one of his children by death, he hoped it would be Isaac. The father
of Doctor Adam Clarke, the commentator, called his boy 'a grievous
dunce.' Cortina, a renowned painter, was nicknamed, by his associates,
'Ass' Head,' on account of his stupidity, when a boy. When the mother of
Sheridan once went with him to the school-room, she told the teacher
that he was 'an incorrigible dunce,' and the latter was soon compelled
to believe her. One teacher sent Chatterton home to his mother as 'a
fool of whom nothing could be made.' Napoleon and Wellington were both
backward scholars. And Sir Walter Scott was named the 'The Great
Blockhead' at school. But some of these men, at a certain period of
youth, changed their course of living, and began to apply themselves
with great earnestness and assiduity to the acquisition of knowledge,
while others, though naturally dull, improved their opportunities from
the beginning, and all became renowned. No one of them advanced without
close application. It was by their own persevering efforts that they
finally triumphed over all difficulties. So it must be with yourselves.
The dullest scholar in this room may distinguish himself by application
and dint of perseverance, while the brightest may fail of success, by
wasting his time and trusting to his genius. The motto of every youth
should be 'UPWARD AND ONWARD.'"

CHAPTER III.

SATURDAY AFTERNOON.

The bright summer-time had come again, when the sweet-scented blossoms
beautified the gardens, and the forming fruits gave promise of a rich
golden harvest. The school-bell sent out its merry call to the laughing
children, and scores of them daily went up to the temple of knowledge
for improvement. Saturday afternoon was a season of recreation, when the
pupils, released from school, engaged in various sports, or performed
some light labor for their parents.

On a certain Saturday afternoon, Nat, Charlie, Frank, and one or two
other boys, arranged for a "good time" at the house of one of the
number. They were all there promptly at the appointed time, together
with Frank's little dog Trip--a genuine favorite with all the boys who
had any regard for dog-brightness and amiability.

"Look here, Frank, has Trip forgot how to play hy-spy?" asked Charlie.

"No; he will play it about as well as _you_ can. Let us try it."

"You can't learn him to touch the goal, can you?" inquired another boy.

"No," replied Frank; "but I expect he will before h