CHAPTER V.

CHAPTER V.On the morning succeeding the day described in the last chapter, father startled me very much at the breakfast table, by asking:“John, how would you like to commence school? you are getting too old to be playing all the time.”“Oh, ever so much!” I replied, eagerly, watching his face closely, to see if he was in earnest. “Ned Cheyleigh began last session, and I can read and spell as well as he can now, so it will be easy for me to keep up.”“Well, I saw Miss Hester Weck about it yesterday, and she said she would be very glad to take you, so you can get ready to start to-morrow morning.”I was too much excited to eat any more, but began teazing mother to begin right away on my school outfit.“Mother, I want a satchel to carry my books in, and a basket for my luncheon; and, mother, please get me a string for my top, because all the boys play top, and I broke my string yesterday; and father, please sir, get me a knife to peel apples and to cut pencils with, and a piece of leather to make me a sling, and a——”“Hush, Johnnie,” said mother, “be quiet, and I will be sure to have you ready. The school room is just around the corner, so you can come home for your lunch; and as your ‘books’ only consist of one ‘Angell’s First Book’ you will hardly need a bag.”I gulped down a mouthful of food, then hastening from the table, I got my Reader and devoted the whole morning to picking out all the hard words and spelling them over. By dinner time I had mastered nearly all of them, and could read with considerable fluency the pathetic tale of retributive justice which befel the cruel James Killfly.That evening when father came in he brought me a beautiful knife with a file blade in it. To possess a knife with a file blade had always been one of the unattained pinnacles of my ambition—this appurtenance, in my eyes, being the verytoga virilisof cutlery; and as my property in this department had hitherto consisted of blunt pointed Barlows, and fatigued looking dog knives, with their edges purposely made dull, to be the undisputed owner of an exquisite pearl handled knife, with brightest blades, placed me at once upon the pinnacle, and I enjoyed the situation. I was never tired of opening and snapping the blades, and blowing my breath upon them, as the larger boys did, to test their metal. I trimmed my pencil quite away, because the cedar cut smoothly, and the chairs suffered as severely as Washington, Sr.’s, cherry tree did.I rose next morning with the sun, and was busying everywhere in my preparations for school. Breakfast finished, with my book in my hand, and that adored knife inmy pocket, I started with father for the school. I felt a little sinking about the heart as I kissed mother good-bye and descended the steps, and would, had I not been ashamed, have shrunk from the new life I was entering, and gone back to the old routine of play. As we turned our corner I looked back, and mother was still standing in the door, gazing thoughtfully after us. I could not then understand or appreciate her feelings, but I can now.Miss Hester answered our tap at her door in person, and invited us in to a seat. I shrank closer to father as the curious eyes of the scholars were all turned towards me, and I found no kindly sympathy in the glances. Father took a seat and entered into conversation with Miss Hester, while I timidly surveyed the apartment where my ideas were to be taught to shoot.Miss Hester Weck kept a small preparatory school for girls and boys, and ruled it with old maidish particularity. All the scholars had to sit up straight on three rows of benches, which were so arranged with reference to Miss Hester’s seat that she could have a full view of all. None were allowed to speak or laugh, and as for rocking backwards and forwards, a motion believed by children to be conducive to study and essential to retention, the thing was unheard of in Miss Hester’s school. Some, indeed, had tried it on first entering, but after one or two interviews with Miss Hester’s rod they had learned to study in one position. On one side of the room was a row of pegs for the girls’ hats and bonnets, and on the opposite side a similar row for the boys’. At one end of the room was the rostrum on which our monarch sat, and at the other was a long desk, covered with ink splotches, at which the scholars wrote. Having completed my survey of the room I turned my attention to the scholars, and scanned their faces closely, as I was to associate, more or less intimately, with all of them. They were all, with the exception of two orthree, munching the corners of their books, and staring steadily at father and me. There were five occupants of the front bench, who, I thought, from their position, must be first grade scholars. The first was a tall, raw-boned girl, with sandy hair and freckled face, and light gray eyes, turned up at the corners, giving her a sinister and Chinese expression that assured me of victimization. Next to her was her brother, a small and sleepy second edition of herself, not at all revised or corrected. Then came a bright-eyed little fellow who was engaged in the pleasant diversion of making hideous faces at me. At his side was a fat, redheaded girl, who was the only one studying; and lastly, a stupid, tow-haired youth, whose straight flax hair looked as if it had been hung on his head to dry, and had dried stiff, and who was gazing at me as if I were vacancy.The second bench held three girls and two boys, who resembled in many particulars those on the first bench. On number three I recognized, to my great joy, Ned Cheyleigh and Lulie Mayland, and to my annoyance Frank Paning. Before we had concluded our interchange of whispered salutations, father rose and said to Miss Hester:“I will now leave him with you. He is a good boy and easy enough to manage, though a little inclined to mischief.”“Oh, I will take care of that,” she said. “We will be first rate friends; won’t we, Johnnie?”Father left me, the door closed on him, and I was beginning to enter Life’s shallowest waters alone.“Come here, Johnnie,” said Miss Hester, “let me see how much you know, so that I can put you in a class.”I rose, and with a great swelling knot in my throat, drew my book from my side pocket and carried it to her.“How far have you been in this?” she said, as she carelessly fluttered over the leaves.“I went clear through it, ma’am, under mother.”“Well, let me see how you spell; spell ‘honest’?”I had begun, at first, spelling by recollecting how the letters looked on the page, but mother had broken me from it and taught me to spell words by their sound. Accordingly I stammered out, while my eyes filled with tears and the knot in my throat almost choked me:“O-n-n-e-s-t—Onnest.”At this Frank Paning led off with a laugh, followed by the whole school. A rap on Miss Hester’s desk secured silence, and she proceeded.“Don’t be so frightened, child, try another word; spell ‘Business.’”Knowledge of everything, save the names of the letters, was gone, and I blindly blurted out:“B-i-z-z-i-n-e-double ess!” I broke down completely and stood there trying to hide my crying, while the perverse tears would drop on the floor, and my nose, treacherous organ, required constant snuffling or the tell-tale use of my handkerchief.Another titter was heard, but Miss Hester repressed it, and said in her kindest tone:“Poor child, you are too much agitated to spell. I will put you, for the present, in a class with Lulie Mayland and Edward Cheyleigh. Go there, and let her show you where the lesson is.”As I started across the room a wad of chewed paper struck me in the face. I did not see who threw it, but Miss Hester did, and calling up Frank Paning gave him a sound whipping.Sitting down with Ned and Lulie I felt more at my ease, and by the time recess was announced, felt like joining in the games. All was clatter and chatter as we poured from the door, and the scholars forgot I was a “newy” in the excitement of the play. The game of “goosey” was proposed and commenced. We separated to our bases, and at thecall advanced. Scampering hither and thither, some tried to catch, some to be caught. I dodged, in good earnest, both boys and girls, and endeavored to reach the opposite base with a zeal that would have adorned a fanatic. But it was no use; the tall and freckled girl singled me out, and with a speed that would have disdained Atalanta’s apples, pursued steadily, and with the utmost perseverance, after me. No matter how I twisted, turned and doubled, still she was behind me, nearer and nearer, never relaxing her speed, while with every backward glance I gave, her brown calico dress flew higher and higher, and her parrot-toed feet stepped over each other more and more swiftly.Of course she overhauled me, and, catching me by the lower edge of my jacket, triumphantly dragged me backwards to the base, in the style known as “walking turkey.” Throughout the whole game it was my fate to be caught by the girls, but I was not over timid on this score, and rather enjoyed it. At one o’clock I ran home for lunch, and gave father and mother a detailed account of my morning’s experience, omitting the crying scene. I returned to the school room with a light heart, and, as children are not very formal, was soon acquainted with all the scholars. Frank met me first, and begged my pardon for his rudeness in the morning. He made himself so kind and attentive to me that my prejudices against him imperceptibly began to wear off, though I could not help observing that he was overbearing to those who were meaner dressed than himself, and whom he considered his inferiors.As the days wore on I had time to form intimacies, and I found one friend in the school whom I could “grapple unto my soul with hooks of steel.”Between Edward Cheyleigh and myself there sprang up the most lasting friendship. He was the most noble hearted boy I ever knew. Manly and firm to the last degree, yet gentle and soft as a girl in his manners; full of life andgaiety, yet no amount of persuasion could make him yield his consent to what he thought was wrong. He was, in consequence, rather unpopular with the scholars, and I have often seen his face flush at a sneer about his being the favorite, after a refusal to join in some plan to worry Miss Hester. I used to admire his firmness and moral courage, and long to imitate his example, but I was too much afraid of the ridicule of the school, and I would often forfeit Ned’s approval rather than face the jeers of so many.As the session passed on I lost all my reserve, and, with the absence of embarrassment, came my love for fun. I was soon up to all the tricks of school, and an expert in their performance. I was perfect in the art of chewing and shooting paper, and William Tell took no more pride in his apple feat than did I in the accuracy with which I could plant a two inch pulp in a boy’s forehead across the room, and never attract a glance from Miss Hester. I could gauge a pin to the exact desideratum of pain, as I inserted it just above my neighbor’s point of contact with the bench. I could stand up and call out, “M’ I g’ out?” as loudly as the boldest, or assume, with perfect ease, the don’t care expression and slinging gait, after a mortifying attempt at recitation. These accomplishments were only acquired after months of timidity and practice, but by degrees I became a ringleader in all the mischief, and many were the difficulties I became involved in. Frank Paning always joined us in our schemes, but somehow generally managed to escape the punishment that fell on the rest of us.One day Miss Hester was later coming than usual. We had all assembled, and waited patiently for her some time, when Frank suddenly proposed that we bar her out, and make her give us holiday. His proposition was agreed to by several, of which I was the first; while all the girls, and two or three of the very small boys, went outside to wait for her. We commenced our operations with vigor, pilingup chairs, tables, and Miss Hester’s desk, against the door, in our haste turning the ink over the copy books and papers, and scattering the pens and rulers generally. As we concluded our arrangements, we observed Ned still inside, sitting quietly at his usual corner.“Why, hallo, Ned!” said Frank, “I thought you were outside with the other girls. Why don’t you go?”“Because I don’t wish to,” Ned replied, quietly, rubbing out one figure on his slate with a wet forefinger and putting down another.“But you won’t tell on us, will you?” asks a timid one.“I shall not tell on any one, as it is none of my business;” and Ned bent over his slate as if that was all he had to say.“All right! here she comes ’round the corner,” exclaimed two or three excited ones, peeping through a crevice in the window. “Wonder what the old lady will do?”Sure enough Miss Hester was coming, walking with all the majesty of a teacher, and carrying demoralization to our garrison by her very presence. As she came up we could hear a chorus of shrill voices crying:“Lor! Miss Hester, what do you think? the boys have locked us and you out, and say they won’t let us in till you promise to give ’em holiday.”She did not reply, but we heard her come up the steps, and shake the door two or three times. Finding it barred, there was an ominous silence of a minute or two, then another more violent shake. The more timorous of our number now wished to open the door, and surrender unconditionally; but Frank and I, by dint of hard persuasion, and by representing to them that this course would not palliate their sin, induced them to hold out. She left the house, and went off, walking rapidly. The advocates of surrender now gained strength, but we argued and plead them into a little more obduracy. Before our council of war had ended Miss Hester returned with a carpenter, and we felt that thebattle was hers. We got our books, took our seats, and watched, with anxious eyes, the door, as it creaked and strained with every blow. A moment more and it flew open, scattering our barricade in every direction, and Miss Hester marched in victorious. Having dismissed the carpenter, and put things to rights, she turned her attention to the perpetrators of the deed. We saw, from the miniature thunder cloud that had gathered between her brows, that there was no hope for mercy, so we prepared to meet our fate resignedly. Calling us all up in a row, she began at the top of the roll:“Eliza Atly, were you inside or outside?”Miss Eliza Atly, the freckled girl, with corner-drawn eyes, is delighted to testify that she was outside.“Abram Barn, outside or inside?”Abram Barn, the small, fat boy, with puffy cheeks and dry tow hair, bubbles out his answer as if it were liquid:“Out chide, m’m!”“Edward Cheyleigh?”“Inside, ma’am.”“Edward! I am surprised at that. Did you bar the door against me?”“No, madam.”“Do you know who did it?”“Yes, ma’am, I do, but I cannot tell.”Miss Hester’s face flushed, as she said, sternly:“Those who conceal are as guilty as those who commit.”She proceeded down the roll, receiving confessions from some, and denials from others, till she came to Frank’s name.“Frank Paning,” she said, with her darkest frown, “did you bar my door?”“No, madam, I did not.”He had been nailing down the windows while we were barring the door.“Did you see who did it?”“I did not see any one do it. When I looked the door was all barred up tight.”Every one looked at him in amazement, but he replied by a smirk of conceit at his success.“John Smith, did you help to keep me out?” thundered Miss Hester, her patience all gone.“Yes, ma’am, I did.”“That will do; you can all take your seats.”My name completed the roll, and she laid aside the book, and took up the rod. After some remarks on the enormity of our offence, and the surprise she felt that some of her best scholars should have countenanced it, and that it was her unpleasant duty to punish all concerned, she proceeded to call up the offenders in order.“Edward Cheyleigh, come here, sir. I regret very much the necessity of punishing you, as it is the first time, and I have never before even reproved you; but the offence is very grievous, and as you know who did it, and won’t tell, you are accessory to the deed. Hold out your hand!”I could stand it no longer, as Ned, with his face crimson from mortification, yet his head erect with conscious innocence, held out his hand for the undeserved blows, but springing from my seat, I cried:“Miss Hester, Ned had nothing to do with it. We all begged him to join us, but he wouldn’t; and if you are going to whip him, let me take his share.”“Stand back, sir,” she said sternly, “your time will come soon enough. Your hand, Edward.”He extended each palm, and received the cutting blows without a quiver, then turned to his seat. As he sat down his fortitude gave way, and, burying his face in his hands, he burst into sobbing.My time came last, but so much did I feel for Ned that I scarce heeded the stinging ferule. Miss Hester, after some further remarks, dismissed us for the evening. As we pouredfrom the door, the occasion furnished food for more chattering than a cargo of magpies could have made.“Wasn’t old Hess mad, though?” says one, whose hand was still red from the ruler.“She couldn’t get much out of my hand with her old slapjack,” boasts another, rubbing his hands unconsciously on his pants, in striking contradiction of his assertion.As Frank Paning came out I heard him say:“But didn’t I get out of it nice?”“Yes, you sneaked out like a dog,” I replied indignantly. Another chimed in:“Yes, you did. Ned Cheyleigh’s good game, though. I don’t believe he ever would have told old Hess, if she had beat him till now.”“Umph!” sneered Frank, “‘twas because he was afraid to tell. He knew some of us would whip him if he did.”Ned was coming down the steps, the traces of tears still on his cheeks, when he heard Frank’s remarks.The crimson on his face gave place to the white hue of anger, as he walked up to Frank and said:“You lie. I dare you to try it.”Frank looked sheepish, but the boys were all around him, and he felt that he must fight, so, laying down his books, he met Ned.What a momentous subject of interest is a fight between school boys! A duel between senators excites not more proportionate attention.These only passed a couple of blows, then clinched and fell, Frank underneath. What digging in the ground with heels and toes! Frank trying to wring his body from under Ned, and Ned trying to hold him down; while the enthusiastic spectators clapped their hands and shouted as the tide of battle wavered:“Oh my, Ned! Hold him down! Turn him over, Frank! Throw out your leg and push! Jerk his hands up, Ned,” etc., etc.After several futile struggles Frank gave up, cried “Enough!” and both arose considerably soiled and blown.I took Ned in charge, and we started home, I brushing the dirt from his clothes, and endeavoring to remove all traces of the conflict.“Ned,” I said, as we reached Mr. Cheyleigh’s gate, “I am so sorry I got you into this trouble.”“Oh, never mind that,” he replied cheerfully. “I hated it on account of its being my first, but I wasn’t in fault any way, and I wouldn’t tell her now to save her life.”Ned was human, and could not but feel anger at his undeserved punishment.We parted, and I hastened home. Anticipating Miss Hester’s narration of the affair, I gave a faithful account of it; taking care to describe our conduct as “having just locked her out for a little fun,” and descanting, in glowing terms, on her cruelty to Ned. Father’s brow darkened, and he shook his head ominously when I had concluded.“John,” he said at length, and I knew by his tone that he did not see the joke as I did, “this will not do. You are always getting in some school difficulty. I must look into this affair and learn the true state of the case. Go, get your supper and then go to bed. I will see you in the morning.”I sullenly went into the dining room and partook of the meal, with gloomy forebodings of the morrow, for I knew, from experience, that the “seeing” in the morning meant something more than vision.I went to my chamber and got to bed, but not to sleep (for it was too soon for that, and I could still hear out doors the sounds of day life and activity); but to ruminate on the injustice of Miss Hester, father and the world generally. I felt that father should have taken my part and not threatened another punishment, when I had alreadyexpiated my fault at Miss Hester’s hands. I took a gloomy delight in forgetting all his kindness, and bringing up to memory all his chastisements and reproofs, and I finally came to the conclusion that I was a poor, persecuted little martyr, that nobody cared for me, and that it would be such a sweet revenge to bundle up all my clothes in a handkerchief and run away. I thought how fine it would be to go far away where no one ever heard of our home, and achieve an immense fortune; and when, at last, everybody thought me dead, and father was sufficiently penitent for his cruelty, to return in a gilded chariot, with several dozen white horses, and riding up before our door in great state, inquire if Col. Smith, the father of an exiled child, lived there. The only obstacle to my fugitive project was the lack of somewhere to run to; and as no suitable place presented itself to my mind, I gave up the scheme for the present, always to be renewed, though, when aggrieved, and always to be as far from execution. I persevered, however, in my misanthropic musings till I had rendered myself thoroughly miserable, when my reverie was broken by the entrance of mother, who came and sat down on the edge of my bed. Taking my hand in her soft palm, she said:“Tell me all about your difficulty, Johnnie. How did it occur?” Turning my face from the wet, warm pillow up to her’s, I gave a full recital of all, throwing in towards the last a few reflections on father’s harsh treatment, as it appeared to me.“Hush! hush! Johnnie, you must not speak so. I know it seems hard to you, but it was well calculated to provoke your father. This is the fourth or fifth time you have been punished this session, and he knew it would not do to encourage you in such rebellious conduct.”I remained silent and grum, and mother continued:“I know boys think it very manly and brave to be insubordinate at school, and to show all the disrespect they canto the teachers; if they are reproved to reply pertly, and if they are chastised, to bear it without flinching. All these are foolishly considered marks of great spirit. But it is a very mistaken idea. Is it not wrong, culpably wrong, to obstruct and impede the labors of those who are striving to do us good? The very fact of their being compensated renders them responsible to parents and guardians for a more careful instruction of those placed under their charge, and yet you endeavor by every means to prevent the discharge of this responsibility, even though you are to receive the benefit. The teacher’s task is a difficult one any way, and you should strive to lighten the burden, by prompt and ready obedience, instead of scheming to make it heavier. Miss Hester is an old lady, and entitled to our respect from her very age; and then she is alone in the world; she has no one to look to for protection, and makes all her living by her little school. How shameful and sinful, then, to tease and trouble her! No wonder she lost her patience when she found herself locked out of her own house, compelled to stand in the street, a laughing-stock for the passers by. And see, too, another consequence of your fun, as you called it: your little playmate, Ned Cheyleigh, who had the manliness to refuse to join you, is punished equally with the guilty, and has to suffer for your fault. I like fun and innocent mischief myself, but never let it be enjoyed at the expense of another’s feelings.”Her kind words and manner unnerved me, and the black cloud in my heart poured its rain from my eyes, as I sobbed out:“I—didn’t—mean—to hurt—her—feelings—, and—I’ll—beg—father’s pardon—and hers—the first—thing—in—the—morning. I told—Ned—how sorry—I was—about—him—this—evening.”“Well, I hope you will let this prove a lesson to you for the future. It’s getting late; good night.”As she left the room I turned over on my pillow, took another hearty pull at my tears, and was then at Morpheus’ service.CHAPTER VI.I roseearly next morning, full of good resolutions; and, to put the first in execution, found father, and asked his pardon. He granted it kindly, and said, with a smile:“I have determined to remove you to the Academy. You are getting almost too large for Miss Hester to manage. I will continue your tuition pay to her for the remainder of the session, as it is our fault that you leave her. You may remain at home to-day, as it is Friday, but on Monday you must commence with Mr. Morris.”I was perfectly delighted with the transfer, as it would add considerably to my dignity, for I had long looked forward to entering the Academy as an era in life.As soon as breakfast was over, I ran around to Miss Hester’s school house, to make my acknowledgment to her. She was very kind in her manner toward me, and did not seem to bear any ill will for my conduct of the day before. When I mentioned the subject of my removal, as I did not say anything about the continuation of the pay, the old lady seemed very much to regret my leaving, was confident we could get on pleasantly together, and felt assured that I would behave, for the rest of the term, like a little gentleman. As I was not equally certain on all these points, I told her that father thought it best, and that I must do as he wished. I therefore got up my books, slate and stationery, and marched out of the little house where I had spent so many happy hours, followed by the envious eyes of all the scholars, who were still to slave it out there. I met Ned on my wayhome, and we had a short conversation, making arrangements to desk together, and vowing eternal fealty and fidelity to each other.I put my books away as soon as I reached home, and ran over to Dr. Mayland’s to see Lulie. Much to my disappointment she had gone to school, so nothing was left for me but to mope about all day in idleness. There is nothing in the world so wearisome as idleness without company. In vain I lounged over town seeking amusement. All my companions were at school, and everybody and everything seemed to have something to do. I strolled down to the wharves to find some relief in the sights down there, but all seemed intent on some occupation, and I could find no sympathy for my solitude. The loaded dray rattled a reproof at me as it passed; the smiths tinkering over old boilers hammered work into my ears; the clerk, busy with his marking brush, and the brawny wharf hands, rolling the sticky barrels hither and thither, were living lectures to me. Even the horse, at the unloading vessel, pulled up the weight, and backed again, with a stern disregard of his own pleasure. An old black rosin raft, floating lazily down the tide, was the only thing in sight at all congenial, and that was too far out in the river to be reached.The idle boy in the country may find pleasure where there are so many objects to amuse: the brook with its fish, the toy mill with its flutter wheel, the barn yard with calves to be broken to the yoke, the orchard and plum nursery, all help to pass the time; but woe to the idle in the crowded thoroughfare!Time is the only coachman who drives exactly by his schedule, and with all my impatience Monday did not come till Monday morning. I was too eager not to be equally punctual, and at nine o’clock precisely I entered Mr. Morris’s school room. How different it was from Miss Hester’s! Boys of every size, from the six foot youth to the little ladof my own height, were ranged, two and two, at their desks about the room. Most of the small ones manifested a strong desire to stamp my appearance indelibly on their memory, by an intense stare. The larger ones scarce noticed me; perhaps turning their heads to see who had disturbed the majestic silence of the hall.Mr. Morris called me to his stand, and, after a few questions, assigned me to a class and a desk. I took my seat, arranged my books, and then, not feeling so much abashed as at Miss Hester’s, I looked about me with more confidence and closer scrutiny. ‘Twas the same school room and boys that every one has seen; the dignified big boys, turning over the leaves of their lexicons, and running their fingers through their hair in the most erudite manner, occasionally spitting in the boxes at the sides of their desks, as if half their dignity depended on their mode of expectorating; half grown boys reclining in various positions, but chiefly sitting on one foot, while the other hung down, tapping against the sides of the bench; and little chaps, some studying, some talking, but most of them resting their cheeks upon their crossed hands laid flat upon their desks, while they stared at the “new boy.”My experience at Miss Hester’s, however, had taught me to accommodate myself to circumstances, so I made myself easy in my new quarters, and at the morning respite went out boldly with the rest, to join in the amusements.The story of our difficulty at Miss Hester’s had reached most of the boys through their younger brothers, who attended her school, and quite a throng gathered around me to question and admire, for the mere fact of my having had a difficulty at all, and having left the school, rendered me at once the hero and martyr of the occasion in their eyes. I related the affair with as much gusto as I could assume, and felt as proud of my insubordination as Cato did of his economy. As I concluded my recital, one of the lexicondignitaries strode up, and, looking over the heads of those around me, remarked carelessly:“Is that the little devil who turned his teacher out? If he tries his hand here, I’ll bet Jep will take the spunk out of him.”I could not comprehend his words, but I formed a terrible idea of Jep, who was so given to the extraction of spunk, and inwardly resolved that I would carefully avoid all acquaintance with him. I afterwards learned that it was an abbreviation of Mr. Morris’s given name, Jepthah. This reassured me, and I debated for some time whether to test Jep’s extracting powers, and preserve my reputation among my schoolmates, or assert over myself at least my moral courage, and heed my mother’s words of advice in regard to my deportment. At last I resolved on the latter course of conduct, and gave up all thoughts of resisting authority.At the close of the week Mr. Morris said to the school:“Remember, boys, next is composition week, and I do not want a single one to fail to write an essay. You can select your own themes, but you must receive assistance from no one.”I was very much astonished, for the thought of writing an essay or composition had never entered my mind. To express my ideas on paper, and then read them out to the whole school! ‘Twas a task in my eyes to appall a statesman. Still, I was not one to give up easily, and, possessing no small share of self confidence, I determined to do the best I could. For days my brain was racked to find a subject on which I could say anything at all. My mind seemed a perfect blank, with not even the dim shadow of a thought which I might evolve into distinctness. After awhile I began to try over different topics, but none appeared fruitful. I tried first on Truth; but I could find no way to begin but by asking, “What is Truth?”