rosaic highways of addition,
multiplication and division, but could be easily lured to wander
the flowery lanes of romantic fiction, was soon grasped by the
downstairs pupils. The hour set for recitation by the first class
in arithmetic was often and often monopolized by a hold-over of the
first class in reading, while Miss Floretta, artfully spurred by
questions asked by the older scholars, rhapsodized on the beauties
of James Fenimore Cooper's "Uncas," or Dickens' "Little Nell," or
Scott's "Ellen." Some of us antiques, then tow-headed little
shavers in the front seats, can still remember Miss Floretta's
rendition of the lines:

"And Saxon--I am Roderick Dhu!"

The extremely genteel, not to say ladylike, elocution of the
Highland chief and the indescribable rising inflection and emphasis
on the "I."

These literary rambles had their inevitable effect, an effect
noted, after a time, and called to the attention of the school
committee by old Captain Lycurgus Batcheldor, whose two
grandchildren were among the ramblers.

"Say," demanded Captain Lycurgus, "how old does a young-one have to
be afore it's supposed to know how much four times eight is? My
Sarah's Nathan is pretty nigh ten and HE don't know it. Gave me
three answers he did; first that 'twas forty-eight, then that 'twas
eighty-four and then that he'd forgot what 'twas. But I noticed he
could tell me a whole string about some feller called Lockintar or
Lochinvar or some such outlandish name, and not only his name but
where he came from, which was out west somewheres. A poetry piece
'twas; Nate said the teacher'd been speakin' it to 'em. I ain't
got no objection to speakin' pieces, but I do object to bein' told
that four times eight is eighty-four, 'specially when I'm buyin'
codfish at eight cents a pound. I ain't on the school committee,
but if I was--"

So the committee investigated and when Miss Thompson's year was up
and the question arose as to her re-engagement, there was
considerable hesitancy. But the situation was relieved in a most
unexpected fashion. Thaddeus Winslow, first mate on the clipper
ship, "Owner's Favorite," at home from a voyage to the Dutch East
Indies, fell in love with Miss Floretta, proposed, was accepted and
married her.

It was an odd match: Floretta, pale, polite, impractical and
intensely romantic; Thad, florid, rough and to the point. Yet the
married pair seemed to be happy together. Winslow went to sea on
seve