ng lights
and shadows, inviting to runs and leaps, and long walks God knows
whither. It was more than boy could bear, and with a joyous whoop the
whole cluster took to their heels and spread themselves about, shouting
and laughing as they went.

'It's natural, thank Heaven!' said the poor schoolmaster, looking after
them. 'I'm very glad they didn't mind me!'

It is difficult, however, to please everybody, as most of us would have
discovered, even without the fable which bears that moral, and in the
course of the afternoon several mothers and aunts of pupils looked in
to express their entire disapproval of the schoolmaster's proceeding.
A few confined themselves to hints, such as politely inquiring what
red-letter day or saint's day the almanack said it was; a few (these
were the profound village politicians) argued that it was a slight to
the throne and an affront to church and state, and savoured of
revolutionary principles, to grant a half-holiday upon any lighter
occasion than the birthday of the Monarch; but the majority expressed
their displeasure on private grounds and in plain terms, arguing that
to put the pupils on this short allowance of learning was nothing but
an act of downright robbery and fraud: and one old lady, finding that
she could not inflame or irritate the peaceable schoolmaster by talking
to him, bounced out of his house and talked at him for half-an-hour
outside his own window, to another old lady, saying that of course he
would deduct this half-holiday from his weekly charge, or of course he
would naturally expect to have an opposition started against him; there
was no want of idle chaps in that neighbourhood (here the old lady
raised her voice), and some chaps who were too idle even to be
schoolmasters, might soon find that there were other chaps put over
their heads, and so she would have them take care, and look pretty
sharp about them. But all these taunts and vexations failed to elicit
one word from the meek schoolmaster, who sat with the child by his
side--a little more dejected perhaps, but quite silent and
uncomplaining.

Towards night an old woman came tottering up the garden as speedily as
she could, and meeting the schoolmaster at the door, said he was to go
to Dame West's directly, and had best run on before her. He and the
child were on the point of going out together for a walk, and without
relinquishing her hand, the schoolmaster hurried away, leaving the
messenger to foll