 | CHAPTER VII. Locke Amsden, The schoolmaster |  |
7. CHAPTER VII.
I tell you, friend, — a wise man and a fool.”
Pope.
The year was again drawing towards its close; and the
usual season for beginning winter schools had nearly arrived.
In his journeys to and from college, at the time of his matriculation,
and afterwards on his occasional brief visits to
his family, young Amsden had passed through a thriving
little village, which was generally known by the name of
Mill Town, but which its ambitious inhabitants had recently
thought to dignify, by re-christening it by the more sonorous
and classical appellation of Mill Town Emporium. The village,
numbering perhaps two hundred souls, contained a
store, a tavern, a cluster of mills, and several very spruce-looking
dwelling-houses, among which the newly-painted two-story
house of the merchant glared in conspicuous whiteness.
And, as our hero was now on his way homeward, and in
search of some good situation in a winter's school, which he
had neglected to secure, — though many eligible ones had been
offered him, which he had declined on account of their location,
— he concluded to call at this place, in order to ascertain
whether he might not here obtain a situation, which for him
might prove a desirable one, as the village was pleasantly located
on the main road leading to, and within half a day's
ride from, the residence of his family, with whom he wished to
keep up a personal intercourse. Upon inquiry of the bustling
keeper of the inn where he stopped, Locke was told that the
that the managing committee, consisting of the merchant of
the place, the tailor, and the newspaper editor (for a political
newspaper, called The Blazing Star, had just been established
in this miniature city), “were now on the look-out to engage
a man of those splendidest qualifications which the growing
importance of the place demanded.” Though somewhat
startled at this pompous announcement, our candidate yet
took directions to the house of the merchant, who, it was
said, would probably exercise a rather controlling influence
among this able board of managers. A few steps brought
him to the showy white house before named, as belonging to
the popular personage — as an only merchant of a little village
generally is — of whom he was in quest. On applying
the knocker, the door was opened by the merchant himself,
who appeared with a pen behind his ear, and invited the other
into his sitting room, where it appeared he had been posting
his books. He was a youngerly man, of an affectedly brisk
and courteous manner. Supposing his visiter had called
for the purposes of trade, he received him with all the smirks
and bows of a practised salesman, and began to talk rapidly
about nothing — i. e. the state of the weather, and the condition
of the roads for travelling. As soon, however, as Locke
announced his name and business, he suddenly became much
less profuse of his bows and smiles, and, assuming a consequential
air, observed, —
“Why, sir, we are not over-anxious to engage a teacher
just now — though, to be sure, we have so many applications
pressing upon us, that we shall be compelled to decide soon.
But you see, sir, we have a flourishing village here. It is
thought we shall have an academy soon. There are many
public-spirited and genteel people in the place; and they will
not be suited with any thing short of a teacher of the most
superfine qualifications.”
“I trust to be able to answer all reasonable expectations,
in that respect,” remarked Amsden, scarcely able to repress
a smile at the other's singular application of terms.
“Presume it — presume it — that is, can't say to the contrary.
But do you bring any letters of credit with you?”
“Credentials? I have something of the kind about me,
I believe; but having seen how easily they are obtained, and
how little reliance the public place upon them, I thought not
of offering them, preferring to be examined, and not doubting
that your committee would be abundantly able to satisfy
yourselves of my qualifications by such a course much better
than by a dependence on the certificates of others.”
“That 's fair — that 's fair, sir. Why, to be sure, I profess
to know something myself about education, having been to
an academy a quarter before entering business; and the gentlemen
who are committee with me, one the editor of the
Blazing Star, and the other the merchant tailor of our village,
are both men of some parts — especially our editor,
whom I consider to be a man of splendid talents. I will
send for them, sir.”
So saying, the merchant committee-man went out and despatched
a boy for his colleagues, who soon made their appearance,
and were thereupon introduced, in due form, to our
candidate for the throne of a village school. The new-comers
also were both men below the middle age. He of the
goose (we mean no disrespect to that honest calling, who take
all the jokes and get all the money) was a man of a fair,
feminine appearance, of pert, jaunty manners, and of showy
dress, done in the very extremes of last year's city fashions,
though recently made, and now worn as a sort of sign-board
sample to display constantly before the great public of Mill
Town Emporium, and its tributaries, convincing proof of his
signal ability to make good the glowing professions of his
standing advertisement in the Blazing Star, “to be always
York and London fashions.” The editor was a personage of
quite a different appearance. He was grave and severe of
look, his countenance plainly indicating how deeply he was
conscious of the important responsibilities of his position, as
conductor of the Blazing Star, on which the political destinies
of the country so much depended.