—a question I could not answer, so I gave that up. Then I tried “Vacation;” but here my onlyopening was an abrupt recountal of its scenes and pleasures, and these were too much identified with Lulie to be made public, so I abandoned that. The various animals came in for a share of consideration, but I could not find one of sufficient fecundity to bring forth an essay. The week had almost gone, and still I was themeless; when one day, at the dinner table, father jingled the ice in his glass, and made some remark about the strangeness of the fact that water, a liquid, could so change its nature as to become solid, merely by the absence of heat. Suddenly it popped into my head that I would write about ice. I bounced up, ran into the library, and, after an hour’s hard labor, appeared with the following:ICE.Ice is frozen water. Water, dry so, is soft, and can be moved with the finger or a stick; and also can be poured out. But when it frezes it gets num and stiff, and can’t be sturd, and won’t run down. ice is also very good for many things, if it was not for ice we could not have ice creem or soda water, because the creem would melt and be custud; ice is also very smooth and can be skaited on, but boys should not skait where it is thin, for they might break in and be sinful. ai boy once skaited on the sabbath and got drownd. To look at ice ought to make us want to study, so we can learn all about it, and about the people who live where it grows thick and can be driven with dogs upon. so I will put up my writing and try to study some.Your afextionate scolar,JOHN SMITH.P. S.—A eastern king would not believe the traveller when he told him about thick ice.This postscript I added as a display of my knowledge of history, which I feared would appear pedantic in the body of the composition, but would be striking and casual at its close.This important production I folded, endorsed with my name, and laid it away till Friday evening. Before handing it in, I read it to father and mother. I construed their smiles into compliments, and carried it to Mr. Morris with no small degree of satisfaction. Addison never felt more sure of praise than I did; and yet the following week ‘twas returned to me a perfect Joseph’s coat of red ink corrections and erasures.Væ literatis!But compositions were nothing to my next appearance in the school, for we were soon required to declaim. Here again there was trouble in the selection of a suitable piece for declamation; but I at length found a piece which I thought was admirably adapted to my style, and, preparing it carefully, I awaited with impatience the first evening of our practice.It came at last, and, as I saw the “first” scholars walk up the rostrum with dignity, and with grace of manner and well modulated voice, declaim beautiful selections, I felt that nothing was easier, and in my self confidence pitied the poor blockheads, of which there were not a few present, who drawled out their speeches in such an awkward and confused way. I was considerably worried, however, as Mr. Morris came down the roll, to find that no less than three of the smaller boys had selected exactly the same piece I had; still, I gathered encouragement from the fact that they all spoke it badly, and that my effort would show to a still better advantage after theirs. I was startled from my complacent comparisons by the loud tones of Mr. Morris, calling out:“John Smith, you will next declaim!”It is strange how easily confused and startled we are by the unexpected pronunciation of our names in public; the simple utterance of mine, on this occasion, overturned all my confidence and self-reliance, and I rose from my seat with a hair-rising sensation that took away my last hope of distinction.I ascended the rostrum with that peculiarly awkward feeling of being in somebody else’s skin, which fitted badly, and was especially tight about the cheeks and eyes. And my hands! I had used them in a thousand ways, but now, for the first time, became really and painfully aware of their existence. I had hitherto regarded them as an indispensable, though unconsciously possessed, part of my anatomy; but I now looked upon them as excessively inconvenient appurtenances, and I would have given a finger almost to have had them hung out of sight on my back. However, there they were and I had to dispose of them. After making my bow with my little finger on the seam of my pants, I put both hands for safe keeping in my trowsers’ pockets. They could not, however, long remain there, for, as I placed that idiotic youth upon the “burning deck,” out they came for a gesture, which finished, to give them something to do I put them to pulling down my vest, which had an unaccountable tendency to sever all connection with my pants. The flames now had to be shown——”round him o’er the dead,”and my hands nobly left my vest for action. Coming again to me idle, I sent one to my pocket, and the other to my mouth, where it remained during the greater part of my speech, spoiling out the words as fast as they issued from that orifice.My embarrassment and confused state of ideas also developed other startling blunders, which cooler moments would have corrected. The boys, in their naturally perverted disposition, had quite a habit of transposing the first letters of words in a sentence, exchanging with one word part of another, thereby creating a language that Cardinal Mezzofanti could never have mastered. With my imitative tendencies, I had no sooner entered the school than I caught the habit in all its force; and talked in this perverted style so constantly that I was an animated Etruscan hieroglyphto all at home. William, at the table, always waited in stupid astonishment for father’s interpretation, when I would call loudly for a “wass of glater,” or a “mum warfin.”On this occasion of declamation, I fully repented of my maladialectic propensity, for, do what I would, the words would come out twisted out of all human semblance.Mr. Morris, in our private practice, required each one to announce the subject of his speech; so, troubled as I have described by my hands and tongue, I thus declaimed:Basicianco.The stoy bood on the durning beck,Whence all but flem had hid,The lims that flate the wrettle backRone shound him do’er the ead.Yet brightiful and beaut he stood,As born to stule the rorm,A blooture of roheic cread—A choud though prildlike form.Bang! went Mr. Morris’s ruler on his desk as I completed the last verse.“Bring me the book, sir,” he thundered, “that contains all that nonsense.”Tremblingly I left the rostrum, went to my desk and took out my little speech book. Having examined it, and found that Mrs. Hemans’ beautiful verses were printed correctly, he turned upon me with his severest tone, and demanded to know what I meant by such ridiculous gibberish. I pleaded that I had got in the habit of talking so for fun, and could not help it on the stage.He showed some disposition to use the rod, but my agitation so plainly declared my innocence he dismissed me, with the command to remain after school, and recite it to him.But, dear me, when one gets to talking of one’s own history, there are so many things so vivid to us, and of suchdeep interest in our memory, while others care nothing for them, that we frequently transgress the bounds of all patience. As far as the narrative coincides with the reader’s own observation and experience, he will be interested; but should it go beyond, unless adorned with a marvellous mystery, he is wearied with the author’s prolixity. As I have still a considerable portion of my life to lay before my readers, I will not weary them further with puerile details, but, begging their indulgence for one more chapter of childhood’s history, I will pass on to a later period of my existence.CHAPTER VII.Atthe close of the second session it was proposed that we give a party. We held a meeting in the Academy, and elected a Committee of Management. These important and business transacting gentlemen soon came around with their subscription lists. As I was one of the small boys I had to subscribe only a dollar, but I felt as munificent as Mithridates, when I wrote “John Smith,” and, parallel with it, placed a small crooked “1” and two very fat ciphers, yoked together like the sign of the spectacles over a jeweller’s store. At dinner that day I obtained the amount from father, and mother pinned it in my jacket pocket for safety. When I returned in the afternoon I took out the pin before I reached the Academy and crumpled the bill in my pocket, to give it a careless look. When I handed it to the collector he expressed no gratitude, and evinced no feeling whatever on the subject, merely checking off my name with his pencil, and placing my dollar, in the coolest manner possible, with the other funds of the enterprise. But I was repaid, however, for such indifferent treatment, when thegilt embossed tickets came out, and I received my two. I carried one home, and put it in our card basket as a standing evidence of my interest in the party, and sent the other to Lulie, with my compliments written in ink of the bluest hue.Of course those who would not subscribe were regarded with great contempt by all who did, and epithets expressive of avarice and miserly meanness were heaped with unsparing liberality upon them. In some cases these were deserved, but there were many very poor boys in school, and I often blushed to hear their poverty ridiculed and themselves made the subjects of unfeeling jest. I recall one little scene.I was standing near, perhaps, the poorest boy in school, when one of the managers, a proud, stuck-up youth, approached, and said to him:“I say, Willie, you’ll give us something for the party, won’t you?”I noticed a slight quiver on Willie’s lip as he replied:“I have only twenty-five cents at home, and mother is not able to give me any more, but you are welcome to that, if you will have it.”“We don’t want any of your quarters. A dollar is the smallest contribution we take. But let me tell you, if you don’t subscribe you must not go to the party, and hang around to fill your pockets.”“You need not fear that I will come,” said the little fellow, as he drew his hat over his face and turned away, not however, before I had seen something glistening fall from his cheek, and make a tiny, wet circle in the sand.This digression, with the hope that some school boy who may read this book, may be led to reflect (which is rare) that others, besides himself, have feelings that may be hurt.The eventful evening of the eventful day at length arrived, and I went up to my room to make my extensive toilet. My clothes were spread out on the bed ready formy donning, and I stopped to contemplate their striking effect. My white pants gleamed beside a new blue jacket, with as bright buttons as Frank Paning ever dared to wear, and a snowy collar, already folded down, lay beside a handsome silk bow. I had given orders that my pants should be starched very stiff, with very deep creases down the legs. These instructions I found faithfully fulfilled, for they were so stuck together it was with great difficulty I could open the legs sufficiently to admit my own, and when they were at last on, I found that our laundress had ironed the creases down the sides instead of on the front of the legs, and the wide, hard linen stood out on each side of my feet like great paddles, and tapped, one against the other, with a noise that would have attracted attention in a mill. To add to my discouragement about the pants, my shoes, which I had ordered to be shined up for this extra occasion, came up to my room with one string gone; and as it could not be found, and it was too late to go out to purchase another, I had to borrow a light colored one with brass tips from mother, and trust to luck to hide my feet. As I had not reached the age of ability to fasten my own collar, I called in Aunt Hannah, who was passing my door. The old lady, being a little dim of vision, pinned my collar and bow just far enough to one side to give my head the appearance of being set on crooked; but as I was not extremely fastidious, and was moreover in great haste, I thought it would do by slightly turning my head, so as to keep my chin just over the bow. Putting on my jacket, and seeing its perfect fit, restored my equanimity, but I lost it fearfully again when I came to brush my hair.The Lacedæmonians used always to comb their hair before entering battle, and if their crinal adjustment caused them a tithe the irritation mine did me, we may cease to wonder at their reckless courage and desperate conduct.My locks yielded to the combined influence of comb,brush, water, and oil, and smoothly fell, except in one particular place—that perverse spot in the crown of the head, where the hair seems to have grown in a whirlwind. Here it would not “down,” but remained a capillary Banquo, in obstinate uprightness. After repeated proofs of its invincible stubbornness I was forced to leave it proudly erect, like the republic of Ragusa, among crouching kingdoms. Having completed my Beau-Brummellization, and received father’s injunction not to stay late, I hurried to the assembly rooms.The managers had engaged two halls; one for the grown people, with music stand and waxed floor, and a large empty room, with a few benches round the wall, for the little folks and their games. Thither I bent my course, and entered. Just inside the door I found a throng of the inevitable party jackals, who always frequent public entertainments. They hang round the doors, and stand in corners till supper is announced, when, the moment the ladies leave the table, they rush in upon the spoils. They number among them many who claim eminent respectability, yet who, being too bashful to mingle with the ladies, are of course too bashful to behave well. As I squeezed my way through this motley throng, many were the taunts I heard levelled at my unfortunate person, all of which I treated with silent contempt; but as I entered the hall fairly I heard a hoarse whisper behind me:“He’s getting skeered on the top of his head, look how his hair has riz.”I wilted under this last remark, and involuntarily smoothed my hand over the Ragusan hairs, to the great delight and boisterous merriment of the jackals.As soon as I had time to look about me, I saw Ned Cheyleigh, Frank Paning, and Lulie Mayland, over in a corner, with several other boys and girls of my acquaintance. Ned motioned to me to join them, and, much relieved, I hastened across the room.There were two benches arranged so that their occupants were placedvis à vis, and on one of these sat the boys, with their hats on their knees, and their arms resting on each others’ shoulders. The girls occupied the other, and were much more at their ease, though there was very little attempt at conversation, as the moment anybody spoke everybody else looked straight at them, and listened. This state of affairs proving very dry and uninteresting, it was proposed that we play some games. The proposal came from Frank, and Lulie was the first to accede to it. This circumstance, trivial as it was, tended greatly to diminish my interest in the proceedings. Frank and I had never had much dealing with each other since the affair at Miss Hester’s, though that was not so much the cause as the fact that we were rivals for Lulie’s heart. The little flirt always made me believe, when I was alone with her, that I was decidedly her preference, but somehow when we were both thrown into her presence, Frank always received the lion’s share of her smiles, remarks and attention. My good temper for the evening was nearly spoiled on this occasion when Frank proposed “Club Fist,” and laid his doubled-up hand in Lulie’s lap, she placing her’s immediately on it, followed by the hands of all the throng, till there was quite a Timour’s tower of human bones. To think of her hand being pressed by every other hand down on his, was almost too much for a lover to bear, but I swallowed my resentment as best I could, and joined my own hand to the tower.The very startling query, “What have you got there?” and the immediate abduction of the dimpled hand of a girl, or the chubby fist of a boy from the pile, were all gone through with, till the bottom hand was reached. The chain of destruction from the cat who so feloniously appropriated “my share,” to the knife hid behind the old church door, was carefully ascended, and the solemn sentence pronounced:“A for apple, P for pear, the first one who laughs or speaks shall receive three hard slaps and pinches.” All were as silent as Pythagorean novitiates, though many were the contortions to restrain laughter, till after a few moments Lulie’s merry laugh was heard.She pleaded that she could not help it; that Frank made such a funny face at her that she was compelled to laugh. She was, however, convicted, and we commenced to punish her. When it came Frank’s turn to pinch her, he did so so severely that she gave a little scream of pain, and declared she would pay him for it presently. When she presented her arm to me I felt that all the gallantry of my soul forbade cruelty to her, and I scarcely touched the soft flesh. My consideration did not seem to be very highly appreciated, for she turned off without a word, and commenced the payment of her debt to Frank. A very torturing and envy-causing game they made of it for me, as I looked frowningly on, wishing most earnestly that she was in my debt, and would pay it as thoroughly.Club Fist was now voted dull, and blindman’s buff proposed. Frank volunteered to be blindfolded, and the game soon became a merry one. Peals of laughter, as all ran helter skelter to avoid him, whispers of stealth as they crept about behind him, and screams of excitement as they just eluded his grasp, added pleasant confusion to the merriment. Frank took good care to arrange the handkerchief so that he could see, though he stumbled about enough to avoid suspicion. He pretended to single out Lulie by her laugh, and soon made her his captive. Then Lulie was blinded, and after a long chase caught one of the girls, who in her turn caught Ned. Frank this time contrived to stumble against Ned, and of course, being caught, wore the handkerchief again. Poor artless I played with all my might, and dodged and tacked with as much earnestness as Acteon did his own dogs. After the bandage had been exchangedmany times I was caught by some one, but just as I was preparing to become as blind as Melctal, Frank said we had had enough of the game, and all agreed to quit. We amused ourselves in various ways for an hour or so longer, Frank making an almost entire monopoly of Lulie, while I hung around with dogged expectancy of a chance after a while. After another hour’s interval supper was announced, and each of the boys took his engagée to the supper hall. I went sullenly alone. The room was densely crowded, and the clatter of plates and dishes, the jingle of glasses, the hum of voices, the popping of corks and cracker bon bons, and the general noise of the bustle to and fro, confused and deafened me. The grown people from the other hall were there, and boys and girls, beaux and belles of whiskers and satins, all mingled in an incongruous and grotesque mass. Squeezing my way down the table I found myself opposite to Frank and Lulie, and, as I saw him engaging her in conversation, or piling up her plate with delicacies, overwhelming her with constant and tender attentions, which were received as tenderly by her, jealousy deprived me of all appetite, and I strove to divert my attention by observing those around me. As I glanced down the long tables, a double vista of snowy necks and arms, white waistcoats, flashing jewels, sparkling fans, with an occasional raising here and there of a white glove, or a cobweb handkerchief, appeared as if on dress parade, ranged in open order for the table to march through. Here a vivacious beauty raised a dainty bit on her fork, and poising it at her mouth as she finished a remark, looked as if the fork were a doctor, and she had sore throat; there a languid youth dipped his downy attempt at a moustache in a glass of wine, and a little farther on a courting couple, without originality, seemed actually interested in the verses on the candies. But however engaged, at what stage soever of the supper they arrived, everybody seemed to be of some interest to somebodyelse, except myself. I was emphatically alone. I was getting desperate, and turned to leave the table, when I glanced at Lulie, and saw that Frank had left her side temporarily. As she caught my eye, she said, with her sweetest smile:“John, won’t you please get me some frozen cream, this on the stand has all melted; Frank has gone now to see if he can find a waiter who knows anything about the table. The confusion is quite confusing;” and she coughed with an affected air behind her fan, as if her last sentence had been quite an effort.Glad to be of any service to anybody, I bowed, and, taking her proffered plate, dived into the throng, to make my way to the freezers. Now nearly run over by a hastening waiter, now in the way of a retiring couple, often spilling little streams of the melted cream over the black cloth of a gentleman, or the pearly silk of a lady, and, before I could recover from their indignant glance or muttered objurgations, having it tilted into my own bosom by some passers, I at length reached the stand on which was placed the freezing apparatus. Here I had to wait till all patience was exhausted before I could get what I wished, but, stubbornly determined, I stood my ground, and at length received my plate, heaped up as if for a glutton. To return with a running-over plate was indeed more perilous than my journey thither. I was threading my way carefully along, and had proceeded half way down the room, when I met Frank and Lulie leaving.“Oh! you found it after all,” she said, as she saw me approaching, carrying the dripping plate out at arm’s length, as if it were a hot kettle, “I am very much obliged for the trouble you have taken, but Frank brought me some a short time after you left.”I was too much chagrined to reply, but giving Frank a dagger look as they passed out, I threw the plate down onthe nearest table, and left the room. I resolved, as soon as I could get an interview with Lulie, to load her with reproaches, and bid her farewell forever. But on going back to the party room I saw Lulie sitting by herself, Frank having left her for awhile. I determined to go immediately to her and have my talk out with her, but felt like modifying very much the bitterness of its spirit. What we say in a person’s presence is very much less than what we think we will say before we see them.I went over and took a seat by Lulie, and for the first time in the evening felt a little gleam of pleasure in my heart. She received me kindly, and made some trifling remark about my being out of spirits, but I did not heed her. Coming, like a boy, bluntly to the point, I asked:“Lulie, do you like Frank Paning? I do not, he tries to be so smart.”“Why, yes,” she said, coloring a little, and biting the tip of her fan, “I do like him some; surely you don’t dislike him for being smart.”“I don’t mean smart that way; but there’s another bigger reason than that: he is always with you when I want to be.”“Well, that’s your fault,” she replied, looking at me archly. “I am sure if he comes to me first you can’t expect me to drive him away for you, can you?”“But he’s been with you all to-night, and I have not had a chance to even talk with you a minute. I wanted to carry you to the supper, but of course he was ahead of me.”“You ought to have asked me before he did.”“Even if I had you would have preferred going with him, wouldn’t you?”“Oh! I must not say, it might flatter you.”“I wish,” I muttered savagely, “he was back in South Carolina, or wherever he came from.”“I certainly do not,” she said, with some warmth; “I thought you and Frank were great friends.”“We were at first, but ever since he lied to Miss Hester, I have not had any use for him.”“I was angry with him myself that day,” she said, after a little pause, and with a slight change in her tone, “but he has made it all right since. He says he did not see any reason why he should take a whipping when he could get out of it without telling a lie. I cried real hard, though, that day about you and Ned.”“I don’t expect you cried much for me; ‘twas all for Ned.”This I said as a feeler, and I watched closely, as well as vainly, to discover some sign of emotion in her reply.“No, indeed,” she said, looking straight at me, without any drooping of the timorous eyelids, as I had expected; “I felt as if I could take half your blows.”“I would have them doubled to hear you say so,” I replied, with great warmth and an attempt at a theatrical pressure of my heart, which, however, failed in its effect, from my ignorance of the exact location of that vital organ.The conversation was now beginning to assume for me a most agreeable turn, and I was beginning to feel recompensed for all my chagrin of the evening, when, to my unspeakable horror I saw William, our servant, coming across the room with my cloak in his hand.“Marse John, your father says it is time for you to come home. Here is your cloak mistis sent.”The reversion of feeling was too strong for utterance, and with a choked voice and swimming eyes I rose, and, without a word of parting to Lulie, went out with William. Just as I reached the outer door I met Frank coming in. He bowed with mock reverence, and said, with a sneer:“Good night, little baby; go to your cradle.”“I’ll whip you to-morrow!” was all I could grind out between my clenched teeth, while he ran, laughing, into the hall. As I groped my way down the steps, my eyes all blinded with tears, I heard some one say:“Here come the band! they are going to play for the children.”This was the last feather on the camel’s back of my fortitude, and I broke down into sobbing.To have Lulie think I was babyish, and had to be sent for; to have our conversation broken off so suddenly, when it was becoming so pleasant; to leave a scene of gaiety before it was finished, and then, too, when the best part was coming, and, above all, to have my hated rival triumph in my humiliation, was enough to have crushed a stouter heart than mine.When we reached the corner, round which we turned into our street, William stopped, and said:“There! listen at the music!”I wiped away the tears from my eyes, and looked back at the building. ‘Twas brightly illuminated, and indistinct forms could be seen passing to and fro at the windows. A quick, lively air from the band came floating to my ears, and I knew Frank was by Lulie’s side.“Oh, William,” I sobbed, “I—do—want—to—go back—so bad.”“I think it was a pity marster sent for you so soon,” he said, “but you are done and away now, and we’d better go on home.”Wretched, indeed, I ascended the steps at home, and was met at the door by father.“Well, Johnnie,” he said, locking the door after I had gotten in, “this is right late for a little boy to be up, isn’t it? What! crying! What is the matter?”“Father—, I did—hate to—leave—so much—. The—band was coming—to play—for us—and I was just—beginning to—see some—fun.”“I am sorry I broke you up,” he said, kindly, “but it is very late, and much for the best that you should be at home. Good night; run up to bed.”I went up to my room, and tumbled on the bed with my clothes on. My mind was full of bitter, burning thoughts. I fancied I could still hear the band, and whenever I closed my eyes Lulie’s form, with Frank hovering near, rose to my vision.Next morning I rose with a headache, and for relief walked out. My steps involuntarily led me to the scene of my chagrin, and in a sad kind of reverie I wandered through the rooms.‘Tis sad food for reflection to visit a ball room the morning after the ball. Dreary silence has taken the place of noisy mirth and revelry, and the walls and floor look wan in the yellow sunlight, as if suffering from their night’s dissipation. The chandeliers quiver their pendent prisms at your approach, and tinkle a drowsy salutation. Around the music stand are scattered a leaf or two of music, fragments of rosin, and half sucked lemons; along the floor we pick up a fallen wreath, a slipper’s rosette, or a torn fragment of tarlatan. These are all that remind us of the whirling throng that mingled here.‘Tis very much like life! We thoughtlessly dance upon its arena, and departing leave behind us, some at least, the evergreen wreath, some the tarnished rosette of pleasures tried and found empty, and some the poor torn shred of fruitless ambition.

