,--tears which I was forced to conceal,
being very well assured from experience, that any sympathy of mine, if
noticed, would be certain to procure me or any other friend of his, an
ample participation in his punishment. He was, in truth, the scape-goat
of the school, and it makes my blood boil, even whilst I write, to think
how the poor friendless lad, far removed from either father or mother,
was kicked, and cuffed, and beaten on the naked head, with a kind of
stick between a horse-rod and a cudgel, until his poor face got pale,
and he was forced to totter over to a seat in order to prevent himself
from fainting or falling in consequence of severe pain.

At length, however, the inhuman villain began to find, when it was too
late, that his ferocity, in spite of the terror which it occasioned, was
soon likely to empty his school. He now became as fawning and slavish as
he had before been insolent and savage; but the wealthy farmers of the
neighborhood, having now full cognizance of his conduct, made common
cause with the poorer men whose children were so shamefully treated, and
the result was, that in about six weeks they forced him to leave that
part of the country for want of scholars, having been literally groaned
out of it by the curses and indignation of all who knew him.

Here then was I once more at a loss for a school, and I must add, in no
disposition at all to renew my acquaintance with literature. Our family
had again removed from Nurchasy, to a place up nearer the mountains,
called Springtown, on the northern side of the parish. I was now
about fourteen, and began to feel a keen relish for all the sports and
amusements of the country, into which I entered with a spirit of youth
and enthusiasm rarely equalled. For about two years I attended no
school, but it was during this period that I received, notwithstanding,
the best part of my education. Our farm in Springtown was about sixteen
or eighteen acres, and I occasionally assisted the family in working at
it, but never regularly, for I was not called upon to do so, nor would I
have been permitted even had I wished it. It was about six months after
our removal to Springtown, that an incident in my early life occurred
which gave rise to one of the most popular tales perhaps, with the
exception of "The Miser," that I have written--that is "The Poor
Scholar." There being now no classical school within eighteen or twenty
miles of Springtown, it was suggested to ou