The sage trio, who were to decide on our hero's qualifications
in the sciences, being thus brought together, the merchant
announced to his colleagues the cause of the convocation,
and the progress already made in the business on hand.
“Do you teach after the latest style and fashion of teaching,
sir?” commenced the tailor, “there must be much in
that, I think. There is nothing like keeping up with the improvements
and latest style of the times, if one calculates to
succeed, in almost any thing, at this day.”
“As far as I could see changes to be improvements, I certainly
should follow them,” replied Locke.
“Do you teach book-keeping?” asked the merchant: “I
consider that to be of the last importance.”
“Literally, so do I, sir. An understanding, and mechanical
skill of execution, of the principles of penmanship, I consider
of the first importance; and, these attained, it may be
be lastly important that the pupil be instructed in book-keeping,”
answered Locke, without observing the air of pique
which became visible in the countenance of the interrogator
at this answer.
“I feel impelled by my sense of duty to my country,” said
the editor, “to make a preliminary question. And I trust
the gentleman will excuse my desire to know which of the
two great political parties of the day he supports. This I
would not consider a sine qua non, or even very important,
at some periods in our public affairs; but when, as now, I see
an obnoxious party power stalking through the land, like the
country, I do hold it an imperious duty to know the principles
of those we encourage; not because I should fear that one
of that party, whose further increase I so much deprecate,
could exercise a pernicious influence in our intelligent village,
where, since the establishment of the Blazing Star, the
political views of the people, I am proud to say, are so generally
correct — no, not at all on that account, but for the
inherent principle of the thing.”
“I have never,” replied Locke, utterly surprised that a
test-question of this kind should be put to him, “I have
never, till within the present year, been qualified by age for
a voter. I have examined the leading principles of our government,
it is true, and I much admire them; but, supposing
that the opposing parties of the day were all mainly agreed
in their aims to sustain those principles, and were, after all,
only disputing about men, or at the worst, the different means
of gaining the same end, I have so little interested myself in
party questions, that I have as yet formed no decided preferences
for either side.”
“You are mistaken, sir,” rejoined the editor. “If you
suppose that both parties are for sustaining the same principles,
you are most” —
The speaker was here interrupted by a smart rap of the
knocker without. The merchant sprang to the door, and
soon ushered into the room a personage alike unexpected
and unknown to all present. His appearance at once showed
him to be a person of many airs, with no lack of confidence
in himself. He carried a tasselled cane, and wore a showy
safety-chain, with an abundance of watch-seals, to say the
least, dangling from his pocket, while his dress was what has
significantly been termed the shabby-genteel. After inquiring
if the gentlemen present were the school committee, he
announced his business, which, to the surprise, and, it must
to be the same that had prompted his own call. The committee,
however, seemed very far from looking upon the visit
of the stranger as an intrusion; and, apprising him that they
had just commenced the examination of one candidate, they
told him “the more the merrier,” as it would afford them a
better chance for selection, and invited him to make number
two; which being assented to, they proceeded with the examination.
“What are your views, Mr. Blake — for that, I think, you
told me was your name” — said the editor, whose mind was
still running on the subject on which he was about to be eloquent,
when interrupted by the entrance of the new candidate;
“What are your views of the propriety of instilling
correct political principles into the minds of your pupils, who
are the rising generation, and soon to wield the destinies of
our glorious republic?”
“I hold, sir,” replied Blake, who, it appeared, had cunningly
inquired out the calling, politics, &c., of each of the
committee, before coming near them, — “I do hold, though others
may disagree with me, that it is rather important to attend
to the particular you have instigated, sir. I'm always open
in my politics. I read several articles in a newspaper over
at the tavern, just now, while waiting for my dinner, that
speaks my sentiments on that head exactly.”
“What paper was it?” eagerly asked the editor.
“I did n't mind particularly,” replied the other, with affected
carelessness; “but I think it was the Star, or some such
title.”
“The Blazing Star?” said the former, with a complaisant
bow.
“The same,” rejoined Blake, “the very same; I now
recall it.”
“That is the paper, sir, which I have the honor of conducting,”
smile.