CHAPTER V.On the morning succeeding the day described in the last chapter, father startled me very much at the breakfast table, by asking:“John, how would you like to commence school? you are getting too old to be playing all the time.”“Oh, ever so much!” I replied, eagerly, watching his face closely, to see if he was in earnest. “Ned Cheyleigh began last session, and I can read and spell as well as he can now, so it will be easy for me to keep up.”“Well, I saw Miss Hester Weck about it yesterday, and she said she would be very glad to take you, so you can get ready to start to-morrow morning.”I was too much excited to eat any more, but began teazing mother to begin right away on my school outfit.“Mother, I want a satchel to carry my books in, and a basket for my luncheon; and, mother, please get me a string for my top, because all the boys play top, and I broke my string yesterday; and father, please sir, get me a knife to peel apples and to cut pencils with, and a piece of leather to make me a sling, and a——”“Hush, Johnnie,” said mother, “be quiet, and I will be sure to have you ready. The school room is just around the corner, so you can come home for your lunch; and as your ‘books’ only consist of one ‘Angell’s First Book’ you will hardly need a bag.”I gulped down a mouthful of food, then hastening from the table, I got my Reader and devoted the whole morning to picking out all the hard words and spelling them over. By dinner time I had mastered nearly all of them, and could read with considerable fluency the pathetic tale of retributive justice which befel the cruel James Killfly.That evening when father came in he brought me a beautiful knife with a file blade in it. To possess a knife with a file blade had always been one of the unattained pinnacles of my ambition—this appurtenance, in my eyes, being the verytoga virilisof cutlery; and as my property in this department had hitherto consisted of blunt pointed Barlows, and fatigued looking dog knives, with their edges purposely made dull, to be the undisputed owner of an exquisite pearl handled knife, with brightest blades, placed me at once upon the pinnacle, and I enjoyed the situation. I was never tired of opening and snapping the blades, and blowing my breath upon them, as the larger boys did, to test their metal. I trimmed my pencil quite away, because the cedar cut smoothly, and the chairs suffered as severely as Washington, Sr.’s, cherry tree did.I rose next morning with the sun, and was busying everywhere in my preparations for school. Breakfast finished, with my book in my hand, and that adored knife inmy pocket, I started with father for the school. I felt a little sinking about the heart as I kissed mother good-bye and descended the steps, and would, had I not been ashamed, have shrunk from the new life I was entering, and gone back to the old routine of play. As we turned our corner I looked back, and mother was still standing in the door, gazing thoughtfully after us. I could not then understand or appreciate her feelings, but I can now.Miss Hester answered our tap at her door in person, and invited us in to a seat. I shrank closer to father as the curious eyes of the scholars were all turned towards me, and I found no kindly sympathy in the glances. Father took a seat and entered into conversation with Miss Hester, while I timidly surveyed the apartment where my ideas were to be taught to shoot.Miss Hester Weck kept a small preparatory school for girls and boys, and ruled it with old maidish particularity. All the scholars had to sit up straight on three rows of benches, which were so arranged with reference to Miss Hester’s seat that she could have a full view of all. None were allowed to speak or laugh, and as for rocking backwards and forwards, a motion believed by children to be conducive to study and essential to retention, the thing was unheard of in Miss Hester’s school. Some, indeed, had tried it on first entering, but after one or two interviews with Miss Hester’s rod they had learned to study in one position. On one side of the room was a row of pegs for the girls’ hats and bonnets, and on the opposite side a similar row for the boys’. At one end of the room was the rostrum on which our monarch sat, and at the other was a long desk, covered with ink splotches, at which the scholars wrote. Having completed my survey of the room I turned my attention to the scholars, and scanned their faces closely, as I was to associate, more or less intimately, with all of them. They were all, with the exception of two orthree, munching the corners of their books, and staring steadily at father and me. There were five occupants of the front bench, who, I thought, from their position, must be first grade scholars. The first was a tall, raw-boned girl, with sandy hair and freckled face, and light gray eyes, turned up at the corners, giving her a sinister and Chinese expression that assured me of victimization. Next to her was her brother, a small and sleepy second edition of herself, not at all revised or corrected. Then came a bright-eyed little fellow who was engaged in the pleasant diversion of making hideous faces at me. At his side was a fat, redheaded girl, who was the only one studying; and lastly, a stupid, tow-haired youth, whose straight flax hair looked as if it had been hung on his head to dry, and had dried stiff, and who was gazing at me as if I were vacancy.The second bench held three girls and two boys, who resembled in many particulars those on the first bench. On number three I recognized, to my great joy, Ned Cheyleigh and Lulie Mayland, and to my annoyance Frank Paning. Before we had concluded our interchange of whispered salutations, father rose and said to Miss Hester:“I will now leave him with you. He is a good boy and easy enough to manage, though a little inclined to mischief.”“Oh, I will take care of that,” she said. “We will be first rate friends; won’t we, Johnnie?”Father left me, the door closed on him, and I was beginning to enter Life’s shallowest waters alone.“Come here, Johnnie,” said Miss Hester, “let me see how much you know, so that I can put you in a class.”I rose, and with a great swelling knot in my throat, drew my book from my side pocket and carried it to her.“How far have you been in this?” she said, as she carelessly fluttered over the leaves.“I went clear through it, ma’am, under mother.”“Well, let me see how you spell; spell ‘honest’?”I had begun, at first, spelling by recollecting how the letters looked on the page, but mother had broken me from it and taught me to spell words by their sound. Accordingly I stammered out, while my eyes filled with tears and the knot in my throat almost choked me:“O-n-n-e-s-t—Onnest.”At this Frank Paning led off with a laugh, followed by the whole school. A rap on Miss Hester’s desk secured silence, and she proceeded.“Don’t be so frightened, child, try another word; spell ‘Business.’”Knowledge of everything, save the names of the letters, was gone, and I blindly blurted out:“B-i-z-z-i-n-e-double ess!” I broke down completely and stood there trying to hide my crying, while the perverse tears would drop on the floor, and my nose, treacherous organ, required constant snuffling or the tell-tale use of my handkerchief.Another titter was heard, but Miss Hester repressed it, and said in her kindest tone:“Poor child, you are too much agitated to spell. I will put you, for the present, in a class with Lulie Mayland and Edward Cheyleigh. Go there, and let her show you where the lesson is.”As I started across the room a wad of chewed paper struck me in the face. I did not see who threw it, but Miss Hester did, and calling up Frank Paning gave him a sound whipping.Sitting down with Ned and Lulie I felt more at my ease, and by the time recess was announced, felt like joining in the games. All was clatter and chatter as we poured from the door, and the scholars forgot I was a “newy” in the excitement of the play. The game of “goosey” was proposed and commenced. We separated to our bases, and at thecall advanced. Scampering hither and thither, some tried to catch, some to be caught. I dodged, in good earnest, both boys and girls, and endeavored to reach the opposite base with a zeal that would have adorned a fanatic. But it was no use; the tall and freckled girl singled me out, and with a speed that would have disdained Atalanta’s apples, pursued steadily, and with the utmost perseverance, after me. No matter how I twisted, turned and doubled, still she was behind me, nearer and nearer, never relaxing her speed, while with every backward glance I gave, her brown calico dress flew higher and higher, and her parrot-toed feet stepped over each other more and more swiftly.Of course she overhauled me, and, catching me by the lower edge of my jacket, triumphantly dragged me backwards to the base, in the style known as “walking turkey.” Throughout the whole game it was my fate to be caught by the girls, but I was not over timid on this score, and rather enjoyed it. At one o’clock I ran home for lunch, and gave father and mother a detailed account of my morning’s experience, omitting the crying scene. I returned to the school room with a light heart, and, as children are not very formal, was soon acquainted with all the scholars. Frank met me first, and begged my pardon for his rudeness in the morning. He made himself so kind and attentive to me that my prejudices against him imperceptibly began to wear off, though I could not help observing that he was overbearing to those who were meaner dressed than himself, and whom he considered his inferiors.As the days wore on I had time to form intimacies, and I found one friend in the school whom I could “grapple unto my soul with hooks of steel.”Between Edward Cheyleigh and myself there sprang up the most lasting friendship. He was the most noble hearted boy I ever knew. Manly and firm to the last degree, yet gentle and soft as a girl in his manners; full of life andgaiety, yet no amount of persuasion could make him yield his consent to what he thought was wrong. He was, in consequence, rather unpopular with the scholars, and I have often seen his face flush at a sneer about his being the favorite, after a refusal to join in some plan to worry Miss Hester. I used to admire his firmness and moral courage, and long to imitate his example, but I was too much afraid of the ridicule of the school, and I would often forfeit Ned’s approval rather than face the jeers of so many.As the session passed on I lost all my reserve, and, with the absence of embarrassment, came my love for fun. I was soon up to all the tricks of school, and an expert in their performance. I was perfect in the art of chewing and shooting paper, and William Tell took no more pride in his apple feat than did I in the accuracy with which I could plant a two inch pulp in a boy’s forehead across the room, and never attract a glance from Miss Hester. I could gauge a pin to the exact desideratum of pain, as I inserted it just above my neighbor’s point of contact with the bench. I could stand up and call out, “M’ I g’ out?” as loudly as the boldest, or assume, with perfect ease, the don’t care expression and slinging gait, after a mortifying attempt at recitation. These accomplishments were only acquired after months of timidity and practice, but by degrees I became a ringleader in all the mischief, and many were the difficulties I became involved in. Frank Paning always joined us in our schemes, but somehow generally managed to escape the punishment that fell on the rest of us.One day Miss Hester was later coming than usual. We had all assembled, and waited patiently for her some time, when Frank suddenly proposed that we bar her out, and make her give us holiday. His proposition was agreed to by several, of which I was the first; while all the girls, and two or three of the very small boys, went outside to wait for her. We commenced our operations with vigor, pilingup chairs, tables, and Miss Hester’s desk, against the door, in our haste turning the ink over the copy books and papers, and scattering the pens and rulers generally. As we concluded our arrangements, we observed Ned still inside, sitting quietly at his usual corner.“Why, hallo, Ned!” said Frank, “I thought you were outside with the other girls. Why don’t you go?”“Because I don’t wish to,” Ned replied, quietly, rubbing out one figure on his slate with a wet forefinger and putting down another.“But you won’t tell on us, will you?” asks a timid one.“I shall not tell on any one, as it is none of my business;” and Ned bent over his slate as if that was all he had to say.“All right! here she comes ’round the corner,” exclaimed two or three excited ones, peeping through a crevice in the window. “Wonder what the old lady will do?”Sure enough Miss Hester was coming, walking with all the majesty of a teacher, and carrying demoralization to our garrison by her very presence. As she came up we could hear a chorus of shrill voices crying:“Lor! Miss Hester, what do you think? the boys have locked us and you out, and say they won’t let us in till you promise to give ’em holiday.”She did not reply, but we heard her come up the steps, and shake the door two or three times. Finding it barred, there was an ominous silence of a minute or two, then another more violent shake. The more timorous of our number now wished to open the door, and surrender unconditionally; but Frank and I, by dint of hard persuasion, and by representing to them that this course would not palliate their sin, induced them to hold out. She left the house, and went off, walking rapidly. The advocates of surrender now gained strength, but we argued and plead them into a little more obduracy. Before our council of war had ended Miss Hester returned with a carpenter, and we felt that thebattle was hers. We got our books, took our seats, and watched, with anxious eyes, the door, as it creaked and strained with every blow. A moment more and it flew open, scattering our barricade in every direction, and Miss Hester marched in victorious. Having dismissed the carpenter, and put things to rights, she turned her attention to the perpetrators of the deed. We saw, from the miniature thunder cloud that had gathered between her brows, that there was no hope for mercy, so we prepared to meet our fate resignedly. Calling us all up in a row, she began at the top of the roll:“Eliza Atly, were you inside or outside?”Miss Eliza Atly, the freckled girl, with corner-drawn eyes, is delighted to testify that she was outside.“Abram Barn, outside or inside?”Abram Barn, the small, fat boy, with puffy cheeks and dry tow hair, bubbles out his answer as if it were liquid:“Out chide, m’m!”“Edward Cheyleigh?”“Inside, ma’am.”“Edward! I am surprised at that. Did you bar the door against me?”“No, madam.”“Do you know who did it?”“Yes, ma’am, I do, but I cannot tell.”Miss Hester’s face flushed, as she said, sternly:“Those who conceal are as guilty as those who commit.”She proceeded down the roll, receiving confessions from some, and denials from others, till she came to Frank’s name.“Frank Paning,” she said, with her darkest frown, “did you bar my door?”“No, madam, I did not.”He had been nailing down the windows while we were barring the door.“Did you see who did it?”“I did not see any one do it. When I looked the door was all barred up tight.”Every one looked at him in amazement, but he replied by a smirk of conceit at his success.“John Smith, did you help to keep me out?” thundered Miss Hester, her patience all gone.“Yes, ma’am, I did.”“That will do; you can all take your seats.”My name completed the roll, and she laid aside the book, and took up the rod. After some remarks on the enormity of our offence, and the surprise she felt that some of her best scholars should have countenanced it, and that it was her unpleasant duty to punish all concerned, she proceeded to call up the offenders in order.“Edward Cheyleigh, come here, sir. I regret very much the necessity of punishing you, as it is the first time, and I have never before even reproved you; but the offence is very grievous, and as you know who did it, and won’t tell, you are accessory to the deed. Hold out your hand!”I could stand it no longer, as Ned, with his face crimson from mortification, yet his head erect with conscious innocence, held out his hand for the undeserved blows, but springing from my seat, I cried:“Miss Hester, Ned had nothing to do with it. We all begged him to join us, but he wouldn’t; and if you are going to whip him, let me take his share.”“Stand back, sir,” she said sternly, “your time will come soon enough. Your hand, Edward.”He extended each palm, and received the cutting blows without a quiver, then turned to his seat. As he sat down his fortitude gave way, and, burying his face in his hands, he burst into sobbing.My time came last, but so much did I feel for Ned that I scarce heeded the stinging ferule. Miss Hester, after some further remarks, dismissed us for the evening. As we pouredfrom the door, the occasion furnished food for more chattering than a cargo of magpies could have made.“Wasn’t old Hess mad, though?” says one, whose hand was still red from the ruler.“She couldn’t get much out of my hand with her old slapjack,” boasts another, rubbing his hands unconsciously on his pants, in striking contradiction of his assertion.As Frank Paning came out I heard him say:“But didn’t I get out of it nice?”“Yes, you sneaked out like a dog,” I replied indignantly. Another chimed in:“Yes, you did. Ned Cheyleigh’s good game, though. I don’t believe he ever would have told old Hess, if she had beat him till now.”“Umph!” sneered Frank, “‘twas because he was afraid to tell. He knew some of us would whip him if he did.”Ned was coming down the steps, the traces of tears still on his cheeks, when he heard Frank’s remarks.The crimson on his face gave place to the white hue of anger, as he walked up to Frank and said:“You lie. I dare you to try it.”Frank looked sheepish, but the boys were all around him, and he felt that he must fight, so, laying down his books, he met Ned.What a momentous subject of interest is a fight between school boys! A duel between senators excites not more proportionate attention.These only passed a couple of blows, then clinched and fell, Frank underneath. What digging in the ground with heels and toes! Frank trying to wring his body from under Ned, and Ned trying to hold him down; while the enthusiastic spectators clapped their hands and shouted as the tide of battle wavered:“Oh my, Ned! Hold him down! Turn him over, Frank! Throw out your leg and push! Jerk his hands up, Ned,” etc., etc.After several futile struggles Frank gave up, cried “Enough!” and both arose considerably soiled and blown.I took Ned in charge, and we started home, I brushing the dirt from his clothes, and endeavoring to remove all traces of the conflict.“Ned,” I said, as we reached Mr. Cheyleigh’s gate, “I am so sorry I got you into this trouble.”“Oh, never mind that,” he replied cheerfully. “I hated it on account of its being my first, but I wasn’t in fault any way, and I wouldn’t tell her now to save her life.”Ned was human, and could not but feel anger at his undeserved punishment.We parted, and I hastened home. Anticipating Miss Hester’s narration of the affair, I gave a faithful account of it; taking care to describe our conduct as “having just locked her out for a little fun,” and descanting, in glowing terms, on her cruelty to Ned. Father’s brow darkened, and he shook his head ominously when I had concluded.“John,” he said at length, and I knew by his tone that he did not see the joke as I did, “this will not do. You are always getting in some school difficulty. I must look into this affair and learn the true state of the case. Go, get your supper and then go to bed. I will see you in the morning.”I sullenly went into the dining room and partook of the meal, with gloomy forebodings of the morrow, for I knew, from experience, that the “seeing” in the morning meant something more than vision.I went to my chamber and got to bed, but not to sleep (for it was too soon for that, and I could still hear out doors the sounds of day life and activity); but to ruminate on the injustice of Miss Hester, father and the world generally. I felt that father should have taken my part and not threatened another punishment, when I had alreadyexpiated my fault at Miss Hester’s hands. I took a gloomy delight in forgetting all his kindness, and bringing up to memory all his chastisements and reproofs, and I finally came to the conclusion that I was a poor, persecuted little martyr, that nobody cared for me, and that it would be such a sweet revenge to bundle up all my clothes in a handkerchief and run away. I thought how fine it would be to go far away where no one ever heard of our home, and achieve an immense fortune; and when, at last, everybody thought me dead, and father was sufficiently penitent for his cruelty, to return in a gilded chariot, with several dozen white horses, and riding up before our door in great state, inquire if Col. Smith, the father of an exiled child, lived there. The only obstacle to my fugitive project was the lack of somewhere to run to; and as no suitable place presented itself to my mind, I gave up the scheme for the present, always to be renewed, though, when aggrieved, and always to be as far from execution. I persevered, however, in my misanthropic musings till I had rendered myself thoroughly miserable, when my reverie was broken by the entrance of mother, who came and sat down on the edge of my bed. Taking my hand in her soft palm, she said:“Tell me all about your difficulty, Johnnie. How did it occur?” Turning my face from the wet, warm pillow up to her’s, I gave a full recital of all, throwing in towards the last a few reflections on father’s harsh treatment, as it appeared to me.“Hush! hush! Johnnie, you must not speak so. I know it seems hard to you, but it was well calculated to provoke your father. This is the fourth or fifth time you have been punished this session, and he knew it would not do to encourage you in such rebellious conduct.”I remained silent and grum, and mother continued:“I know boys think it very manly and brave to be insubordinate at school, and to show all the disrespect they canto the teachers; if they are reproved to reply pertly, and if they are chastised, to bear it without flinching. All these are foolishly considered marks of great spirit. But it is a very mistaken idea. Is it not wrong, culpably wrong, to obstruct and impede the labors of those who are striving to do us good? The very fact of their being compensated renders them responsible to parents and guardians for a more careful instruction of those placed under their charge, and yet you endeavor by every means to prevent the discharge of this responsibility, even though you are to receive the benefit. The teacher’s task is a difficult one any way, and you should strive to lighten the burden, by prompt and ready obedience, instead of scheming to make it heavier. Miss Hester is an old lady, and entitled to our respect from her very age; and then she is alone in the world; she has no one to look to for protection, and makes all her living by her little school. How shameful and sinful, then, to tease and trouble her! No wonder she lost her patience when she found herself locked out of her own house, compelled to stand in the street, a laughing-stock for the passers by. And see, too, another consequence of your fun, as you called it: your little playmate, Ned Cheyleigh, who had the manliness to refuse to join you, is punished equally with the guilty, and has to suffer for your fault. I like fun and innocent mischief myself, but never let it be enjoyed at the expense of another’s feelings.”Her kind words and manner unnerved me, and the black cloud in my heart poured its rain from my eyes, as I sobbed out:“I—didn’t—mean—to hurt—her—feelings—, and—I’ll—beg—father’s pardon—and hers—the first—thing—in—the—morning. I told—Ned—how sorry—I was—about—him—this—evening.”“Well, I hope you will let this prove a lesson to you for the future. It’s getting late; good night.”As she left the room I turned over on my pillow, took another hearty pull at my tears, and was then at Morpheus’ service.

