xpect to get
along through the briars and thorns, over the rocks and the hills with
nothing but a blush on your cheek, a tear in your eye, and a sentimental
song on your lips? Independence is the reward of the working mind, the
thinking brain, and the earnest heart."

He grew really eloquent as he went on. He raised his head to an erect
position, and ran his fingers through his bushy locks. I cannot remember
all he said, but every word he uttered had meaning in it. I appreciated
for the first time the difficulties and trials of a teacher's vocation.
I had thought before, that it was the pupil only who bore the burden of
endurance. It had never entered my mind that the crown of authority
covered the thorns of care, that the wide sweep of command wearied more
than the restraint of subjection. I was flattered by the manner in which
he addressed me, the interest he expressed in my future prospects. I
found myself talking freely to him of myself, of my hopes and my fears.
I forgot the tyrant of yesterday in the friend of to-day. I remember one
thing he said, which is worth recording.

"It is very unfortunate when a child, in consequence of a facility of
making rhyme, is led to believe herself a poetess,--or, in other words,
a prodigy. She is praised and flattered by injudicious friends, till she
becomes inflated by vanity and exalted by pride. She wanders idly,
without aim or goal, in the flowery paths of poesy, forgetful of the
great highway of knowledge, not made alone for the chariot wheels of
kings, but the feet of the humblest wayfarer."

When he began to address me, he remembered that I was a child, but
before he finished the sentence he forgot my age, and his thoughts and
language swelled and rose to the comprehension of manhood. But I
understood him. Perhaps there was something in my fixed and fascinated
glance that made him conscious of my full appreciation.

"I have no friends to praise and flatter me," I simply answered. "I have
loved to sing in rhyme as the little birds sing, because God gave me the
power."

He looked pleased. He even laid his hand on my head and smiled. Not the
cold smile of yesterday, but quite a genial smile. I could hardly
believe it the same face, it softened and transformed it so. I
involuntarily drew nearer to him, drawn by that powerful magnetism,
which every human heart feels more or less.

The great brazen tongue of the town clock rang discordantly on the sweet
stillness of the m