“Indeed! Why, sir,” said Blake, with pretended embarrassment,
“why, sir, had I supposed — but I was so struck
with the able — I hope you will pardon me, sir, for introducing”
—
“O certainly, certainly, sir,” interrupted the editor. “I
feel myself both flattered and gratified by your opinions.
There, gentlemen,” he continued, turning with a triumphant
air to his two associates, “I have done what I considered my
duty with the candidates, on the point in which I feel a deep
interest. I am now willing to turn them over to you, for
examination in the sciences.”
“I should like to hear what Mr. Blake thinks about
teaching book-keeping in a school, since I have the misfortune
to disagree with the other gentleman here,” said the
merchant.
“Book-keeping?” said Blake, instantly catching a hint
from the last part of the other's observation. “O, book-keeping
is quite essential — quite, sir, quite; I always learn
it to my pupils.”
“I think so; I think it's an important item in the account,”
responded the merchant, glancing round at his colleagues,
significantly, as he threw himself back with a self-satisfied
air.
“I have a boy,” said the tailor, “whom is pretty cute in
grammar, as all allow; and I would be pleased to hear the
gentlemen explain on that department, and tell whether their
mode and manner of teaching it is of the latest style?”
Mr. Blake here being not so prompt as usual in taking the
lead, Amsden briefly but clearly explained the first principles
of English Grammar, the object and uses of that branch,
and his manner of teaching it by the text-books of Murray
to give his views in so pointed a manner, that he saw no way
to avoid saying something on the subject — with some hesitation
observed,
“Well, gentlemen, my notions about grammar may be different
from others, perhaps yours. Now my sentiments is
something like this: — the true use of grammar is to learn
'em sense. Well, in what the gentleman here calls parsing
Syntax, I, now, should make my scholars find out the sense
of a piece. And if they can do that, it is all I should require;
because the only use of grammar being to learn 'em
the sense, as I said, why, the work is done, a n't it? I take
it so, gentlemen. But suppose they can 't do this, then I
should take the piece in hand myself; and if I could not
make sense out of it, then I should call it false grammar,
that 's all. So when I have my scholars write compositions,
I square the grammar of their pieces upon the sense they
contain; for where there 's sense, there must, in course, be
grammar; and visy versy. Now that 's my system, gentlemen.
For I have no notion of spoiling sense to make it fay
in with book rules; but I make the grammar come down to
the sense, not the sense give up to the grammar.”
“Just my sentiments, to a shaving!” exclaimed the merchant.
I used to study grammar when at the academy, and
bothered and bothered to parse by the rules; but I never
could see the use of it. And now, in my business letters, I
never think of trying to write by any of the rules I learnt;
and yet I write grammar, because I write sense, as he says.
Yes, them 's my sentiments about grammar.”
“Well, it does look kinder reasonable,” said the tailor,
“though my boy learnt the rules, syntax, and catemology,
and all; and I do n't know what he would say to leaving 'em
off. But perhaps this way of teaching grammar the gentleman
be all the style?” he added, inquiringly looking at the patent
grammarian who had just before spoken.
“Precisely,” answered the other, with a conciliating nod;
“it is indeed, sir, a new system, of the very latest cut.”
“I am satisfied, then, sir,” rejoined the other.
“Which is the most useful rule in arithmetic, Mr. Amsden?”
asked the merchant. “I profess to know something
about that, myself.”
“Why, that would be nearly as difficult to tell, I imagine,
as regards all the fundamental rules, as it would be to point
out the most useful wheel of a watch, in which all the wheels
are required to keep the whole in motion,” replied Locke.
“Now I do n't think so,” said the questioner; “but I' ll ask
Mr. Blake?”
“O, I say the rule that helps a man most to do business
by, and you know quite well what that is, I fancy; for you
tell what the articles you sell come to by that,” observed
Blake, obsequiously bowing to the merchant.
“Ay; I see you are a practical man, Mr. Blake,” here
chimed in the editor; “and such men are the very nerves
and sinews of our republic.”
“I care less about that,” rejoined the merchant; “but I
must say I approve the gentleman's views of grammar and
arithmetic. But suppose we now pass on to geography —
“How do you bound the Polar Sea, Mr. Amsden?”
“Which Polar Sea?” asked Locke, quite innocently.
“Why, the Frozen Sea, to be sure,” said the other.