On the morning succeeding the day described in the last chapter, father startled me very much at the breakfast table, by asking:

“John, how would you like to commence school? you are getting too old to be playing all the time.”

“Oh, ever so much!” I replied, eagerly, watching his face closely, to see if he was in earnest. “Ned Cheyleigh began last session, and I can read and spell as well as he can now, so it will be easy for me to keep up.”

“Well, I saw Miss Hester Weck about it yesterday, and she said she would be very glad to take you, so you can get ready to start to-morrow morning.”

I was too much excited to eat any more, but began teazing mother to begin right away on my school outfit.

“Mother, I want a satchel to carry my books in, and a basket for my luncheon; and, mother, please get me a string for my top, because all the boys play top, and I broke my string yesterday; and father, please sir, get me a knife to peel apples and to cut pencils with, and a piece of leather to make me a sling, and a——”

“Hush, Johnnie,” said mother, “be quiet, and I will be sure to have you ready. The school room is just around the corner, so you can come home for your lunch; and as your ‘books’ only consist of one ‘Angell’s First Book’ you will hardly need a bag.”

I gulped down a mouthful of food, then hastening from the table, I got my Reader and devoted the whole morning to picking out all the hard words and spelling them over. By dinner time I had mastered nearly all of them, and could read with considerable fluency the pathetic tale of retributive justice which befel the cruel James Killfly.

That evening when father came in he brought me a beautiful knife with a file blade in it. To possess a knife with a file blade had always been one of the unattained pinnacles of my ambition—this appurtenance, in my eyes, being the verytoga virilisof cutlery; and as my property in this department had hitherto consisted of blunt pointed Barlows, and fatigued looking dog knives, with their edges purposely made dull, to be the undisputed owner of an exquisite pearl handled knife, with brightest blades, placed me at once upon the pinnacle, and I enjoyed the situation. I was never tired of opening and snapping the blades, and blowing my breath upon them, as the larger boys did, to test their metal. I trimmed my pencil quite away, because the cedar cut smoothly, and the chairs suffered as severely as Washington, Sr.’s, cherry tree did.

I rose next morning with the sun, and was busying everywhere in my preparations for school. Breakfast finished, with my book in my hand, and that adored knife inmy pocket, I started with father for the school. I felt a little sinking about the heart as I kissed mother good-bye and descended the steps, and would, had I not been ashamed, have shrunk from the new life I was entering, and gone back to the old routine of play. As we turned our corner I looked back, and mother was still standing in the door, gazing thoughtfully after us. I could not then understand or appreciate her feelings, but I can now.

Miss Hester answered our tap at her door in person, and invited us in to a seat. I shrank closer to father as the curious eyes of the scholars were all turned towards me, and I found no kindly sympathy in the glances. Father took a seat and entered into conversation with Miss Hester, while I timidly surveyed the apartment where my ideas were to be taught to shoot.

Miss Hester Weck kept a small preparatory school for girls and boys, and ruled it with old maidish particularity. All the scholars had to sit up straight on three rows of benches, which were so arranged with reference to Miss Hester’s seat that she could have a full view of all. None were allowed to speak or laugh, and as for rocking backwards and forwards, a motion believed by children to be conducive to study and essential to retention, the thing was unheard of in Miss Hester’s school. Some, indeed, had tried it on first entering, but after one or two interviews with Miss Hester’s rod they had learned to study in one position. On one side of the room was a row of pegs for the girls’ hats and bonnets, and on the opposite side a similar row for the boys’. At one end of the room was the rostrum on which our monarch sat, and at the other was a long desk, covered with ink splotches, at which the scholars wrote. Having completed my survey of the room I turned my attention to the scholars, and scanned their faces closely, as I was to associate, more or less intimately, with all of them. They were all, with the exception of two orthree, munching the corners of their books, and staring steadily at father and me. There were five occupants of the front bench, who, I thought, from their position, must be first grade scholars. The first was a tall, raw-boned girl, with sandy hair and freckled face, and light gray eyes, turned up at the corners, giving her a sinister and Chinese expression that assured me of victimization. Next to her was her brother, a small and sleepy second edition of herself, not at all revised or corrected. Then came a bright-eyed little fellow who was engaged in the pleasant diversion of making hideous faces at me. At his side was a fat, redheaded girl, who was the only one studying; and lastly, a stupid, tow-haired youth, whose straight flax hair looked as if it had been hung on his head to dry, and had dried stiff, and who was gazing at me as if I were vacancy.

The second bench held three girls and two boys, who resembled in many particulars those on the first bench. On number three I recognized, to my great joy, Ned Cheyleigh and Lulie Mayland, and to my annoyance Frank Paning. Before we had concluded our interchange of whispered salutations, father rose and said to Miss Hester:

“I will now leave him with you. He is a good boy and easy enough to manage, though a little inclined to mischief.”

“Oh, I will take care of that,” she said. “We will be first rate friends; won’t we, Johnnie?”

