walls were "chinked" with buckeye sticks,
and the cracks daubed with clay, and a barrel, with both ends knocked
out, finished off the chimney. His father had emigrated from
Pennsylvania, and was what they call in that country a "poor manager." He
never got on well, but eked out a living by doing day's works, and
hunting and fishing. But Samuel's mother was a woman of education, and
had just given him a good start, when she died. He was then but eight
years of age. A few months later his father died of a congestive chill,
and little Sammy was thrown on the world. He was indentured to old Squire
Higgins. The Squire was a hard master; and in those days a bound boy was
not much better off than a slave, any how. Up early in the morning "doing
chores," running all day, and bringing the cows from the pasture in the
evening, he was kept always busy. The terms of his indenture obligated
the Squire to send him to school three months in the winter; and it was a
delightful time to him when he took his seat on the backless benches of
the old log school-house, with its one window, and that a long, low one,
and its wide old fireplace. He learned to "read, write, and cypher" very
fast. And in the summer time, when he was employed in throwing clods off
the corn after the plough, he had only to go once across the field while
the plough went twice. By hurrying, he could get considerable time to
wait at each alternate row. This time he spent in studying. He hid away
his book in the fence-corner, and by concealing himself a few minutes in
the weeds while he waited for the plough, he could manage to learn
something in a day.

After he grew larger the Squire failed to send him to school. When asked
about it, he said, "Wal, I 'low he knows a good deal more'n I do now, an'
'taint no sort o' use to learn so much. Spiles a boy to fill him chock
full." But Sammy was bent on learning, any how; and in the long winter
mornings, before day, he used to study hard at such books as he could
get.

"I never seed sich a chap," old Mrs. Higgins would say. "He got a invite
to a party last week, and my old man tole him as how he mout go; but,
d'ye b'lieve it? he jist sot right down thar, in that air chimney-corner,
and didn't do nothin' but steddy an' steddy all the whole blessed time,
while all the other youngsters wuz a frolickin'. It beats me all holler."

But the next winter poor Sam had a hard time of it. The new
school-master, who was hired because he