er labors. Poor little man, it is the
knowledge that he is really needed at home, as much as homesickness,
that preys on his mind,--his mother is making a noble sacrifice to let
him stay in the school. It seems to comfort him somewhat to weep on a
sympathetic bosom. Peppermint candy, too, is not without its efficacy.

To-day came Taulbee Bolling, a dignified boy of thirteen, with a
critical eye, and later, Mr. Atkins again, with the "pure scholar" in
tow. Iry is a thin, puny-looking mite of ten, much too small for his
trousers. He said "Yes sir" and "No sir" most politely when speaking to
me, and carried an old blue-back speller under one arm. So great was my
curiosity that I opened the book at once. The result was
amazing,--"genealogical" and "irreconcilable" were child's-play to him,
"incomprehensibility," a bagatelle. It was interesting to see his scared
little face brighten as he climbed up and down the hard words and beheld
my growing astonishment.

[Illustration: "'Genealogical' and 'irreconcilable' were child's play to
him, 'incomprehensibility,' a bagatelle."]

This afternoon while I had the boys mending the back fence, Geordie, who
had been left to scrub my floor with carbolic acid solution, came back
to the stable-lot bringing a new boy, whom with a flourish of his brush
he introduced as follows:

"Here's the boy that fit the marshal that kilt his paw. And one time he
seed the world and rid on a railroad train. Killis Blair's the name he
goes by." Killis is a handsome blonde boy of twelve, not unaware of his
double importance.

To-night after study-hour there was another catechism by Geordie. "Tell
about ridin' on the railroad train!" he ordered.

Killis began: "The month before paw got kilt last spring, the officers
was a-watching him so clost he was afeared to sell any liquor round
about home, so me and him we tuck a barrel acrost the mountains to
Virginia, where there's mines, and it would fetch a good price. We
loaded fodder on top. The going was awful sorry, and the steers was
three days at it. When I got there, I seed men walking round with their
hats afire, and went down to the railroad-train and rid on the engine."

"What did it look like?" demanded Philip, breathlessly.

"Sort of like a saw-mill sot up on wheels."

"I'd sooner die as not to see one!" sighed Philip.

"I aim to see one when I'm a perfessor," remarked Taulbee.

"I bet I see a hundred when I go to be a soldier," said Nucky.