Father left me, the door closed on him, and I was beginning to enter Life’s shallowest waters alone.

“Come here, Johnnie,” said Miss Hester, “let me see how much you know, so that I can put you in a class.”

I rose, and with a great swelling knot in my throat, drew my book from my side pocket and carried it to her.

“How far have you been in this?” she said, as she carelessly fluttered over the leaves.

“I went clear through it, ma’am, under mother.”

“Well, let me see how you spell; spell ‘honest’?”

I had begun, at first, spelling by recollecting how the letters looked on the page, but mother had broken me from it and taught me to spell words by their sound. Accordingly I stammered out, while my eyes filled with tears and the knot in my throat almost choked me:

“O-n-n-e-s-t—Onnest.”

At this Frank Paning led off with a laugh, followed by the whole school. A rap on Miss Hester’s desk secured silence, and she proceeded.

“Don’t be so frightened, child, try another word; spell ‘Business.’”

Knowledge of everything, save the names of the letters, was gone, and I blindly blurted out:

“B-i-z-z-i-n-e-double ess!” I broke down completely and stood there trying to hide my crying, while the perverse tears would drop on the floor, and my nose, treacherous organ, required constant snuffling or the tell-tale use of my handkerchief.

Another titter was heard, but Miss Hester repressed it, and said in her kindest tone:

“Poor child, you are too much agitated to spell. I will put you, for the present, in a class with Lulie Mayland and Edward Cheyleigh. Go there, and let her show you where the lesson is.”

As I started across the room a wad of chewed paper struck me in the face. I did not see who threw it, but Miss Hester did, and calling up Frank Paning gave him a sound whipping.

Sitting down with Ned and Lulie I felt more at my ease, and by the time recess was announced, felt like joining in the games. All was clatter and chatter as we poured from the door, and the scholars forgot I was a “newy” in the excitement of the play. The game of “goosey” was proposed and commenced. We separated to our bases, and at thecall advanced. Scampering hither and thither, some tried to catch, some to be caught. I dodged, in good earnest, both boys and girls, and endeavored to reach the opposite base with a zeal that would have adorned a fanatic. But it was no use; the tall and freckled girl singled me out, and with a speed that would have disdained Atalanta’s apples, pursued steadily, and with the utmost perseverance, after me. No matter how I twisted, turned and doubled, still she was behind me, nearer and nearer, never relaxing her speed, while with every backward glance I gave, her brown calico dress flew higher and higher, and her parrot-toed feet stepped over each other more and more swiftly.

Of course she overhauled me, and, catching me by the lower edge of my jacket, triumphantly dragged me backwards to the base, in the style known as “walking turkey.” Throughout the whole game it was my fate to be caught by the girls, but I was not over timid on this score, and rather enjoyed it. At one o’clock I ran home for lunch, and gave father and mother a detailed account of my morning’s experience, omitting the crying scene. I returned to the school room with a light heart, and, as children are not very formal, was soon acquainted with all the scholars. Frank met me first, and begged my pardon for his rudeness in the morning. He made himself so kind and attentive to me that my prejudices against him imperceptibly began to wear off, though I could not help observing that he was overbearing to those who were meaner dressed than himself, and whom he considered his inferiors.

As the days wore on I had time to form intimacies, and I found one friend in the school whom I could “grapple unto my soul with hooks of steel.”

Between Edward Cheyleigh and myself there sprang up the most lasting friendship. He was the most noble hearted boy I ever knew. Manly and firm to the last degree, yet gentle and soft as a girl in his manners; full of life andgaiety, yet no amount of persuasion could make him yield his consent to what he thought was wrong. He was, in consequence, rather unpopular with the scholars, and I have often seen his face flush at a sneer about his being the favorite, after a refusal to join in some plan to worry Miss Hester. I used to admire his firmness and moral courage, and long to imitate his example, but I was too much afraid of the ridicule of the school, and I would often forfeit Ned’s approval rather than face the jeers of so many.

As the session passed on I lost all my reserve, and, with the absence of embarrassment, came my love for fun. I was soon up to all the tricks of school, and an expert in their performance. I was perfect in the art of chewing and shooting paper, and William Tell took no more pride in his apple feat than did I in the accuracy with which I could plant a two inch pulp in a boy’s forehead across the room, and never attract a glance from Miss Hester. I could gauge a pin to the exact desideratum of pain, as I inserted it just above my neighbor’s point of contact with the bench. I could stand up and call out, “M’ I g’ out?” as loudly as the boldest, or assume, with perfect ease, the don’t care expression and slinging gait, after a mortifying attempt at recitation. These accomplishments were only acquired after months of timidity and practice, but by degrees I became a ringleader in all the mischief, and many were the difficulties I became involved in. Frank Paning always joined us in our schemes, but somehow generally managed to escape the punishment that fell on the rest of us.

One day Miss Hester was later coming than usual. We had all assembled, and waited patiently for her some time, when Frank suddenly proposed that we bar her out, and make her give us holiday. His proposition was agreed to by several, of which I was the first; while all the girls, and two or three of the very small boys, went outside to wait for her. We commenced our operations with vigor, pilingup chairs, tables, and Miss Hester’s desk, against the door, in our haste turning the ink over the copy books and papers, and scattering the pens and rulers generally. As we concluded our arrangements, we observed Ned still inside, sitting quietly at his usual corner.

“Why, hallo, Ned!” said Frank, “I thought you were outside with the other girls. Why don’t you go?”

“Because I don’t wish to,” Ned replied, quietly, rubbing out one figure on his slate with a wet forefinger and putting down another.

“But you won’t tell on us, will you?” asks a timid one.

“I shall not tell on any one, as it is none of my business;” and Ned bent over his slate as if that was all he had to say.

“All right! here she comes ’round the corner,” exclaimed two or three excited ones, peeping through a crevice in the window. “Wonder what the old lady will do?”

Sure enough Miss Hester was coming, walking with all the majesty of a teacher, and carrying demoralization to our garrison by her very presence. As she came up we could hear a chorus of shrill voices crying:

“Lor! Miss Hester, what do you think? the boys have locked us and you out, and say they won’t let us in till you promise to give ’em holiday.”

She did not reply, but we heard her come up the steps, and shake the door two or three times. Finding it barred, there was an ominous silence of a minute or two, then another more violent shake. The more timorous of our number now wished to open the door, and surrender unconditionally; but Frank and I, by dint of hard persuasion, and by representing to them that this course would not palliate their sin, induced them to hold out. She left the house, and went off, walking rapidly. The advocates of surrender now gained strength, but we argued and plead them into a little more obduracy. Before our council of war had ended Miss Hester returned with a carpenter, and we felt that thebattle was hers. We got our books, took our seats, and watched, with anxious eyes, the door, as it creaked and strained with every blow. A moment more and it flew open, scattering our barricade in every direction, and Miss Hester marched in victorious. Having dismissed the carpenter, and put things to rights, she turned her attention to the perpetrators of the deed. We saw, from the miniature thunder cloud that had gathered between her brows, that there was no hope for mercy, so we prepared to meet our fate resignedly. Calling us all up in a row, she began at the top of the roll:

“Eliza Atly, were you inside or outside?”

Miss Eliza Atly, the freckled girl, with corner-drawn eyes, is delighted to testify that she was outside.

“Abram Barn, outside or inside?”

Abram Barn, the small, fat boy, with puffy cheeks and dry tow hair, bubbles out his answer as if it were liquid:

“Out chide, m’m!”

“Edward Cheyleigh?”

“Inside, ma’am.”

“Edward! I am surprised at that. Did you bar the door against me?”

“No, madam.”

“Do you know who did it?”

“Yes, ma’am, I do, but I cannot tell.”

Miss Hester’s face flushed, as she said, sternly:

“Those who conceal are as guilty as those who commit.”

She proceeded down the roll, receiving confessions from some, and denials from others, till she came to Frank’s name.

“Frank Paning,” she said, with her darkest frown, “did you bar my door?”

“No, madam, I did not.”

He had been nailing down the windows while we were barring the door.

“Did you see who did it?”

“I did not see any one do it. When I looked the door was all barred up tight.”

Every one looked at him in amazement, but he replied by a smirk of conceit at his success.

“John Smith, did you help to keep me out?” thundered Miss Hester, her patience all gone.

“Yes, ma’am, I did.”

“That will do; you can all take your seats.”

My name completed the roll, and she laid aside the book, and took up the rod. After some remarks on the enormity of our offence, and the surprise she felt that some of her best scholars should have countenanced it, and that it was her unpleasant duty to punish all concerned, she proceeded to call up the offenders in order.

“Edward Cheyleigh, come here, sir. I regret very much the necessity of punishing you, as it is the first time, and I have never before even reproved you; but the offence is very grievous, and as you know who did it, and won’t tell, you are accessory to the deed. Hold out your hand!”

I could stand it no longer, as Ned, with his face crimson from mortification, yet his head erect with conscious innocence, held out his hand for the undeserved blows, but springing from my seat, I cried:

“Miss Hester, Ned had nothing to do with it. We all begged him to join us, but he wouldn’t; and if you are going to whip him, let me take his share.”

“Stand back, sir,” she said sternly, “your time will come soon enough. Your hand, Edward.”

He extended each palm, and received the cutting blows without a quiver, then turned to his seat. As he sat down his fortitude gave way, and, burying his face in his hands, he burst into sobbing.

My time came last, but so much did I feel for Ned that I scarce heeded the stinging ferule. Miss Hester, after some further remarks, dismissed us for the evening. As we pouredfrom the door, the occasion furnished food for more chattering than a cargo of magpies could have made.

“Wasn’t old Hess mad, though?” says one, whose hand was still red from the ruler.

“She couldn’t get much out of my hand with her old slapjack,” boasts another, rubbing his hands unconsciously on his pants, in striking contradiction of his assertion.

As Frank Paning came out I heard him say:

“But didn’t I get out of it nice?”

“Yes, you sneaked out like a dog,” I replied indignantly. Another chimed in:

“Yes, you did. Ned Cheyleigh’s good game, though. I don’t believe he ever would have told old Hess, if she had beat him till now.”

“Umph!” sneered Frank, “‘twas because he was afraid to tell. He knew some of us would whip him if he did.”

Ned was coming down the steps, the traces of tears still on his cheeks, when he heard Frank’s remarks.

The crimson on his face gave place to the white hue of anger, as he walked up to Frank and said:

“You lie. I dare you to try it.”

Frank looked sheepish, but the boys were all around him, and he felt that he must fight, so, laying down his books, he met Ned.

What a momentous subject of interest is a fight between school boys! A duel between senators excites not more proportionate attention.

These only passed a couple of blows, then clinched and fell, Frank underneath. What digging in the ground with heels and toes! Frank trying to wring his body from under Ned, and Ned trying to hold him down; while the enthusiastic spectators clapped their hands and shouted as the tide of battle wavered:

“Oh my, Ned! Hold him down! Turn him over, Frank! Throw out your leg and push! Jerk his hands up, Ned,” etc., etc.

After several futile struggles Frank gave up, cried “Enough!” and both arose considerably soiled and blown.

I took Ned in charge, and we started home, I brushing the dirt from his clothes, and endeavoring to remove all traces of the conflict.

“Ned,” I said, as we reached Mr. Cheyleigh’s gate, “I am so sorry I got you into this trouble.”

“Oh, never mind that,” he replied cheerfully. “I hated it on account of its being my first, but I wasn’t in fault any way, and I wouldn’t tell her now to save her life.”

Ned was human, and could not but feel anger at his undeserved punishment.

We parted, and I hastened home. Anticipating Miss Hester’s narration of the affair, I gave a faithful account of it; taking care to describe our conduct as “having just locked her out for a little fun,” and descanting, in glowing terms, on her cruelty to Ned. Father’s brow darkened, and he shook his head ominously when I had concluded.

“John,” he said at length, and I knew by his tone that he did not see the joke as I did, “this will not do. You are always getting in some school difficulty. I must look into this affair and learn the true state of the case. Go, get your supper and then go to bed. I will see you in the morning.”

I sullenly went into the dining room and partook of the meal, with gloomy forebodings of the morrow, for I knew, from experience, that the “seeing” in the morning meant something more than vision.

I went to my chamber and got to bed, but not to sleep (for it was too soon for that, and I could still hear out doors the sounds of day life and activity); but to ruminate on the injustice of Miss Hester, father and the world generally. I felt that father should have taken my part and not threatened another punishment, when I had alreadyexpiated my fault at Miss Hester’s hands. I took a gloomy delight in forgetting all his kindness, and bringing up to memory all his chastisements and reproofs, and I finally came to the conclusion that I was a poor, persecuted little martyr, that nobody cared for me, and that it would be such a sweet revenge to bundle up all my clothes in a handkerchief and run away. I thought how fine it would be to go far away where no one ever heard of our home, and achieve an immense fortune; and when, at last, everybody thought me dead, and father was sufficiently penitent for his cruelty, to return in a gilded chariot, with several dozen white horses, and riding up before our door in great state, inquire if Col. Smith, the father of an exiled child, lived there. The only obstacle to my fugitive project was the lack of somewhere to run to; and as no suitable place presented itself to my mind, I gave up the scheme for the present, always to be renewed, though, when aggrieved, and always to be as far from execution. I persevered, however, in my misanthropic musings till I had rendered myself thoroughly miserable, when my reverie was broken by the entrance of mother, who came and sat down on the edge of my bed. Taking my hand in her soft palm, she said:

“Tell me all about your difficulty, Johnnie. How did it occur?” Turning my face from the wet, warm pillow up to her’s, I gave a full recital of all, throwing in towards the last a few reflections on father’s harsh treatment, as it appeared to me.

“Hush! hush! Johnnie, you must not speak so. I know it seems hard to you, but it was well calculated to provoke your father. This is the fourth or fifth time you have been punished this session, and he knew it would not do to encourage you in such rebellious conduct.”

I remained silent and grum, and mother continued:

“I know boys think it very manly and brave to be insubordinate at school, and to show all the disrespect they canto the teachers; if they are reproved to reply pertly, and if they are chastised, to bear it without flinching. All these are foolishly considered marks of great spirit. But it is a very mistaken idea. Is it not wrong, culpably wrong, to obstruct and impede the labors of those who are striving to do us good? The very fact of their being compensated renders them responsible to parents and guardians for a more careful instruction of those placed under their charge, and yet you endeavor by every means to prevent the discharge of this responsibility, even though you are to receive the benefit. The teacher’s task is a difficult one any way, and you should strive to lighten the burden, by prompt and ready obedience, instead of scheming to make it heavier. Miss Hester is an old lady, and entitled to our respect from her very age; and then she is alone in the world; she has no one to look to for protection, and makes all her living by her little school. How shameful and sinful, then, to tease and trouble her! No wonder she lost her patience when she found herself locked out of her own house, compelled to stand in the street, a laughing-stock for the passers by. And see, too, another consequence of your fun, as you called it: your little playmate, Ned Cheyleigh, who had the manliness to refuse to join you, is punished equally with the guilty, and has to suffer for your fault. I like fun and innocent mischief myself, but never let it be enjoyed at the expense of another’s feelings.”

Her kind words and manner unnerved me, and the black cloud in my heart poured its rain from my eyes, as I sobbed out:

“I—didn’t—mean—to hurt—her—feelings—, and—I’ll—beg—father’s pardon—and hers—the first—thing—in—the—morning. I told—Ned—how sorry—I was—about—him—this—evening.”

“Well, I hope you will let this prove a lesson to you for the future. It’s getting late; good night.”

As she left the room I turned over on my pillow, took another hearty pull at my tears, and was then at Morpheus’ service.

