Millie's prediction proved well founded--Amanda Reist stood well in her
classes. In botany she was the preeminent figure of the entire school.
"Ask Amanda Reist, she'll tell you," became the slogan among the
students. "Yellow violets, lady-slippers, wild ginger--she'll tell you
where they grow or get a specimen for you."
When the time for graduation drew near Amanda was able to carry home
the glad news that she ranked third in her class and was chosen to
deliver an oration at the Commencement exercises.
"That I want to hear," declared Millie, "and I'll get a new dress to
wear to it, too."
On the June morning when the Commencement exercises of the First
Pennsylvania State Normal School took place there were hundreds of
happy, eager visitors on the campus at Millersville, and later in the
great auditorium, but none was happier than Millie Hess, Reists' hired
girl. The new dress, bought in Lancaster and made by Mrs. Reist and
Aunt Rebecca, was a white lawn flecked with black. Millie had decided
on a plain waist with high neck, the inch wide band at the throat edged
with torchon lace, after the style she usually wore, the skirt made
full and having above the hem, as Millie put it, "Just a few tucks,
then wait a while, then tucks again." But Amanda, happening on the
scene as the dress was tried on, protested at the high neck.
"Please, Millie," she coaxed, "do have the neck turned down, oh, just a
little! I'd have a nice pleated ruffle of white net around it and a
little V in front. You'd look fine that way."
"Me-fine! Go long with you, Amanda Reist! Ain't I got two good eyes and
a lookin'-glass? But I guess I would look more like other folks if I
had it made like you say. But now I don't want it too low. You dare fix
it so it looks right." Displaying the same meek acquiescence in the
desire of Amanda she bought a stylish hat instead of the big flat
sailor with its taffeta bow she generally chose. The hat was Amanda's
selection, a small, modest little thing with pale pink and gray roses
misty with a covering of black tulle.
"Me with pink roses on my hat and over forty years old," said Millie
wonderingly, but when she tried it on and saw the improvement in her
appearance she smiled happily. "It's the prettiest hat I ever had and
I'll hold it up and take good care of it so it'll last me years. I'm
gettin' fixed up for sure once, only my new shoes don't have no squeak
in 'em at all."
"That's out of style," Amanda informed her kindly.
"It is? Why, when I was little I remember hearin' folks tell how when
they bought new shoes they always asked for a 'fib's worth of squeak'
in 'em."