estimonial for myself I should say that it was much to my credit
that I loved a boy like that.

As a boy my risibilities were easily excited, and I'm glad that, even
yet, I have not entirely overcome that weakness. If I couldn't have
a big laugh, now and then, I'd feel that I ought to consult a
physician. My boys and girls and I often laugh together, but never
at one another. Sant had a deal of fun with my propensity to laugh.
When we were conning our geography lesson, he would make puns upon
such names as Chattahoochee and Appalachicola, and I would promptly
explode. Then, enter the teacher. But I drop the mantle of charity
over the next scene, for his school-teaching was altogether personal,
and not pedagogical. He didn't know that puns and laughter were the
reactions on the part of us boys that caused us to know the facts of
the book. But he wanted us to learn those facts in his way, and not
in our own. Poor fellow! _Requiescat in pace_, if he can.

Sant was the first one of our crowd to go to college, and we were all
proud of him, and predicted great things for him. We all knew he was
brilliant and felt certain that the great ones in the college would
soon find it out. And they did; for ever and anon some news would
filter through to us that Sant was battening upon Latin, Greek,
mathematics, science, and history. Of course, we gave all the credit
to our little school, and seemed to forget that the Lord may have had
something to do with it. When we proved by Sant's achievements that
our school was _ne plus ultra_, I noticed that the irascible teacher
joined heartily in the chorus. I intend to get all the glory I can
from the achievements of my pupils, but I do hope that they may not
be my sole dependence at the distribution of glory. Yes, Sant
graduated, and his name was written high upon the scroll. But he
could not deliver his oration, for he was sick, and a friend read it
for him. And when he arose to receive his diploma he had to stand on
crutches. They took him home in a carriage, and within a week he was
dead. The fires of genius had burned brightly for a time and then
went out in darkness, because his father and mother were first
cousins.

At the conclusion of this story, the boys were silent for a long
time, and I knew the story was having its effect. Then there was a
slight movement, and one of them put into my hand another pine stick.
I whittled in silence for a time, and then told th