the brown beard smiled. Sarah was terror-stricken. Was the principal telling them that she would not pass? Perhaps he would come to her and say that it was hardly worth while for her to try. Sarah did not blame her teachers for her breaking down; in her opinion it was her own natural "dumbness."

But the examiner who distributed the papers had already left one on her desk, and she seized it, and gazed at the printed questions. At first they looked entirely unfamiliar. The two battles of Saratoga? Was it part of Geography or Physiology? It was certainly neither Spelling nor Arithmetic. She frowned and the questions seemed to vanish, and a blank page to stare her in the face.

Then, suddenly, she remembered. The battles of Saratoga took place on September 19 and October 7, 1777. But it was a History question, and in History one was not examined until the end of one's Junior year. History was one of Ethel's and Gertrude's subjects. But Sarah was not there to reason, but to obey. She remembered her extra lessons, took courage, and read another question: "Mention four causes of the Civil War." That was easy! And there were only five questions in all.

Presently, when she had answered three, she ventured to lift her head. Another paper had been laid on her desk. A new examiner had just passed, his head turned toward the other side of the room, as he answered a question from one of the Seniors. This was a double paper: there were four questions in each of two branches, Arithmetic and Physiology. To Sarah's great joy, these seemed even less difficult. She finished the first paper and attacked the second. Before she had quite finished, the first examiner came to collect, and with a long sigh she passed in all the papers. She saw Mabel Thorn and Ellen Ritter get up and go out, and with them other sub-Juniors, but she did not stir. She would wait until she was told to go. If perseverance would help her through, that should not be lacking.

The distributor of papers looked at her a little sharply as he went by.

"Physical Geography?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," answered Sarah indistinctly. She was beginning to be confused. She could not remember whether she was to be examined in Physical Geography or not, but at least she would try. There were questions in Latin on the same paper, and a half page of translation. The translation was easy. She remembered having read the little story with Mr. Sattarlee. But she could not understand why they should give her a Latin paper. When one was given extra studies by mistake, did one have to take examinations in them?

She was afraid to ask questions. Mabel Thorn had asked whether she must answer all the questions in order to pass, and the examiner had not answered her very pleasantly. Evidently they did not like to be questioned. Sarah was too excited to distinguish between necessary and unnecessary questions. Bewildered, she set to work once more.

The day was as hot as a June day can be. Not a breath of air stirred the shades at the windows, which did not seem to keep out a bit of the hot sunshine. The examiners had large palm-leaf fans, which they waved tantalizingly back and forth. Occasionally a student stopped writing long enough to fan himself with his examination-paper or to mop his brow. Not so Sarah. Her hand seemed to stick to the paper, the perspiration ran down her cheeks, but she did not stop.

Once "Bobs" Ellis furnished a slight diversion. He wandered in in search of Edward, and having found him walked lazily to the front of the room, and sat down, panting, to stare at the examiners. For a few minutes he contemplated them gravely, then he opened his mouth in a tremendous yawn and stalked out. Every one but Sarah laughed and felt better.

At noon Miss Ellingwood tried to coax Sarah to eat.

"Were they hard, Sarah?"

"I—I guess so."

"You must lie down for a while after dinner," said Miss Ellingwood solicitously. "And you mustn't say a word or think about examinations."

"Yes, ma'am," answered Sarah obediently. She had meant to ask Miss Ellingwood to help her to fathom the mystery of the morning's examinations, but if Miss Ellingwood did not wish to talk about examinations, she would not insist. But she did not lie down. She hunted up her spelling-book and glanced once more at "phthisis" and "relieve" and "receive," and all the words which bothered her.

It was the middle of the afternoon before she realized that she had written the answers to seven sets of questions.

Several of the grammar questions had baffled her completely, and when an examiner had laid on her desk a sheet of drawing-paper, and had intimated that she was to draw the fern which was placed near her on a table, she had lifted her hand to protest. But no one seemed to see her hand, and she lowered it again and set desperately to work.

Edward Ellis, next to her, was also drawing the fern, and he looked at her wonderingly. Then he remembered that she had been taking some Junior courses. It was that which had made her ill. Perhaps they were going to let her try the Junior examinations. And at any rate the Board knew what it was about. Edward stood in great awe of that august body, and did not dare to offer any objections to its proceedings.

Sarah was told also to draw the steps leading to the platform, and she proceeded to obey. She had had only elementary drawing. She saw with alarm that the boys near her were working with careful measurements and ruling. She knew nothing about ruling, or about holding up one's pencil and squinting past it, or the rules of perspective by which they worked so carefully. She only drew the steps as she had drawn things for the twins, as they looked to her.

"Political Geography and Arithmetic and Physiology and Spelling I was to be examined in," she said to herself. "I have been examined in Arithmetic and Physiology and History and Latin and Physical Geography and Grammar and Drawing, but not yet in Spelling or Political Geography. Most of these things do not come till next year. Ach, I do not know what it means!"

The examiner had collected the papers once more, and laid a new one on her desk. Sarah glanced at it, then finally she raised her voice in protest.

"I don't take Civil Government," she said. "I never took it. I don't know anything about it. If I knew anything about it, I—"

"What class are you?" asked the examiner shortly.

"The sub-Junior."

"Then you don't belong here." He spoke impatiently. He remembered that the papers which she had handed in in the morning were the most voluminous in the class. Lengthy papers do not please gentlemen who have hundreds to examine. "You belong over in the other room, where the sub-Juniors are being examined in Spelling. You'll have to hurry. People that are late are sometimes refused admission."

Sarah gathered pencils and erasers and fountain-pen, and flew across the hall. The examiner there received her even less cheerfully.

"You are very late," he said sharply. "Spell 'picnicking.'"

He was somewhat mollified by her prompt answer. Ten sub-Juniors had misspelled the word.

Sarah breathed a long sigh and found a seat. Her mind was suddenly clear; she felt that she could not fail even if he gave her all the hard words in the book. Here her foot was on its native heath. William would be able to forgive her for knowing nothing about Latin, but no Wenner would ever be able to forgive her for being a poor speller.

Long after the examiner had marked them, he continued to amuse himself by giving them all the "catchy," treacherous words he could think of. He coupled words on purpose to snare them, "four" and "forty," "precede" and "proceed," "defendant" and "precedent." He gave them all the short, trying words, like "fiery," which half the class spelled "f-i-r-e-y," and all the long words, which one does not expect to meet with outside the spelling-book, like "eleemosynary" and "monocotyledon" and "asseveration." When he finished, both he and the students were out of breath. Of all the class only Sarah had not missed a word.

"Are you the young lady who missed time by being sick?" he asked.

"Yes, sir."

"Umph!" said the examiner non-committally.

Ethel and Gertrude waited for Sarah outside the door, and walked across the campus with her. As in a dream she heard them discussing their questions.

"The two battles of Saratoga were on September 19 and October 7, 1777," said Gertrude. "Gates was in command of the Americans and Burgoyne of the British."

"Yes," answered Ethel. "And the Treaty of Ghent was the one which ended the War of 1812, wasn't it?"

"Were those your questions?" asked Sarah wearily.

"Yes, what were yours like?"

"Ach, I don't know. 'I want,'"—she laughingly quoted a jingle which Miss Ellingwood often repeated,—

"'I want to have my supper,
And I want to go to bed,'

and then I want to sleep and sleep and sleep, and then I will not know for a long time that I am put out of the Normal School."