a pale, puffy boy, dull,
fretful, and lazy. A friend persuaded her to send him to Plumfield, and
there he soon got waked up, for sweet things were seldom allowed, much
exercise required, and study made so pleasant, that Stuffy was gently
lured along, till he quite amazed his anxious mamma by his improvement,
and convinced her that there was really something remarkable in
Plumfield air.

Billy Ward was what the Scotch tenderly call an "innocent," for though
thirteen years old, he was like a child of six. He had been an unusually
intelligent boy, and his father had hurried him on too fast, giving him
all sorts of hard lessons, keeping at his books six hours a day, and
expecting him to absorb knowledge as a Strasburg goose does the food
crammed down its throat. He thought he was doing his duty, but he nearly
killed the boy, for a fever gave the poor child a sad holiday, and when
he recovered, the overtasked brain gave out, and Billy's mind was like a
slate over which a sponge has passed, leaving it blank.

It was a terrible lesson to his ambitious father; he could not bear the
sight of his promising child, changed to a feeble idiot, and he sent
him away to Plumfield, scarcely hoping that he could be helped, but sure
that he would be kindly treated. Quite docile and harmless was Billy,
and it was pitiful to see how hard he tried to learn, as if groping
dimly after the lost knowledge which had cost him so much.

Day after day, he pored over the alphabet, proudly said A and B, and
thought that he knew them, but on the morrow they were gone, and all
the work was to be done over again. Mr. Bhaer had infinite patience with
him, and kept on in spite of the apparent hopelessness of the task, not
caring for book lessons, but trying gently to clear away the mists from
the darkened mind, and give it back intelligence enough to make the boy
less a burden and an affliction.

Mrs. Bhaer strengthened his health by every aid she could invent, and
the boys all pitied and were kind to him. He did not like their active
plays, but would sit for hours watching the doves, would dig holes for
Teddy till even that ardent grubber was satisfied, or follow Silas, the
man, from place to place seeing him work, for honest Si was very good to
him, and though he forgot his letters Billy remembered friendly faces.

Tommy Bangs was the scapegrace of the school, and the most trying
scapegrace that ever lived. As full of mischief as a monkey, yet
so goo