“I must still ask to which Polar or Frozen Sea you refer,
sir, before I can answer your question,” said the former;
“the Northern or Southern?”
“Well, that beats me,” observed the erudite dealer; “I
had supposed the Frozen Ocean was, of course, in the north;
for we all know that the farther we go north, the colder it is;
think so, Mr. Blake?”
“Why, I had thought so, certainly,” responded Blake,
glancing at Amsden with a supercilious smile —“not that I
have any wish to expose any body's ignorance, by any
means; but being appealed to in the matter, so, it 's but civil
to answer the question. And, now I am speaking on the
subject of geographical literature, I may as well, gentlemen,”
he continued — deeming it now a favorable time to press the
advantage he supposed he had gained over his rival, by an
extra display of his erudition — “I may as well tell you at
once, that I rather pride myself on my knowledge of terrestrial
geography, and my improved modes of teaching it. I
teach it almost entirely by maps, and the map-making process.
And it would astonish you to see how quick scholars, in this
way, will become accomplished geographians. I learn 'em,
in a very short time, also, to make the most splendid maps,
equal, nearly, to the printed ones, of all sorts and sizes, both
on Mercator's project, as they call it, and on the principle of
circular latitudes. Nor is this but a small part of the embellishments
I teach my scholars, when they have the proper
instruments to work with. There 's the problems and the
circles, the squares, triangular geometry, ovals, perspective
configurations, and a thousand curious things, I could teach,
if I only had the instruments; such as Gunter's dividers, circumflutors,
and the like. And then I would teach musical
psalmody, of evenings, for nothing, which, as I see you are
about building a new church here, might be an object. In
short, gentlemen, I should be very happy to add my best
powers in accomplishing your children, and helping to build
up your flourishing village. But I leave the decision to you,
gentlemen, with the greatest pleasure; because I have discovered
you to be men of the most ecstatic discernment.”
As soon as the speaker had fairly delivered himself of this
the effrontery and ignorance of the fellow, or the ignorance
and blindness of the committee, who seemed so readily
to swallow all he said — inquired if there was not some man
of science in the place, who could be called in to conduct the
examination, and assist the committee in deciding upon the
merits of the applicants now before them. This inquiry, as
reasonable and fair as was its obvious object, produced, as a
close observer might have easily seen, considerable sensation
in the before well-assured mind of Locke's exulting competitor;
and his uneasiness was the next moment increased into
downright apprehension, by a remark of the tailor, who, in
a rather hesitating manner, said, —
“Why, there 's the minister that preaches half the time
here—and he 's now in the place, I guess. He 's a college-learnt
man, they say, and would be willing to come in, perhaps,
if —”
“Why, if these gentlemen,” interrupted Blake, rising in
visible agitation, “if these gentlemen do n't consider themselves
capable of deciding on our qualifications and embellishments,
then, I say, I am willing — perfectly willing, I
say, to” —
“Well, I am not,” interposed the luminous head of the
Blazing Star, with much decision. “I shall most pointedly
object to that measure. I should consider it as no less than
involving an approach to a sanction of that never-to-be-enough
reprobated doctrine of the union of church and state.
And I should raise my voice” —
“Ah! I think we can get along,” said the merchant, breaking
in on the latter, and now rising and looking at his watch
with an impatient and irritated air, “I think we can get
along without the help of the minister in this business. And
if the two gentlemen,” he continued, with rather a discriminating
gesture, “will step into the other room, or over to the
much trouble, I think.”
The two candidates accordingly retired, — Blake into the
adjoining room, and Amsden, as was doubtless intended, to
the tavern, — to give to the astute trio of examiners an opportunity
for private deliberation.
“Shall we mark, gentlemen?” said the merchant, cutting
three separate slips of paper, and passing two of them to his
colleagues, with a pencil, that each might write the name of
the candidate he would select, and present it for comparison
with those of the others, after the manner of appraising a
horse.
“Well, if I was fully satisfied about Mr. Blake's grammar”
— said the tailor, doubtingly, holding his pencil over
his paper.
“I am satisfied about it well enough for my case,” observed
the merchant, dashing down the chosen name with a decisive
sweep of the hand.
“And so am I,” responded the editor; “and what is more,
he is sound in political principles, to the core.
“O, I an't strenuous, gentlemen,” said the tailor, following
the example of the others in filling his blank.