CHAPTER VI.I roseearly next morning, full of good resolutions; and, to put the first in execution, found father, and asked his pardon. He granted it kindly, and said, with a smile:“I have determined to remove you to the Academy. You are getting almost too large for Miss Hester to manage. I will continue your tuition pay to her for the remainder of the session, as it is our fault that you leave her. You may remain at home to-day, as it is Friday, but on Monday you must commence with Mr. Morris.”I was perfectly delighted with the transfer, as it would add considerably to my dignity, for I had long looked forward to entering the Academy as an era in life.As soon as breakfast was over, I ran around to Miss Hester’s school house, to make my acknowledgment to her. She was very kind in her manner toward me, and did not seem to bear any ill will for my conduct of the day before. When I mentioned the subject of my removal, as I did not say anything about the continuation of the pay, the old lady seemed very much to regret my leaving, was confident we could get on pleasantly together, and felt assured that I would behave, for the rest of the term, like a little gentleman. As I was not equally certain on all these points, I told her that father thought it best, and that I must do as he wished. I therefore got up my books, slate and stationery, and marched out of the little house where I had spent so many happy hours, followed by the envious eyes of all the scholars, who were still to slave it out there. I met Ned on my wayhome, and we had a short conversation, making arrangements to desk together, and vowing eternal fealty and fidelity to each other.I put my books away as soon as I reached home, and ran over to Dr. Mayland’s to see Lulie. Much to my disappointment she had gone to school, so nothing was left for me but to mope about all day in idleness. There is nothing in the world so wearisome as idleness without company. In vain I lounged over town seeking amusement. All my companions were at school, and everybody and everything seemed to have something to do. I strolled down to the wharves to find some relief in the sights down there, but all seemed intent on some occupation, and I could find no sympathy for my solitude. The loaded dray rattled a reproof at me as it passed; the smiths tinkering over old boilers hammered work into my ears; the clerk, busy with his marking brush, and the brawny wharf hands, rolling the sticky barrels hither and thither, were living lectures to me. Even the horse, at the unloading vessel, pulled up the weight, and backed again, with a stern disregard of his own pleasure. An old black rosin raft, floating lazily down the tide, was the only thing in sight at all congenial, and that was too far out in the river to be reached.The idle boy in the country may find pleasure where there are so many objects to amuse: the brook with its fish, the toy mill with its flutter wheel, the barn yard with calves to be broken to the yoke, the orchard and plum nursery, all help to pass the time; but woe to the idle in the crowded thoroughfare!Time is the only coachman who drives exactly by his schedule, and with all my impatience Monday did not come till Monday morning. I was too eager not to be equally punctual, and at nine o’clock precisely I entered Mr. Morris’s school room. How different it was from Miss Hester’s! Boys of every size, from the six foot youth to the little ladof my own height, were ranged, two and two, at their desks about the room. Most of the small ones manifested a strong desire to stamp my appearance indelibly on their memory, by an intense stare. The larger ones scarce noticed me; perhaps turning their heads to see who had disturbed the majestic silence of the hall.Mr. Morris called me to his stand, and, after a few questions, assigned me to a class and a desk. I took my seat, arranged my books, and then, not feeling so much abashed as at Miss Hester’s, I looked about me with more confidence and closer scrutiny. ‘Twas the same school room and boys that every one has seen; the dignified big boys, turning over the leaves of their lexicons, and running their fingers through their hair in the most erudite manner, occasionally spitting in the boxes at the sides of their desks, as if half their dignity depended on their mode of expectorating; half grown boys reclining in various positions, but chiefly sitting on one foot, while the other hung down, tapping against the sides of the bench; and little chaps, some studying, some talking, but most of them resting their cheeks upon their crossed hands laid flat upon their desks, while they stared at the “new boy.”My experience at Miss Hester’s, however, had taught me to accommodate myself to circumstances, so I made myself easy in my new quarters, and at the morning respite went out boldly with the rest, to join in the amusements.The story of our difficulty at Miss Hester’s had reached most of the boys through their younger brothers, who attended her school, and quite a throng gathered around me to question and admire, for the mere fact of my having had a difficulty at all, and having left the school, rendered me at once the hero and martyr of the occasion in their eyes. I related the affair with as much gusto as I could assume, and felt as proud of my insubordination as Cato did of his economy. As I concluded my recital, one of the lexicondignitaries strode up, and, looking over the heads of those around me, remarked carelessly:“Is that the little devil who turned his teacher out? If he tries his hand here, I’ll bet Jep will take the spunk out of him.”I could not comprehend his words, but I formed a terrible idea of Jep, who was so given to the extraction of spunk, and inwardly resolved that I would carefully avoid all acquaintance with him. I afterwards learned that it was an abbreviation of Mr. Morris’s given name, Jepthah. This reassured me, and I debated for some time whether to test Jep’s extracting powers, and preserve my reputation among my schoolmates, or assert over myself at least my moral courage, and heed my mother’s words of advice in regard to my deportment. At last I resolved on the latter course of conduct, and gave up all thoughts of resisting authority.At the close of the week Mr. Morris said to the school:“Remember, boys, next is composition week, and I do not want a single one to fail to write an essay. You can select your own themes, but you must receive assistance from no one.”I was very much astonished, for the thought of writing an essay or composition had never entered my mind. To express my ideas on paper, and then read them out to the whole school! ‘Twas a task in my eyes to appall a statesman. Still, I was not one to give up easily, and, possessing no small share of self confidence, I determined to do the best I could. For days my brain was racked to find a subject on which I could say anything at all. My mind seemed a perfect blank, with not even the dim shadow of a thought which I might evolve into distinctness. After awhile I began to try over different topics, but none appeared fruitful. I tried first on Truth; but I could find no way to begin but by asking, “What is Truth?”—a question I could not answer, so I gave that up. Then I tried “Vacation;” but here my onlyopening was an abrupt recountal of its scenes and pleasures, and these were too much identified with Lulie to be made public, so I abandoned that. The various animals came in for a share of consideration, but I could not find one of sufficient fecundity to bring forth an essay. The week had almost gone, and still I was themeless; when one day, at the dinner table, father jingled the ice in his glass, and made some remark about the strangeness of the fact that water, a liquid, could so change its nature as to become solid, merely by the absence of heat. Suddenly it popped into my head that I would write about ice. I bounced up, ran into the library, and, after an hour’s hard labor, appeared with the following:ICE.Ice is frozen water. Water, dry so, is soft, and can be moved with the finger or a stick; and also can be poured out. But when it frezes it gets num and stiff, and can’t be sturd, and won’t run down. ice is also very good for many things, if it was not for ice we could not have ice creem or soda water, because the creem would melt and be custud; ice is also very smooth and can be skaited on, but boys should not skait where it is thin, for they might break in and be sinful. ai boy once skaited on the sabbath and got drownd. To look at ice ought to make us want to study, so we can learn all about it, and about the people who live where it grows thick and can be driven with dogs upon. so I will put up my writing and try to study some.Your afextionate scolar,JOHN SMITH.P. S.—A eastern king would not believe the traveller when he told him about thick ice.This postscript I added as a display of my knowledge of history, which I feared would appear pedantic in the body of the composition, but would be striking and casual at its close.This important production I folded, endorsed with my name, and laid it away till Friday evening. Before handing it in, I read it to father and mother. I construed their smiles into compliments, and carried it to Mr. Morris with no small degree of satisfaction. Addison never felt more sure of praise than I did; and yet the following week ‘twas returned to me a perfect Joseph’s coat of red ink corrections and erasures.Væ literatis!But compositions were nothing to my next appearance in the school, for we were soon required to declaim. Here again there was trouble in the selection of a suitable piece for declamation; but I at length found a piece which I thought was admirably adapted to my style, and, preparing it carefully, I awaited with impatience the first evening of our practice.It came at last, and, as I saw the “first” scholars walk up the rostrum with dignity, and with grace of manner and well modulated voice, declaim beautiful selections, I felt that nothing was easier, and in my self confidence pitied the poor blockheads, of which there were not a few present, who drawled out their speeches in such an awkward and confused way. I was considerably worried, however, as Mr. Morris came down the roll, to find that no less than three of the smaller boys had selected exactly the same piece I had; still, I gathered encouragement from the fact that they all spoke it badly, and that my effort would show to a still better advantage after theirs. I was startled from my complacent comparisons by the loud tones of Mr. Morris, calling out:“John Smith, you will next declaim!”It is strange how easily confused and startled we are by the unexpected pronunciation of our names in public; the simple utterance of mine, on this occasion, overturned all my confidence and self-reliance, and I rose from my seat with a hair-rising sensation that took away my last hope of distinction.I ascended the rostrum with that peculiarly awkward feeling of being in somebody else’s skin, which fitted badly, and was especially tight about the cheeks and eyes. And my hands! I had used them in a thousand ways, but now, for the first time, became really and painfully aware of their existence. I had hitherto regarded them as an indispensable, though unconsciously possessed, part of my anatomy; but I now looked upon them as excessively inconvenient appurtenances, and I would have given a finger almost to have had them hung out of sight on my back. However, there they were and I had to dispose of them. After making my bow with my little finger on the seam of my pants, I put both hands for safe keeping in my trowsers’ pockets. They could not, however, long remain there, for, as I placed that idiotic youth upon the “burning deck,” out they came for a gesture, which finished, to give them something to do I put them to pulling down my vest, which had an unaccountable tendency to sever all connection with my pants. The flames now had to be shown——”round him o’er the dead,”and my hands nobly left my vest for action. Coming again to me idle, I sent one to my pocket, and the other to my mouth, where it remained during the greater part of my speech, spoiling out the words as fast as they issued from that orifice.My embarrassment and confused state of ideas also developed other startling blunders, which cooler moments would have corrected. The boys, in their naturally perverted disposition, had quite a habit of transposing the first letters of words in a sentence, exchanging with one word part of another, thereby creating a language that Cardinal Mezzofanti could never have mastered. With my imitative tendencies, I had no sooner entered the school than I caught the habit in all its force; and talked in this perverted style so constantly that I was an animated Etruscan hieroglyphto all at home. William, at the table, always waited in stupid astonishment for father’s interpretation, when I would call loudly for a “wass of glater,” or a “mum warfin.”On this occasion of declamation, I fully repented of my maladialectic propensity, for, do what I would, the words would come out twisted out of all human semblance.Mr. Morris, in our private practice, required each one to announce the subject of his speech; so, troubled as I have described by my hands and tongue, I thus declaimed:Basicianco.The stoy bood on the durning beck,Whence all but flem had hid,The lims that flate the wrettle backRone shound him do’er the ead.Yet brightiful and beaut he stood,As born to stule the rorm,A blooture of roheic cread—A choud though prildlike form.Bang! went Mr. Morris’s ruler on his desk as I completed the last verse.“Bring me the book, sir,” he thundered, “that contains all that nonsense.”Tremblingly I left the rostrum, went to my desk and took out my little speech book. Having examined it, and found that Mrs. Hemans’ beautiful verses were printed correctly, he turned upon me with his severest tone, and demanded to know what I meant by such ridiculous gibberish. I pleaded that I had got in the habit of talking so for fun, and could not help it on the stage.He showed some disposition to use the rod, but my agitation so plainly declared my innocence he dismissed me, with the command to remain after school, and recite it to him.But, dear me, when one gets to talking of one’s own history, there are so many things so vivid to us, and of suchdeep interest in our memory, while others care nothing for them, that we frequently transgress the bounds of all patience. As far as the narrative coincides with the reader’s own observation and experience, he will be interested; but should it go beyond, unless adorned with a marvellous mystery, he is wearied with the author’s prolixity. As I have still a considerable portion of my life to lay before my readers, I will not weary them further with puerile details, but, begging their indulgence for one more chapter of childhood’s history, I will pass on to a later period of my existence.

I roseearly next morning, full of good resolutions; and, to put the first in execution, found father, and asked his pardon. He granted it kindly, and said, with a smile:

“I have determined to remove you to the Academy. You are getting almost too large for Miss Hester to manage. I will continue your tuition pay to her for the remainder of the session, as it is our fault that you leave her. You may remain at home to-day, as it is Friday, but on Monday you must commence with Mr. Morris.”

I was perfectly delighted with the transfer, as it would add considerably to my dignity, for I had long looked forward to entering the Academy as an era in life.

As soon as breakfast was over, I ran around to Miss Hester’s school house, to make my acknowledgment to her. She was very kind in her manner toward me, and did not seem to bear any ill will for my conduct of the day before. When I mentioned the subject of my removal, as I did not say anything about the continuation of the pay, the old lady seemed very much to regret my leaving, was confident we could get on pleasantly together, and felt assured that I would behave, for the rest of the term, like a little gentleman. As I was not equally certain on all these points, I told her that father thought it best, and that I must do as he wished. I therefore got up my books, slate and stationery, and marched out of the little house where I had spent so many happy hours, followed by the envious eyes of all the scholars, who were still to slave it out there. I met Ned on my wayhome, and we had a short conversation, making arrangements to desk together, and vowing eternal fealty and fidelity to each other.

I put my books away as soon as I reached home, and ran over to Dr. Mayland’s to see Lulie. Much to my disappointment she had gone to school, so nothing was left for me but to mope about all day in idleness. There is nothing in the world so wearisome as idleness without company. In vain I lounged over town seeking amusement. All my companions were at school, and everybody and everything seemed to have something to do. I strolled down to the wharves to find some relief in the sights down there, but all seemed intent on some occupation, and I could find no sympathy for my solitude. The loaded dray rattled a reproof at me as it passed; the smiths tinkering over old boilers hammered work into my ears; the clerk, busy with his marking brush, and the brawny wharf hands, rolling the sticky barrels hither and thither, were living lectures to me. Even the horse, at the unloading vessel, pulled up the weight, and backed again, with a stern disregard of his own pleasure. An old black rosin raft, floating lazily down the tide, was the only thing in sight at all congenial, and that was too far out in the river to be reached.

The idle boy in the country may find pleasure where there are so many objects to amuse: the brook with its fish, the toy mill with its flutter wheel, the barn yard with calves to be broken to the yoke, the orchard and plum nursery, all help to pass the time; but woe to the idle in the crowded thoroughfare!

Time is the only coachman who drives exactly by his schedule, and with all my impatience Monday did not come till Monday morning. I was too eager not to be equally punctual, and at nine o’clock precisely I entered Mr. Morris’s school room. How different it was from Miss Hester’s! Boys of every size, from the six foot youth to the little ladof my own height, were ranged, two and two, at their desks about the room. Most of the small ones manifested a strong desire to stamp my appearance indelibly on their memory, by an intense stare. The larger ones scarce noticed me; perhaps turning their heads to see who had disturbed the majestic silence of the hall.

Mr. Morris called me to his stand, and, after a few questions, assigned me to a class and a desk. I took my seat, arranged my books, and then, not feeling so much abashed as at Miss Hester’s, I looked about me with more confidence and closer scrutiny. ‘Twas the same school room and boys that every one has seen; the dignified big boys, turning over the leaves of their lexicons, and running their fingers through their hair in the most erudite manner, occasionally spitting in the boxes at the sides of their desks, as if half their dignity depended on their mode of expectorating; half grown boys reclining in various positions, but chiefly sitting on one foot, while the other hung down, tapping against the sides of the bench; and little chaps, some studying, some talking, but most of them resting their cheeks upon their crossed hands laid flat upon their desks, while they stared at the “new boy.”

My experience at Miss Hester’s, however, had taught me to accommodate myself to circumstances, so I made myself easy in my new quarters, and at the morning respite went out boldly with the rest, to join in the amusements.

The story of our difficulty at Miss Hester’s had reached most of the boys through their younger brothers, who attended her school, and quite a throng gathered around me to question and admire, for the mere fact of my having had a difficulty at all, and having left the school, rendered me at once the hero and martyr of the occasion in their eyes. I related the affair with as much gusto as I could assume, and felt as proud of my insubordination as Cato did of his economy. As I concluded my recital, one of the lexicondignitaries strode up, and, looking over the heads of those around me, remarked carelessly:

“Is that the little devil who turned his teacher out? If he tries his hand here, I’ll bet Jep will take the spunk out of him.”

I could not comprehend his words, but I formed a terrible idea of Jep, who was so given to the extraction of spunk, and inwardly resolved that I would carefully avoid all acquaintance with him. I afterwards learned that it was an abbreviation of Mr. Morris’s given name, Jepthah. This reassured me, and I debated for some time whether to test Jep’s extracting powers, and preserve my reputation among my schoolmates, or assert over myself at least my moral courage, and heed my mother’s words of advice in regard to my deportment. At last I resolved on the latter course of conduct, and gave up all thoughts of resisting authority.

At the close of the week Mr. Morris said to the school:

“Remember, boys, next is composition week, and I do not want a single one to fail to write an essay. You can select your own themes, but you must receive assistance from no one.”

I was very much astonished, for the thought of writing an essay or composition had never entered my mind. To express my ideas on paper, and then read them out to the whole school! ‘Twas a task in my eyes to appall a statesman. Still, I was not one to give up easily, and, possessing no small share of self confidence, I determined to do the best I could. For days my brain was racked to find a subject on which I could say anything at all. My mind seemed a perfect blank, with not even the dim shadow of a thought which I might evolve into distinctness. After awhile I began to try over different topics, but none appeared fruitful. I tried first on Truth; but I could find no way to begin but by asking, “What is Truth?”—a question I could not answer, so I gave that up. Then I tried “Vacation;” but here my onlyopening was an abrupt recountal of its scenes and pleasures, and these were too much identified with Lulie to be made public, so I abandoned that. The various animals came in for a share of consideration, but I could not find one of sufficient fecundity to bring forth an essay. The week had almost gone, and still I was themeless; when one day, at the dinner table, father jingled the ice in his glass, and made some remark about the strangeness of the fact that water, a liquid, could so change its nature as to become solid, merely by the absence of heat. Suddenly it popped into my head that I would write about ice. I bounced up, ran into the library, and, after an hour’s hard labor, appeared with the following:

ICE.Ice is frozen water. Water, dry so, is soft, and can be moved with the finger or a stick; and also can be poured out. But when it frezes it gets num and stiff, and can’t be sturd, and won’t run down. ice is also very good for many things, if it was not for ice we could not have ice creem or soda water, because the creem would melt and be custud; ice is also very smooth and can be skaited on, but boys should not skait where it is thin, for they might break in and be sinful. ai boy once skaited on the sabbath and got drownd. To look at ice ought to make us want to study, so we can learn all about it, and about the people who live where it grows thick and can be driven with dogs upon. so I will put up my writing and try to study some.Your afextionate scolar,JOHN SMITH.P. S.—A eastern king would not believe the traveller when he told him about thick ice.

ICE.

Ice is frozen water. Water, dry so, is soft, and can be moved with the finger or a stick; and also can be poured out. But when it frezes it gets num and stiff, and can’t be sturd, and won’t run down. ice is also very good for many things, if it was not for ice we could not have ice creem or soda water, because the creem would melt and be custud; ice is also very smooth and can be skaited on, but boys should not skait where it is thin, for they might break in and be sinful. ai boy once skaited on the sabbath and got drownd. To look at ice ought to make us want to study, so we can learn all about it, and about the people who live where it grows thick and can be driven with dogs upon. so I will put up my writing and try to study some.

Your afextionate scolar,

JOHN SMITH.

P. S.—A eastern king would not believe the traveller when he told him about thick ice.

This postscript I added as a display of my knowledge of history, which I feared would appear pedantic in the body of the composition, but would be striking and casual at its close.

This important production I folded, endorsed with my name, and laid it away till Friday evening. Before handing it in, I read it to father and mother. I construed their smiles into compliments, and carried it to Mr. Morris with no small degree of satisfaction. Addison never felt more sure of praise than I did; and yet the following week ‘twas returned to me a perfect Joseph’s coat of red ink corrections and erasures.Væ literatis!

But compositions were nothing to my next appearance in the school, for we were soon required to declaim. Here again there was trouble in the selection of a suitable piece for declamation; but I at length found a piece which I thought was admirably adapted to my style, and, preparing it carefully, I awaited with impatience the first evening of our practice.

It came at last, and, as I saw the “first” scholars walk up the rostrum with dignity, and with grace of manner and well modulated voice, declaim beautiful selections, I felt that nothing was easier, and in my self confidence pitied the poor blockheads, of which there were not a few present, who drawled out their speeches in such an awkward and confused way. I was considerably worried, however, as Mr. Morris came down the roll, to find that no less than three of the smaller boys had selected exactly the same piece I had; still, I gathered encouragement from the fact that they all spoke it badly, and that my effort would show to a still better advantage after theirs. I was startled from my complacent comparisons by the loud tones of Mr. Morris, calling out:

“John Smith, you will next declaim!”

It is strange how easily confused and startled we are by the unexpected pronunciation of our names in public; the simple utterance of mine, on this occasion, overturned all my confidence and self-reliance, and I rose from my seat with a hair-rising sensation that took away my last hope of distinction.

