y air
Every night, when the sun went down;
And the soft wind played in his silvery hair,
Leaving its tenderest kisses there,
On the jolly old pedagogue's jolly old crown;
And feeling the kisses, he smiled, and said:
" 'T is it glorious world down here below;
Why wait for happiness till we are dead?"
Said this jolly old pedagogue, long ago.

He sat at his door one midsummer night,
After the sun had sunk in the west,
And the lingering beams of golden light
Made his kindly old face look warm and bright,
While the odorous night winds whispered, "Rest!"
Gently, gently, he bowed his head;
There were angels waiting for him, I know;
He was sure of his happiness, living or dead,
This jolly old pedagogue, long ago!

XXVI. THE TEACHER AND SICK SCHOLAR. (135)

Shortly after the schoolmaster had arranged the forms and taken his seat
behind his desk, a small white-headed boy with a sunburnt face appeared at
the door, and, stopping there to make a rustic bow, came in and took his
seat upon one of the forms. He then put an open book, astonishingly
dog's-eared, upon his knees, and, thrusting his hands into his pockets,
began counting the marbles with which they were filled; displaying, in the
expression of his face, a remarkable capacity of totally abstracting his
mind from the spelling on which his eyes were fixed.

Soon afterward, another white-headed little boy came straggling in, and
after him, a red-headed lad, and then one with a flaxen poll, until the
forms were occupied by a dozen boys, or thereabouts, with heads of every
color but gray, and ranging in their ages from four years old to fourteen
years or more; for the legs of the youngest were a long way from the
floor, when he sat upon the form; and the eldest was a heavy,
good-tempered fellow, about half a head taller than the schoolmaster.

At the top of the first form--the post of honor in the school--was the
vacant place of the little sick scholar; and, at the head of the row of
pegs, on which those who wore hats or caps were wont to hang them, one was
empty. No boy attempted to violate the sanctity of seat or peg, but many a
one looked from the empty spaces to the schoolmaster, and whispered to his
idle neighbor, behind his hand.

Then began the hum of conning over lessons and getting them by heart, the
whispered jest and stealthy game, and all the noise and drawl of school;
and in the midst of the din, sat the poor schoolmaster, vainly attemp