The three slips, with the written sides downward, were
then held up together, and turned over, bringing the name on
each to view. And it was Blake — Blake — Blake!
“As I supposed,” said the merchant; “just as I knew it
must be. Boy,” he continued, opening the door leading into
the kitchen, “you may step over to the tavern, and say to
the gentleman who just went from here, that he need n't
trouble himself to call again. And, here! take this decanter,
and get it filled with the best wine at the store. We will
call in Mr. Blake, and settle the terms with him, over a bottle
of my nice Madeira; for I feel like taking a bumper on the
occasion.”
Meanwhile Locke, who was travelling horseback, but too
well anticipating the result of the deliberation just described,
had ordered his horse to the door, and stood impatiently waiting
for some sign or message from the white house, which
should apprise him of the decision of the committee. The
message came even sooner than he expected, and was delivered
by the boy literally, and no less cavalierly than it was
indited by his master. The next instant our rejected candidate
was in his saddle, and leaving Mill-Town Emporium at
a pace which his sober steed appeared to wonder should be
required by one who before had shown himself so moderate
and gentle a rider.
As soon as his feelings, smarting with chagrin and vexation
at his mortifying defeat, and the folly and ignorance
which, he believed, alone had occasioned it, — as soon as his
excited feelings had sufficiently subsided to permit of connected
thought, he reined his thankful horse into a walk, to
try to review the novel occurrences he had just witnessed,
and bestow upon them something like sober reflection.
“What does education avail me?” he despondingly soliloquized,
as he thought over his recent reception, and how he
had been set aside for an ignorant coxcomb, or at best a pitiful
smatterer. “The more I study, the worse I succeed.
Yes, what avails all this intellectual toil, if my acquirements
thereby are to be thus rewarded?” And as he pondered
upon these discouraging circumstances, he almost resolved to
abandon for ever all thought of that noble employment to
which he had so often declared his intention to devote himself.
Locke had, thus far, had no acquaintance with aught but country
life, with which he had been accustomed to associate ideas
of comparative ignorance and degradation, while his mind had
been directed to villages and cities, as the exclusive seats of
intelligence and refinement. Like many another modest
the pert dashing villager or citizen, as his supposed superior,
when the latter, probably, possessed not a tithe of his own
worth in all that should constitute true excellence of character.
For he had not learned that the people of cities and
villages, as a mass, are, generally, less thinking, and often,
less reading communities, than those formed of the residents
of the country, who, finding themselves outshone by the
former in external appearance, are thus driven to depend
more on intrinsic qualities on which to base a reputation,
leaving the others to dazzle by show, and, too often only,
It was not very strange, therefore, that with impressions
and views like those just named, contracted through a limited
knowledge of the world, young Amsden should have presented
himself at Mill-Town with a high opinion of the intelligence
of its inhabitants, or that his disappointment should
be great at finding things so exactly the reverse of what he
had anticipated. A knowledge of the world as it is would
have taught him that what he had witnessed was no miracle,
even in the most favored parts of our land of boasted intelligence;
and it might have taught him also, that he who
would succeed must always, in some measure, adapt the
means he employs to the compass of the minds of those with
whom he desires success.
As Locke was slowly jogging onward, deeply engrossed in
reflections which grew out of the occasion, and no less deeply
dejected in spirits at the dark and discouraging prospects before
him, he met a man in a sulky, who, in passing him, suddenly
halted, and pronounced his name. Looking up at the
traveller, now for the first time, the former at once recognized
him to be no other than Dr. Lincoln, the kind and gifted
at his school in the Horn-of-the-Moon.
“Why, this is a singular affair, this meeting you just at
this time and place,” said the doctor, gaily, after the usual
salutations had been exchanged. “I am almost minded to
quote a homely old proverb; for I have not travelled forty
rods since I was thinking of you, and really wishing that I
knew where you might be found. But more of that anon.
How has the world used you since I parted with you, Mr.
Amsden?”
“Mainly well — quite so, indeed, if I except a little vexation
of to-day's occurrence.”
“And what has crossed your path to-day of an unpleasant
nature? I perceived at the first glance that your countenance
wore a look of dejection that did not formerly belong
to it.”
“O, it is nothing of consequence, sir.”