I ascended the rostrum with that peculiarly awkward feeling of being in somebody else’s skin, which fitted badly, and was especially tight about the cheeks and eyes. And my hands! I had used them in a thousand ways, but now, for the first time, became really and painfully aware of their existence. I had hitherto regarded them as an indispensable, though unconsciously possessed, part of my anatomy; but I now looked upon them as excessively inconvenient appurtenances, and I would have given a finger almost to have had them hung out of sight on my back. However, there they were and I had to dispose of them. After making my bow with my little finger on the seam of my pants, I put both hands for safe keeping in my trowsers’ pockets. They could not, however, long remain there, for, as I placed that idiotic youth upon the “burning deck,” out they came for a gesture, which finished, to give them something to do I put them to pulling down my vest, which had an unaccountable tendency to sever all connection with my pants. The flames now had to be shown

——”round him o’er the dead,”

and my hands nobly left my vest for action. Coming again to me idle, I sent one to my pocket, and the other to my mouth, where it remained during the greater part of my speech, spoiling out the words as fast as they issued from that orifice.

My embarrassment and confused state of ideas also developed other startling blunders, which cooler moments would have corrected. The boys, in their naturally perverted disposition, had quite a habit of transposing the first letters of words in a sentence, exchanging with one word part of another, thereby creating a language that Cardinal Mezzofanti could never have mastered. With my imitative tendencies, I had no sooner entered the school than I caught the habit in all its force; and talked in this perverted style so constantly that I was an animated Etruscan hieroglyphto all at home. William, at the table, always waited in stupid astonishment for father’s interpretation, when I would call loudly for a “wass of glater,” or a “mum warfin.”

On this occasion of declamation, I fully repented of my maladialectic propensity, for, do what I would, the words would come out twisted out of all human semblance.

Mr. Morris, in our private practice, required each one to announce the subject of his speech; so, troubled as I have described by my hands and tongue, I thus declaimed:

Basicianco.

The stoy bood on the durning beck,Whence all but flem had hid,The lims that flate the wrettle backRone shound him do’er the ead.

Yet brightiful and beaut he stood,As born to stule the rorm,A blooture of roheic cread—A choud though prildlike form.

Bang! went Mr. Morris’s ruler on his desk as I completed the last verse.

“Bring me the book, sir,” he thundered, “that contains all that nonsense.”

Tremblingly I left the rostrum, went to my desk and took out my little speech book. Having examined it, and found that Mrs. Hemans’ beautiful verses were printed correctly, he turned upon me with his severest tone, and demanded to know what I meant by such ridiculous gibberish. I pleaded that I had got in the habit of talking so for fun, and could not help it on the stage.

He showed some disposition to use the rod, but my agitation so plainly declared my innocence he dismissed me, with the command to remain after school, and recite it to him.

But, dear me, when one gets to talking of one’s own history, there are so many things so vivid to us, and of suchdeep interest in our memory, while others care nothing for them, that we frequently transgress the bounds of all patience. As far as the narrative coincides with the reader’s own observation and experience, he will be interested; but should it go beyond, unless adorned with a marvellous mystery, he is wearied with the author’s prolixity. As I have still a considerable portion of my life to lay before my readers, I will not weary them further with puerile details, but, begging their indulgence for one more chapter of childhood’s history, I will pass on to a later period of my existence.

CHAPTER VII.Atthe close of the second session it was proposed that we give a party. We held a meeting in the Academy, and elected a Committee of Management. These important and business transacting gentlemen soon came around with their subscription lists. As I was one of the small boys I had to subscribe only a dollar, but I felt as munificent as Mithridates, when I wrote “John Smith,” and, parallel with it, placed a small crooked “1” and two very fat ciphers, yoked together like the sign of the spectacles over a jeweller’s store. At dinner that day I obtained the amount from father, and mother pinned it in my jacket pocket for safety. When I returned in the afternoon I took out the pin before I reached the Academy and crumpled the bill in my pocket, to give it a careless look. When I handed it to the collector he expressed no gratitude, and evinced no feeling whatever on the subject, merely checking off my name with his pencil, and placing my dollar, in the coolest manner possible, with the other funds of the enterprise. But I was repaid, however, for such indifferent treatment, when thegilt embossed tickets came out, and I received my two. I carried one home, and put it in our card basket as a standing evidence of my interest in the party, and sent the other to Lulie, with my compliments written in ink of the bluest hue.Of course those who would not subscribe were regarded with great contempt by all who did, and epithets expressive of avarice and miserly meanness were heaped with unsparing liberality upon them. In some cases these were deserved, but there were many very poor boys in school, and I often blushed to hear their poverty ridiculed and themselves made the subjects of unfeeling jest. I recall one little scene.I was standing near, perhaps, the poorest boy in school, when one of the managers, a proud, stuck-up youth, approached, and said to him:“I say, Willie, you’ll give us something for the party, won’t you?”I noticed a slight quiver on Willie’s lip as he replied:“I have only twenty-five cents at home, and mother is not able to give me any more, but you are welcome to that, if you will have it.”“We don’t want any of your quarters. A dollar is the smallest contribution we take. But let me tell you, if you don’t subscribe you must not go to the party, and hang around to fill your pockets.”“You need not fear that I will come,” said the little fellow, as he drew his hat over his face and turned away, not however, before I had seen something glistening fall from his cheek, and make a tiny, wet circle in the sand.This digression, with the hope that some school boy who may read this book, may be led to reflect (which is rare) that others, besides himself, have feelings that may be hurt.The eventful evening of the eventful day at length arrived, and I went up to my room to make my extensive toilet. My clothes were spread out on the bed ready formy donning, and I stopped to contemplate their striking effect. My white pants gleamed beside a new blue jacket, with as bright buttons as Frank Paning ever dared to wear, and a snowy collar, already folded down, lay beside a handsome silk bow. I had given orders that my pants should be starched very stiff, with very deep creases down the legs. These instructions I found faithfully fulfilled, for they were so stuck together it was with great difficulty I could open the legs sufficiently to admit my own, and when they were at last on, I found that our laundress had ironed the creases down the sides instead of on the front of the legs, and the wide, hard linen stood out on each side of my feet like great paddles, and tapped, one against the other, with a noise that would have attracted attention in a mill. To add to my discouragement about the pants, my shoes, which I had ordered to be shined up for this extra occasion, came up to my room with one string gone; and as it could not be found, and it was too late to go out to purchase another, I had to borrow a light colored one with brass tips from mother, and trust to luck to hide my feet. As I had not reached the age of ability to fasten my own collar, I called in Aunt Hannah, who was passing my door. The old lady, being a little dim of vision, pinned my collar and bow just far enough to one side to give my head the appearance of being set on crooked; but as I was not extremely fastidious, and was moreover in great haste, I thought it would do by slightly turning my head, so as to keep my chin just over the bow. Putting on my jacket, and seeing its perfect fit, restored my equanimity, but I lost it fearfully again when I came to brush my hair.The Lacedæmonians used always to comb their hair before entering battle, and if their crinal adjustment caused them a tithe the irritation mine did me, we may cease to wonder at their reckless courage and desperate conduct.My locks yielded to the combined influence of comb,brush, water, and oil, and smoothly fell, except in one particular place—that perverse spot in the crown of the head, where the hair seems to have grown in a whirlwind. Here it would not “down,” but remained a capillary Banquo, in obstinate uprightness. After repeated proofs of its invincible stubbornness I was forced to leave it proudly erect, like the republic of Ragusa, among crouching kingdoms. Having completed my Beau-Brummellization, and received father’s injunction not to stay late, I hurried to the assembly rooms.The managers had engaged two halls; one for the grown people, with music stand and waxed floor, and a large empty room, with a few benches round the wall, for the little folks and their games. Thither I bent my course, and entered. Just inside the door I found a throng of the inevitable party jackals, who always frequent public entertainments. They hang round the doors, and stand in corners till supper is announced, when, the moment the ladies leave the table, they rush in upon the spoils. They number among them many who claim eminent respectability, yet who, being too bashful to mingle with the ladies, are of course too bashful to behave well. As I squeezed my way through this motley throng, many were the taunts I heard levelled at my unfortunate person, all of which I treated with silent contempt; but as I entered the hall fairly I heard a hoarse whisper behind me:“He’s getting skeered on the top of his head, look how his hair has riz.”I wilted under this last remark, and involuntarily smoothed my hand over the Ragusan hairs, to the great delight and boisterous merriment of the jackals.As soon as I had time to look about me, I saw Ned Cheyleigh, Frank Paning, and Lulie Mayland, over in a corner, with several other boys and girls of my acquaintance. Ned motioned to me to join them, and, much relieved, I hastened across the room.There were two benches arranged so that their occupants were placedvis à vis, and on one of these sat the boys, with their hats on their knees, and their arms resting on each others’ shoulders. The girls occupied the other, and were much more at their ease, though there was very little attempt at conversation, as the moment anybody spoke everybody else looked straight at them, and listened. This state of affairs proving very dry and uninteresting, it was proposed that we play some games. The proposal came from Frank, and Lulie was the first to accede to it. This circumstance, trivial as it was, tended greatly to diminish my interest in the proceedings. Frank and I had never had much dealing with each other since the affair at Miss Hester’s, though that was not so much the cause as the fact that we were rivals for Lulie’s heart. The little flirt always made me believe, when I was alone with her, that I was decidedly her preference, but somehow when we were both thrown into her presence, Frank always received the lion’s share of her smiles, remarks and attention. My good temper for the evening was nearly spoiled on this occasion when Frank proposed “Club Fist,” and laid his doubled-up hand in Lulie’s lap, she placing her’s immediately on it, followed by the hands of all the throng, till there was quite a Timour’s tower of human bones. To think of her hand being pressed by every other hand down on his, was almost too much for a lover to bear, but I swallowed my resentment as best I could, and joined my own hand to the tower.The very startling query, “What have you got there?” and the immediate abduction of the dimpled hand of a girl, or the chubby fist of a boy from the pile, were all gone through with, till the bottom hand was reached. The chain of destruction from the cat who so feloniously appropriated “my share,” to the knife hid behind the old church door, was carefully ascended, and the solemn sentence pronounced:“A for apple, P for pear, the first one who laughs or speaks shall receive three hard slaps and pinches.” All were as silent as Pythagorean novitiates, though many were the contortions to restrain laughter, till after a few moments Lulie’s merry laugh was heard.She pleaded that she could not help it; that Frank made such a funny face at her that she was compelled to laugh. She was, however, convicted, and we commenced to punish her. When it came Frank’s turn to pinch her, he did so so severely that she gave a little scream of pain, and declared she would pay him for it presently. When she presented her arm to me I felt that all the gallantry of my soul forbade cruelty to her, and I scarcely touched the soft flesh. My consideration did not seem to be very highly appreciated, for she turned off without a word, and commenced the payment of her debt to Frank. A very torturing and envy-causing game they made of it for me, as I looked frowningly on, wishing most earnestly that she was in my debt, and would pay it as thoroughly.Club Fist was now voted dull, and blindman’s buff proposed. Frank volunteered to be blindfolded, and the game soon became a merry one. Peals of laughter, as all ran helter skelter to avoid him, whispers of stealth as they crept about behind him, and screams of excitement as they just eluded his grasp, added pleasant confusion to the merriment. Frank took good care to arrange the handkerchief so that he could see, though he stumbled about enough to avoid suspicion. He pretended to single out Lulie by her laugh, and soon made her his captive. Then Lulie was blinded, and after a long chase caught one of the girls, who in her turn caught Ned. Frank this time contrived to stumble against Ned, and of course, being caught, wore the handkerchief again. Poor artless I played with all my might, and dodged and tacked with as much earnestness as Acteon did his own dogs. After the bandage had been exchangedmany times I was caught by some one, but just as I was preparing to become as blind as Melctal, Frank said we had had enough of the game, and all agreed to quit. We amused ourselves in various ways for an hour or so longer, Frank making an almost entire monopoly of Lulie, while I hung around with dogged expectancy of a chance after a while. After another hour’s interval supper was announced, and each of the boys took his engagée to the supper hall. I went sullenly alone. The room was densely crowded, and the clatter of plates and dishes, the jingle of glasses, the hum of voices, the popping of corks and cracker bon bons, and the general noise of the bustle to and fro, confused and deafened me. The grown people from the other hall were there, and boys and girls, beaux and belles of whiskers and satins, all mingled in an incongruous and grotesque mass. Squeezing my way down the table I found myself opposite to Frank and Lulie, and, as I saw him engaging her in conversation, or piling up her plate with delicacies, overwhelming her with constant and tender attentions, which were received as tenderly by her, jealousy deprived me of all appetite, and I strove to divert my attention by observing those around me. As I glanced down the long tables, a double vista of snowy necks and arms, white waistcoats, flashing jewels, sparkling fans, with an occasional raising here and there of a white glove, or a cobweb handkerchief, appeared as if on dress parade, ranged in open order for the table to march through. Here a vivacious beauty raised a dainty bit on her fork, and poising it at her mouth as she finished a remark, looked as if the fork were a doctor, and she had sore throat; there a languid youth dipped his downy attempt at a moustache in a glass of wine, and a little farther on a courting couple, without originality, seemed actually interested in the verses on the candies. But however engaged, at what stage soever of the supper they arrived, everybody seemed to be of some interest to somebodyelse, except myself. I was emphatically alone. I was getting desperate, and turned to leave the table, when I glanced at Lulie, and saw that Frank had left her side temporarily. As she caught my eye, she said, with her sweetest smile:“John, won’t you please get me some frozen cream, this on the stand has all melted; Frank has gone now to see if he can find a waiter who knows anything about the table. The confusion is quite confusing;” and she coughed with an affected air behind her fan, as if her last sentence had been quite an effort.Glad to be of any service to anybody, I bowed, and, taking her proffered plate, dived into the throng, to make my way to the freezers. Now nearly run over by a hastening waiter, now in the way of a retiring couple, often spilling little streams of the melted cream over the black cloth of a gentleman, or the pearly silk of a lady, and, before I could recover from their indignant glance or muttered objurgations, having it tilted into my own bosom by some passers, I at length reached the stand on which was placed the freezing apparatus. Here I had to wait till all patience was exhausted before I could get what I wished, but, stubbornly determined, I stood my ground, and at length received my plate, heaped up as if for a glutton. To return with a running-over plate was indeed more perilous than my journey thither. I was threading my way carefully along, and had proceeded half way down the room, when I met Frank and Lulie leaving.“Oh! you found it after all,” she said, as she saw me approaching, carrying the dripping plate out at arm’s length, as if it were a hot kettle, “I am very much obliged for the trouble you have taken, but Frank brought me some a short time after you left.”I was too much chagrined to reply, but giving Frank a dagger look as they passed out, I threw the plate down onthe nearest table, and left the room. I resolved, as soon as I could get an interview with Lulie, to load her with reproaches, and bid her farewell forever. But on going back to the party room I saw Lulie sitting by herself, Frank having left her for awhile. I determined to go immediately to her and have my talk out with her, but felt like modifying very much the bitterness of its spirit. What we say in a person’s presence is very much less than what we think we will say before we see them.I went over and took a seat by Lulie, and for the first time in the evening felt a little gleam of pleasure in my heart. She received me kindly, and made some trifling remark about my being out of spirits, but I did not heed her. Coming, like a boy, bluntly to the point, I asked:“Lulie, do you like Frank Paning? I do not, he tries to be so smart.”“Why, yes,” she said, coloring a little, and biting the tip of her fan, “I do like him some; surely you don’t dislike him for being smart.”“I don’t mean smart that way; but there’s another bigger reason than that: he is always with you when I want to be.”“Well, that’s your fault,” she replied, looking at me archly. “I am sure if he comes to me first you can’t expect me to drive him away for you, can you?”“But he’s been with you all to-night, and I have not had a chance to even talk with you a minute. I wanted to carry you to the supper, but of course he was ahead of me.”“You ought to have asked me before he did.”“Even if I had you would have preferred going with him, wouldn’t you?”“Oh! I must not say, it might flatter you.”“I wish,” I muttered savagely, “he was back in South Carolina, or wherever he came from.”“I certainly do not,” she said, with some warmth; “I thought you and Frank were great friends.”“We were at first, but ever since he lied to Miss Hester, I have not had any use for him.”“I was angry with him myself that day,” she said, after a little pause, and with a slight change in her tone, “but he has made it all right since. He says he did not see any reason why he should take a whipping when he could get out of it without telling a lie. I cried real hard, though, that day about you and Ned.”“I don’t expect you cried much for me; ‘twas all for Ned.”This I said as a feeler, and I watched closely, as well as vainly, to discover some sign of emotion in her reply.“No, indeed,” she said, looking straight at me, without any drooping of the timorous eyelids, as I had expected; “I felt as if I could take half your blows.”“I would have them doubled to hear you say so,” I replied, with great warmth and an attempt at a theatrical pressure of my heart, which, however, failed in its effect, from my ignorance of the exact location of that vital organ.The conversation was now beginning to assume for me a most agreeable turn, and I was beginning to feel recompensed for all my chagrin of the evening, when, to my unspeakable horror I saw William, our servant, coming across the room with my cloak in his hand.“Marse John, your father says it is time for you to come home. Here is your cloak mistis sent.”The reversion of feeling was too strong for utterance, and with a choked voice and swimming eyes I rose, and, without a word of parting to Lulie, went out with William. Just as I reached the outer door I met Frank coming in. He bowed with mock reverence, and said, with a sneer:“Good night, little baby; go to your cradle.”“I’ll whip you to-morrow!” was all I could grind out between my clenched teeth, while he ran, laughing, into the hall. As I groped my way down the steps, my eyes all blinded with tears, I heard some one say:“Here come the band! they are going to play for the children.”This was the last feather on the camel’s back of my fortitude, and I broke down into sobbing.To have Lulie think I was babyish, and had to be sent for; to have our conversation broken off so suddenly, when it was becoming so pleasant; to leave a scene of gaiety before it was finished, and then, too, when the best part was coming, and, above all, to have my hated rival triumph in my humiliation, was enough to have crushed a stouter heart than mine.When we reached the corner, round which we turned into our street, William stopped, and said:“There! listen at the music!”I wiped away the tears from my eyes, and looked back at the building. ‘Twas brightly illuminated, and indistinct forms could be seen passing to and fro at the windows. A quick, lively air from the band came floating to my ears, and I knew Frank was by Lulie’s side.“Oh, William,” I sobbed, “I—do—want—to—go back—so bad.”“I think it was a pity marster sent for you so soon,” he said, “but you are done and away now, and we’d better go on home.”Wretched, indeed, I ascended the steps at home, and was met at the door by father.“Well, Johnnie,” he said, locking the door after I had gotten in, “this is right late for a little boy to be up, isn’t it? What! crying! What is the matter?”“Father—, I did—hate to—leave—so much—. The—band was coming—to play—for us—and I was just—beginning to—see some—fun.”“I am sorry I broke you up,” he said, kindly, “but it is very late, and much for the best that you should be at home. Good night; run up to bed.”I went up to my room, and tumbled on the bed with my clothes on. My mind was full of bitter, burning thoughts. I fancied I could still hear the band, and whenever I closed my eyes Lulie’s form, with Frank hovering near, rose to my vision.Next morning I rose with a headache, and for relief walked out. My steps involuntarily led me to the scene of my chagrin, and in a sad kind of reverie I wandered through the rooms.‘Tis sad food for reflection to visit a ball room the morning after the ball. Dreary silence has taken the place of noisy mirth and revelry, and the walls and floor look wan in the yellow sunlight, as if suffering from their night’s dissipation. The chandeliers quiver their pendent prisms at your approach, and tinkle a drowsy salutation. Around the music stand are scattered a leaf or two of music, fragments of rosin, and half sucked lemons; along the floor we pick up a fallen wreath, a slipper’s rosette, or a torn fragment of tarlatan. These are all that remind us of the whirling throng that mingled here.‘Tis very much like life! We thoughtlessly dance upon its arena, and departing leave behind us, some at least, the evergreen wreath, some the tarnished rosette of pleasures tried and found empty, and some the poor torn shred of fruitless ambition.

