it out under the
leafy canopy and revel in the sounds that can be heard only in the
country--the croaking of the frogs, the soft twittering of the birds
somewhere near, yet out of sight, the cosey crooning of the chickens
as they settle upon their perches for the night, and the lonely
hooting of the owl somewhere in the big tree down in the pasture. I
need not move from my seat nor barter my money for a concert in some
majestic hall ablaze with lights when such music as this may be had
for the listening. Under the magic of such music the body relaxes
and the soul expands. The soft breezes caress the brow, and the moon
makes shimmering patterns on the grass.

But when I return to the town to resume my school-mastering, then the
strain begins, and then the reign of complexities is renewed. When I
am fully garbed in my town clothing I find myself the possessor of
nineteen pockets. What they are all for is more than I can make out.
If I had them all in use I'd have to have a detective along with me
to help me find things. Out there on the farm two pockets quite
suffice, but in the town I must have seventeen more. The difference
between town and country seems to be about the difference between
grubbing willows and schoolmastering. Among the willows I find two
pockets are all I require; but among the children I must needs have
nineteen, whether I have anything in them or not.

One of these seems to be designed for a college degree; another is an
efficiency pocket; another a discipline pocket; another a pocket for
methods; another for professional spirit; another for loyalty to all
the folks who are in need of loyalty, and so on. I really do not
know all the labels. When I was examined for a license to teach they
counted my pockets, and, finding I had the requisite nineteen, they
bestowed upon me the coveted document with something approaching
_eclat_. In my teaching I become so bewildered ransacking these
pockets, trying to find something that will bear some resemblance to
the label, that I come near forgetting the boys and girls. But they
are very nice and polite about it, and seem to feel sorry that I must
look after all my pockets when I'd so much rather be teaching.

Out in the willow thicket I can go right on with my work without so
much care or perplexity. Why, I don't need to do any talking out
there, and so have time to do some thinking. But here I do so much
talking that neither I nor my pupils have