Erve Windham had a problem. Actually, Erve had several problems. His life at home with his reclusive, ill-tempered papa was depressing. His lack of money and other resources held him back from his dreams. And, he had a particular character flaw that plagued him constantly and often got him into trouble. But most pressing at the moment was the problem Erve had with his teacher. Oh, there was nothing wrong with her; there was something wrong with him Erve had fallen in love with his schoolteacher, Miss Lizzie Waldrup.It was in the spring of 1915 in rural Jasper County, Mississippi, when Erve decided he must address his feelings for his teacher. The handsome young man was a couple of years older than the other two twelfth-graders in his class. He had taken time off from school to work in the cotton fields and had fallen behind in his studies. In fact, there were only seventeen pupils that year in the entire, one-room schoolhouse in the Antioch Community where Miss Lizzzie taught. Her students ranged from first-graders to twelfth-graders. Erve and Lizzie were polar opposites in many ways. She was educated, cultured and refined. He was as rough as a corncob. And then, there was the difference in their ages to consider. It was foolish, he knew, to hope for a future with her, but he had to try to make that dream come true. As Erve quietly slipped under a frayed and faded quilt and lay listening to the familiar night sounds coming from the woods surrounding his sad little abode, he remained sleepless. His mind was busy pondering the plan he was formulating to get away . . . to make something of himself . . . to have something of his own . . . and to earn the respect (and the hand) of Miss Lizzie Waldrup.