Atthe close of the second session it was proposed that we give a party. We held a meeting in the Academy, and elected a Committee of Management. These important and business transacting gentlemen soon came around with their subscription lists. As I was one of the small boys I had to subscribe only a dollar, but I felt as munificent as Mithridates, when I wrote “John Smith,” and, parallel with it, placed a small crooked “1” and two very fat ciphers, yoked together like the sign of the spectacles over a jeweller’s store. At dinner that day I obtained the amount from father, and mother pinned it in my jacket pocket for safety. When I returned in the afternoon I took out the pin before I reached the Academy and crumpled the bill in my pocket, to give it a careless look. When I handed it to the collector he expressed no gratitude, and evinced no feeling whatever on the subject, merely checking off my name with his pencil, and placing my dollar, in the coolest manner possible, with the other funds of the enterprise. But I was repaid, however, for such indifferent treatment, when thegilt embossed tickets came out, and I received my two. I carried one home, and put it in our card basket as a standing evidence of my interest in the party, and sent the other to Lulie, with my compliments written in ink of the bluest hue.

Of course those who would not subscribe were regarded with great contempt by all who did, and epithets expressive of avarice and miserly meanness were heaped with unsparing liberality upon them. In some cases these were deserved, but there were many very poor boys in school, and I often blushed to hear their poverty ridiculed and themselves made the subjects of unfeeling jest. I recall one little scene.

I was standing near, perhaps, the poorest boy in school, when one of the managers, a proud, stuck-up youth, approached, and said to him:

“I say, Willie, you’ll give us something for the party, won’t you?”

I noticed a slight quiver on Willie’s lip as he replied:

“I have only twenty-five cents at home, and mother is not able to give me any more, but you are welcome to that, if you will have it.”

“We don’t want any of your quarters. A dollar is the smallest contribution we take. But let me tell you, if you don’t subscribe you must not go to the party, and hang around to fill your pockets.”

“You need not fear that I will come,” said the little fellow, as he drew his hat over his face and turned away, not however, before I had seen something glistening fall from his cheek, and make a tiny, wet circle in the sand.

This digression, with the hope that some school boy who may read this book, may be led to reflect (which is rare) that others, besides himself, have feelings that may be hurt.

The eventful evening of the eventful day at length arrived, and I went up to my room to make my extensive toilet. My clothes were spread out on the bed ready formy donning, and I stopped to contemplate their striking effect. My white pants gleamed beside a new blue jacket, with as bright buttons as Frank Paning ever dared to wear, and a snowy collar, already folded down, lay beside a handsome silk bow. I had given orders that my pants should be starched very stiff, with very deep creases down the legs. These instructions I found faithfully fulfilled, for they were so stuck together it was with great difficulty I could open the legs sufficiently to admit my own, and when they were at last on, I found that our laundress had ironed the creases down the sides instead of on the front of the legs, and the wide, hard linen stood out on each side of my feet like great paddles, and tapped, one against the other, with a noise that would have attracted attention in a mill. To add to my discouragement about the pants, my shoes, which I had ordered to be shined up for this extra occasion, came up to my room with one string gone; and as it could not be found, and it was too late to go out to purchase another, I had to borrow a light colored one with brass tips from mother, and trust to luck to hide my feet. As I had not reached the age of ability to fasten my own collar, I called in Aunt Hannah, who was passing my door. The old lady, being a little dim of vision, pinned my collar and bow just far enough to one side to give my head the appearance of being set on crooked; but as I was not extremely fastidious, and was moreover in great haste, I thought it would do by slightly turning my head, so as to keep my chin just over the bow. Putting on my jacket, and seeing its perfect fit, restored my equanimity, but I lost it fearfully again when I came to brush my hair.

The Lacedæmonians used always to comb their hair before entering battle, and if their crinal adjustment caused them a tithe the irritation mine did me, we may cease to wonder at their reckless courage and desperate conduct.

My locks yielded to the combined influence of comb,brush, water, and oil, and smoothly fell, except in one particular place—that perverse spot in the crown of the head, where the hair seems to have grown in a whirlwind. Here it would not “down,” but remained a capillary Banquo, in obstinate uprightness. After repeated proofs of its invincible stubbornness I was forced to leave it proudly erect, like the republic of Ragusa, among crouching kingdoms. Having completed my Beau-Brummellization, and received father’s injunction not to stay late, I hurried to the assembly rooms.

The managers had engaged two halls; one for the grown people, with music stand and waxed floor, and a large empty room, with a few benches round the wall, for the little folks and their games. Thither I bent my course, and entered. Just inside the door I found a throng of the inevitable party jackals, who always frequent public entertainments. They hang round the doors, and stand in corners till supper is announced, when, the moment the ladies leave the table, they rush in upon the spoils. They number among them many who claim eminent respectability, yet who, being too bashful to mingle with the ladies, are of course too bashful to behave well. As I squeezed my way through this motley throng, many were the taunts I heard levelled at my unfortunate person, all of which I treated with silent contempt; but as I entered the hall fairly I heard a hoarse whisper behind me:

“He’s getting skeered on the top of his head, look how his hair has riz.”

I wilted under this last remark, and involuntarily smoothed my hand over the Ragusan hairs, to the great delight and boisterous merriment of the jackals.

As soon as I had time to look about me, I saw Ned Cheyleigh, Frank Paning, and Lulie Mayland, over in a corner, with several other boys and girls of my acquaintance. Ned motioned to me to join them, and, much relieved, I hastened across the room.

There were two benches arranged so that their occupants were placedvis à vis, and on one of these sat the boys, with their hats on their knees, and their arms resting on each others’ shoulders. The girls occupied the other, and were much more at their ease, though there was very little attempt at conversation, as the moment anybody spoke everybody else looked straight at them, and listened. This state of affairs proving very dry and uninteresting, it was proposed that we play some games. The proposal came from Frank, and Lulie was the first to accede to it. This circumstance, trivial as it was, tended greatly to diminish my interest in the proceedings. Frank and I had never had much dealing with each other since the affair at Miss Hester’s, though that was not so much the cause as the fact that we were rivals for Lulie’s heart. The little flirt always made me believe, when I was alone with her, that I was decidedly her preference, but somehow when we were both thrown into her presence, Frank always received the lion’s share of her smiles, remarks and attention. My good temper for the evening was nearly spoiled on this occasion when Frank proposed “Club Fist,” and laid his doubled-up hand in Lulie’s lap, she placing her’s immediately on it, followed by the hands of all the throng, till there was quite a Timour’s tower of human bones. To think of her hand being pressed by every other hand down on his, was almost too much for a lover to bear, but I swallowed my resentment as best I could, and joined my own hand to the tower.

The very startling query, “What have you got there?” and the immediate abduction of the dimpled hand of a girl, or the chubby fist of a boy from the pile, were all gone through with, till the bottom hand was reached. The chain of destruction from the cat who so feloniously appropriated “my share,” to the knife hid behind the old church door, was carefully ascended, and the solemn sentence pronounced:

“A for apple, P for pear, the first one who laughs or speaks shall receive three hard slaps and pinches.” All were as silent as Pythagorean novitiates, though many were the contortions to restrain laughter, till after a few moments Lulie’s merry laugh was heard.

She pleaded that she could not help it; that Frank made such a funny face at her that she was compelled to laugh. She was, however, convicted, and we commenced to punish her. When it came Frank’s turn to pinch her, he did so so severely that she gave a little scream of pain, and declared she would pay him for it presently. When she presented her arm to me I felt that all the gallantry of my soul forbade cruelty to her, and I scarcely touched the soft flesh. My consideration did not seem to be very highly appreciated, for she turned off without a word, and commenced the payment of her debt to Frank. A very torturing and envy-causing game they made of it for me, as I looked frowningly on, wishing most earnestly that she was in my debt, and would pay it as thoroughly.

Club Fist was now voted dull, and blindman’s buff proposed. Frank volunteered to be blindfolded, and the game soon became a merry one. Peals of laughter, as all ran helter skelter to avoid him, whispers of stealth as they crept about behind him, and screams of excitement as they just eluded his grasp, added pleasant confusion to the merriment. Frank took good care to arrange the handkerchief so that he could see, though he stumbled about enough to avoid suspicion. He pretended to single out Lulie by her laugh, and soon made her his captive. Then Lulie was blinded, and after a long chase caught one of the girls, who in her turn caught Ned. Frank this time contrived to stumble against Ned, and of course, being caught, wore the handkerchief again. Poor artless I played with all my might, and dodged and tacked with as much earnestness as Acteon did his own dogs. After the bandage had been exchangedmany times I was caught by some one, but just as I was preparing to become as blind as Melctal, Frank said we had had enough of the game, and all agreed to quit. We amused ourselves in various ways for an hour or so longer, Frank making an almost entire monopoly of Lulie, while I hung around with dogged expectancy of a chance after a while. After another hour’s interval supper was announced, and each of the boys took his engagée to the supper hall. I went sullenly alone. The room was densely crowded, and the clatter of plates and dishes, the jingle of glasses, the hum of voices, the popping of corks and cracker bon bons, and the general noise of the bustle to and fro, confused and deafened me. The grown people from the other hall were there, and boys and girls, beaux and belles of whiskers and satins, all mingled in an incongruous and grotesque mass. Squeezing my way down the table I found myself opposite to Frank and Lulie, and, as I saw him engaging her in conversation, or piling up her plate with delicacies, overwhelming her with constant and tender attentions, which were received as tenderly by her, jealousy deprived me of all appetite, and I strove to divert my attention by observing those around me. As I glanced down the long tables, a double vista of snowy necks and arms, white waistcoats, flashing jewels, sparkling fans, with an occasional raising here and there of a white glove, or a cobweb handkerchief, appeared as if on dress parade, ranged in open order for the table to march through. Here a vivacious beauty raised a dainty bit on her fork, and poising it at her mouth as she finished a remark, looked as if the fork were a doctor, and she had sore throat; there a languid youth dipped his downy attempt at a moustache in a glass of wine, and a little farther on a courting couple, without originality, seemed actually interested in the verses on the candies. But however engaged, at what stage soever of the supper they arrived, everybody seemed to be of some interest to somebodyelse, except myself. I was emphatically alone. I was getting desperate, and turned to leave the table, when I glanced at Lulie, and saw that Frank had left her side temporarily. As she caught my eye, she said, with her sweetest smile:

“John, won’t you please get me some frozen cream, this on the stand has all melted; Frank has gone now to see if he can find a waiter who knows anything about the table. The confusion is quite confusing;” and she coughed with an affected air behind her fan, as if her last sentence had been quite an effort.

Glad to be of any service to anybody, I bowed, and, taking her proffered plate, dived into the throng, to make my way to the freezers. Now nearly run over by a hastening waiter, now in the way of a retiring couple, often spilling little streams of the melted cream over the black cloth of a gentleman, or the pearly silk of a lady, and, before I could recover from their indignant glance or muttered objurgations, having it tilted into my own bosom by some passers, I at length reached the stand on which was placed the freezing apparatus. Here I had to wait till all patience was exhausted before I could get what I wished, but, stubbornly determined, I stood my ground, and at length received my plate, heaped up as if for a glutton. To return with a running-over plate was indeed more perilous than my journey thither. I was threading my way carefully along, and had proceeded half way down the room, when I met Frank and Lulie leaving.

“Oh! you found it after all,” she said, as she saw me approaching, carrying the dripping plate out at arm’s length, as if it were a hot kettle, “I am very much obliged for the trouble you have taken, but Frank brought me some a short time after you left.”

I was too much chagrined to reply, but giving Frank a dagger look as they passed out, I threw the plate down onthe nearest table, and left the room. I resolved, as soon as I could get an interview with Lulie, to load her with reproaches, and bid her farewell forever. But on going back to the party room I saw Lulie sitting by herself, Frank having left her for awhile. I determined to go immediately to her and have my talk out with her, but felt like modifying very much the bitterness of its spirit. What we say in a person’s presence is very much less than what we think we will say before we see them.

I went over and took a seat by Lulie, and for the first time in the evening felt a little gleam of pleasure in my heart. She received me kindly, and made some trifling remark about my being out of spirits, but I did not heed her. Coming, like a boy, bluntly to the point, I asked:

“Lulie, do you like Frank Paning? I do not, he tries to be so smart.”

“Why, yes,” she said, coloring a little, and biting the tip of her fan, “I do like him some; surely you don’t dislike him for being smart.”

“I don’t mean smart that way; but there’s another bigger reason than that: he is always with you when I want to be.”

“Well, that’s your fault,” she replied, looking at me archly. “I am sure if he comes to me first you can’t expect me to drive him away for you, can you?”

“But he’s been with you all to-night, and I have not had a chance to even talk with you a minute. I wanted to carry you to the supper, but of course he was ahead of me.”

“You ought to have asked me before he did.”

“Even if I had you would have preferred going with him, wouldn’t you?”

“Oh! I must not say, it might flatter you.”

“I wish,” I muttered savagely, “he was back in South Carolina, or wherever he came from.”

“I certainly do not,” she said, with some warmth; “I thought you and Frank were great friends.”

“We were at first, but ever since he lied to Miss Hester, I have not had any use for him.”

“I was angry with him myself that day,” she said, after a little pause, and with a slight change in her tone, “but he has made it all right since. He says he did not see any reason why he should take a whipping when he could get out of it without telling a lie. I cried real hard, though, that day about you and Ned.”

“I don’t expect you cried much for me; ‘twas all for Ned.”

This I said as a feeler, and I watched closely, as well as vainly, to discover some sign of emotion in her reply.

“No, indeed,” she said, looking straight at me, without any drooping of the timorous eyelids, as I had expected; “I felt as if I could take half your blows.”

“I would have them doubled to hear you say so,” I replied, with great warmth and an attempt at a theatrical pressure of my heart, which, however, failed in its effect, from my ignorance of the exact location of that vital organ.

The conversation was now beginning to assume for me a most agreeable turn, and I was beginning to feel recompensed for all my chagrin of the evening, when, to my unspeakable horror I saw William, our servant, coming across the room with my cloak in his hand.

“Marse John, your father says it is time for you to come home. Here is your cloak mistis sent.”

The reversion of feeling was too strong for utterance, and with a choked voice and swimming eyes I rose, and, without a word of parting to Lulie, went out with William. Just as I reached the outer door I met Frank coming in. He bowed with mock reverence, and said, with a sneer:

“Good night, little baby; go to your cradle.”

“I’ll whip you to-morrow!” was all I could grind out between my clenched teeth, while he ran, laughing, into the hall. As I groped my way down the steps, my eyes all blinded with tears, I heard some one say:

“Here come the band! they are going to play for the children.”

This was the last feather on the camel’s back of my fortitude, and I broke down into sobbing.

To have Lulie think I was babyish, and had to be sent for; to have our conversation broken off so suddenly, when it was becoming so pleasant; to leave a scene of gaiety before it was finished, and then, too, when the best part was coming, and, above all, to have my hated rival triumph in my humiliation, was enough to have crushed a stouter heart than mine.

When we reached the corner, round which we turned into our street, William stopped, and said:

“There! listen at the music!”

I wiped away the tears from my eyes, and looked back at the building. ‘Twas brightly illuminated, and indistinct forms could be seen passing to and fro at the windows. A quick, lively air from the band came floating to my ears, and I knew Frank was by Lulie’s side.

“Oh, William,” I sobbed, “I—do—want—to—go back—so bad.”

“I think it was a pity marster sent for you so soon,” he said, “but you are done and away now, and we’d better go on home.”

Wretched, indeed, I ascended the steps at home, and was met at the door by father.

“Well, Johnnie,” he said, locking the door after I had gotten in, “this is right late for a little boy to be up, isn’t it? What! crying! What is the matter?”

“Father—, I did—hate to—leave—so much—. The—band was coming—to play—for us—and I was just—beginning to—see some—fun.”

“I am sorry I broke you up,” he said, kindly, “but it is very late, and much for the best that you should be at home. Good night; run up to bed.”

I went up to my room, and tumbled on the bed with my clothes on. My mind was full of bitter, burning thoughts. I fancied I could still hear the band, and whenever I closed my eyes Lulie’s form, with Frank hovering near, rose to my vision.

Next morning I rose with a headache, and for relief walked out. My steps involuntarily led me to the scene of my chagrin, and in a sad kind of reverie I wandered through the rooms.

‘Tis sad food for reflection to visit a ball room the morning after the ball. Dreary silence has taken the place of noisy mirth and revelry, and the walls and floor look wan in the yellow sunlight, as if suffering from their night’s dissipation. The chandeliers quiver their pendent prisms at your approach, and tinkle a drowsy salutation. Around the music stand are scattered a leaf or two of music, fragments of rosin, and half sucked lemons; along the floor we pick up a fallen wreath, a slipper’s rosette, or a torn fragment of tarlatan. These are all that remind us of the whirling throng that mingled here.

‘Tis very much like life! We thoughtlessly dance upon its arena, and departing leave behind us, some at least, the evergreen wreath, some the tarnished rosette of pleasures tried and found empty, and some the poor torn shred of fruitless ambition.

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