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would not want to attend one of the finest schools in the United States?"
    They walked in silence for a moment, until George, too, thought of a question. "Do your students have just one teacher, like in elementary school? Or do they change classes, like in middle school?"
    "They change classes, like in college." Dr. Austin stopped to look George in the eyes. "Let me tell you about the teachers here. They are known for two things: being well paid and being anonymous.
    "Teachers at the Whittaker Magnet School make four times the salary of other King's Comity teachers. As you can imagine, we have a tremendous backlog of enthusiastic applicants."
    George's curiosity was piqued. "But why are they anonymous?"
    "Within our system," Dr. Austin explained with pride, "your teachers will be known to you only by subject and grade level: Science Six, Math Seven, and so on."
    George said, "They don't have names?"
    "Of course they have names! But their names, and indeed their lives, are not relevant to your academic achievement. Their names are, in fact, a distraction. Teachers have no business cluttering up my carefully designed curriculum with anecdotes about ... oh, how they forgot to feed their goldfish the night before! This is one of my many innovations."
    Dr. Austin stopped to point out the County Commission Room. It took up one entire side of the eighth floor. The group peered through a long Plexiglas window at a cluster of flags, a white dais with a long wooden table, and thirty rows of folding chairs.
    "You will be privileged to watch social studies come to life in this very room, to watch democracy in action. This is where the county commissioners debate and ratify the bills that affect all of our lives."
    The tour of the eighth floor ended back at Dr. Austin's door, where Cornelia was waiting. She asked her husband, "Did you show them the ceiling murals?"
    "Not specifically. No."
    "May I?"
    "Certainly."
    Cornelia leaned against the railing. "Ignore the unsightly hole in the roof. It's still under construction. The murals, of course, will be professionally cleaned afterward. For now, let me point out my favorite part. This scene right above us shows George Washington, on a horse, presenting Cornell Whittaker Number One, also on a horse, with a book." She paused and added proudly, "That sort of thing never happened to Andrew Carnegie."
    George said, "It never happened to Cornell Whittaker Number One, either. He was born more than fifty years after Washington died."
    Cornelia bristled. "Perhaps when you have written and published a book about the Whittaker family, you'll be able to discuss the topic with me."
    Dr. Austin favored George with a sympathetic smile. Then he led the group back into his office.
    Cornelia positioned herself in front of the exit. "Of course, all of the extra benefits of a Whittaker education mean extra expenses. Are any of you wealthy?"
    Ma and Pa guffawed loudly. June shook her head.
    "Well, the County Commission has estimated the costs at about ten thousand dollars per year per child."
    June gasped. Ma and Pa guffawed again, like they thought Cornelia was joking. But the stern look on her face assured them that she was not.
    Pa found his voice first. "I'm afraid we don't have that kind of money."
    Dr. Austin joined his wife. He smiled warmly. "I understand, sir. Many families of gifted students lack the resources to educate them properly. That is why the County Commission, in its generosity, has developed the Leave No High-Scoring Child Behind Program. Through this program, the county pays the expenses of indigent children." He looked at Ma, Pa, and June. "All the county asks of you in return is some voluntary work, here at the school."
    Cornelia handed contracts and work schedules to Ma, Pa, and June.
    "As luck would have it, we have a low-level clerical job available for June Melvil. We may also be able to find her some domestic work—dusting and that sort of thing. Ma and Pa Melvil, of course, are