“In one sense, it may be. I have long since observed, sir,
that there is no way in which a disturbed mind can be sooner
restored to its natural equilibrium, than by a disclosure of its
burden to others; even though it receive no sympathy in
return. We are made social beings; and the law of our
nature cannot be contravened with impunity here, any more
than in more important matters. The cause of your trouble
is none of my business to be sure; but a communication of
it, I will venture to say, will lighten your heart. And it is
best to enjoy all the happiness we can get, you know. So
let us have your story.”
Struck with the kind interest which the other seemed to
take in his concerns, Locke proceeded to give him a minute
detail of all the circumstances attending his application for
the school in the village he had just left, his examination,
and the result of the whole affair.
“And what opinion did you form of your successful rival?”
parts of the story.
“Why, that he was a pitiful ignoramus, to be sure.”
“Undoubtedly; but yet a fellow of considerable tact, and
a pretty keen insight into the weaknesses of men, and the
unworthy passions and selfish motives that too often govern
them. And all this he had need of, to succeed upon pretensions
so ridiculous; but with it, you see, he did succeed, and
that too, at fearful odds against him. With what low cunning
he first inquired the characters of the committee! — for
such, as you suppose, was probably the case. And then how
eagerly he seized on the first opportunity to bedaub them
with flattery, rightly judging that, in this instance, the words
of the poet would hold good,
The flattered always take your word.”
committee for himself, he appears fairly to have exemplified,
with them, the truth of another line of the same writer, by
making
pedler, or possibly a discarded subscription agent of catch-penny
books or periodicals, managed his slender stock in
trade to pretty good advantage. I see but one blunder that
need at all to have endangered him with his learned examiners,
— that was his mention of “circumflutors,” meaning,
probably, to have hit on circumferentors, of which he might
have heard from some students or surveyors with whom he
chanced to fall in company, perhaps. But even that blunder,
it seems, passed unnoticed. O, yes,” continued the doctor,
But what shall we say of that committee, who,
both through ignorance and will, have thus betrayed their
trust? And, furthermore, what shall we say of the people
of that village, who so blindly conferred that important trust
on such men? But we may spare words; for the employment
of this imposter will fall as a judgment on their children, in
the shape of errors imbibed, that will sufficiently punish these
people for their unpardonable blindness and folly. And I
will here tell you, Mr. Amsden, we have more to do in improving
the condition of our common schools than to increase
the number of qualified teachers. We have got to appoint
managing committees who are qualified to discover and
appreciate them. But enough of this; where do you think
of looking for a school now, my dear sir?”
“I know not where to look, or what to do,” replied Locke,
despondingly. “I am poor, and need, particularly at this
time, the amount of what would be respectable wages. But
our country schools afford so little remuneration; and as for
the villages, you see what my success is with them.”
“Do n't despair quite so soon, sir,” said Lincoln, a little
roguishly; “you may find some men in other villages of a
little larger pattern than that of the learned trio you just
encountered. What say you to coming to Cartersville, and
taking the school in the district where I live?”
“I would,” replied Locke, “if you were to be the examining
committee.”
“Well, I shall be,” rejoined the doctor, “for all the examination
I shall want of you.”
“How am I to take you, sir?” asked the former, with a
doubtful air.
“Why, that, as it strangely happens, I am sole committee
myself,” answered the doctor.
“Indeed! is it possible?” exclaimed Locke, unable to conceal
him.
“It happens, for once, to be so,” said the other. “About
a week since, being at home, and at leisure, I, for the first
time for years, attended our annual school-meeting, and was,
partly out of sport, I do believe, voted in sole committee-man,
nobody believing I would accept the office. I, however, after
giving them my views as to the kind of teacher we needed,
his compensation, &c., told the meeting I would accept, if
they would allow me to do exactly as I chose, without grumbling.
And, they finally consenting, I took upon myself the
really important duties of that post. And it was with a view
of faithfully discharging them, that I was just thinking of
you, as a teacher who would do much towards raising the
low condition of our school. You shall name your own
wages, if within any reasonable sum, and the length of your
engagement for any period short of six months. What say
you to all this, my friend?”
It is needless to say how gladly these proposals were accepted
by our hero. And, having settled the details of the
bargain, he bade adieu, for the present, to his kind friend,
and with a countenance as grateful and sunny, as, one half
hour before, it had been gloomy and dejected, resumed his
journey homewards, to spend a happy week with his family,
before entering on his new engagement.
| CHAPTER VII. Locke Amsden, The schoolmaster | |