m, holding on to her gown. Still these books
were much nicer, he thought, than the ones Master Knapp told him to
study. He was full of fun and frolic and took all Master Knapp's rebukes
so cheerfully that the teacher could not get angry with him. His
schoolmates adored him. Even if he did play a good many jokes on them,
they were not mean, vicious jokes. He had altogether too kind a heart to
hurt a person or to say unkind things. He did manage to get his history
lessons, and he liked to read lives of great men. But he did not study
any great amount until after his father moved to Boston, and William
began to fit himself for Harvard College. He was proud of his father and
fancied that he would like to be a lawyer like him.

[Illustration: The poor fellow fell to the floor as if he were dead.

_Page 166._]

Young Prescott had been in college but a short time when, one night at
dinner, a rough, rude student hurled a hard crust of bread across the
table, not aiming at any one in particular. But it hit Prescott in his
left eye and destroyed the sight in it. The poor fellow fell to the
floor as if he were dead and was very ill for weeks. Then it was that he
began to earn his title of Prescott, the brave. He did not complain, he
did not say: "Well, of course, I shall never try to do anything now that
I have only one eye to use." Instead, he kept up his spirits and
finished his course at Harvard gayly. Everybody talked of his pluck. He
was asked to be orator of his class, and he wrote for graduation day a
Latin poem on Hope, which he recited with such a happy face and manner
that the people clapped their hands and cheered. His parents were so
pleased that William could finish his college work, in spite of his
accident, and that he could keep right on being a rollicking, laughing
boy, that they spread a great tent on the college grounds and feasted
five hundred friends who had come to see William graduate.

Then William went on a wonderful visit to the Azores. His mother's
brother, Thomas Hickling, was United States Consul at St. Michael. This
uncle had married a Portuguese lady, and there was a large family of
cousins to entertain the New England boy. Mr. Hickling had a big country
house and a lot of spirited horses. As William drove over the lovely
island, he used to laugh at the funny little burros the working people
rode and the strange costumes they wore. Of course, he found St. Michael
a different looking place from Bos