CHAPTER III. "Contented wi' little, and cantie wi' mair, I gi'e them a skelp, as they're creepin' alang, * Wi' a cog o' guid swats, and an auld Scottish sang. Blind chance, let her snapper and stoyte on her way, My warst word is- Welcome, and welcome again." It is a beautiful capability that can make common events poetical, common things artistic, common affection and its manifestations romantic, and common duties lovely and pleasant to perform. This, more than any thing else outside the bare facts he imparted, did Mr. Winthrop endeavor to teach the little children. It had made his own life welcome and happy to himself, and it was the best bestowal he could leave them. There were habits and propensities, evil,-more than that,-extremely wicked, within the circle of the Log School House' influence, and he fought them with a persistency that was truly heroic. In those isolated settlements they almost always have an abiding place, probably because the social and intellectual facilities find little time for growth, and life becomes, from necessity, so poor in pleasures which are exalted. There was in the vicinity an old bachelor farmer, who owned a distillery and a horse-mill, where the settlers went to grind their grain, using their own horses to turn the wheel, and, in the mean time, they found it pleasant and convenient to take a glass of stimulant, and so the strange fascination for the distiller's burning beverage grew upon them till it was past resistance. Abel Winthrop was one of his victims, and the growing sin lay like a heavy weight of sorrow upon his brother. His eldest son, Robert, would sometimes enter the school-room with a consciousness of his father's danger written in lines of pain, and intense childish mortification at the stain upon the household. He used to get close to his uncle's chair, and lean his hot forehead upon the arm he knew was strong to do good, as if he could there get courage to meet whatever fate had in reservation for him. Then the noble boy would look toward his little sisters, and rise up feeling as if he could and would brave any thing for them. Susie and Lottie Winthrop were sweet, quiet children, and Henry was a hardy, willful little fellow, with the noblest of impulses, but one of those peculiarly restless natures which give so much maternal solicitude, and poor Robert knew and felt all this, but he thought if his uncle Nelson would only watch him, all would go well with him. And so with such elements the first winter wound its days into the circle of the year, and there came gatherings for older people under its roof. There were spelling schools for a mingling of merriment and culture. Bashful grown up boys and girls who had secured a little of each of the three R's before they "took up land" in the West, looked across from bench to bench at each other, by the gleam of the rousing firelight, and the two weakly tallow candles which were supported in little blocks by inch. auger holes in the centre, and kept weeping oily tears until the last best speller was obliged by failure to sit down vanquished. There were two young men, generally solicited by the master, to choose sides, and the two so honored took each a seat on either side of the mammoth fire-place, by the long writing desks, facing each other, with the power of calling to their side of the room, alternately, the one they pleased of the unappropriated and eager youngsters. The master's rod, like Aaron's, had a power in turning wondrous events in favor of or against the "captains" who appealed to it in times of verbal war. The "first choice" was awarded to the one who would be so fortunate as to get the upper hand twice out of three times in tossing up and measuring the rod, hand over hand, to the switch end. Now it so happened that these favored young gents invariably invited the girl they liked best, without any regard to the success of their party, to sit beside them; and after this was accomplished, scholarship was honored most. If the two leaders happened to be rivals, as was sometimes the case, there was a sad reluctance manifest in tossing the rod, and the discomfited bore with but little equanimity his defeat; and pretty nearly always there was a trial of strength, and courage, and muscle, at the first opportunity. If the young lady whose name was uttered did not choose to sit beside the young man, etiquette had established a law that she should not spell a word that night, and but few had the courage to manifest so pal pable a regard for the young man disappointed in the first choice. After the occupants of the house were divided, one against the other, the master gave out the hardest words he could find, first to one side and then to the other, and the party who missed lost the best scholar, and so on, until the one side gained the whole, and then there was a general shout for the victor. Sometimes the entire school rose up in their seats, and words were given them, which, if missed, the spellers were requested to seat themselves, as a signal of defeat, until there were none left standing, the last up being the champion of the district. About mid-winter, a Scotchman came among them and bought a few acres of land adjoining the homestead of Nelson Winthrop; and as was usual, the whole community came forward to assist in the erection of a dwelling. Presently the family came, and a host of young Scots there were, too. It was astonishing to contemplate their sleeping chances in that small log cabin; and as to eating, it filled a humane mind with the most uncomfortable apprehensions. But they were stout, happy looking little Highlanders, and their broad brogue was a never ending source of amusement to the older settlers, as were the feline sounds of the ow's and an's to the emigrants. The hope of the new house, Sandy McLain, was a sturdy little fellow, with a large brain whose machinery would take an immense amount of propelling power to start into working order, but it would be marvelous in its capabilities and endurance when once moving. Often, and often, the assembled school would be convulsed by his curious eyes becoming walled with endeavoring to comprehend his teacher's explanations, and then exclaiming in an intensely pitiful tone : "Awcel, aweel! I'm daft an' dinna ken !" Mr. Winthrop saw that he would "ken" by and by, and felt a prophetic stimulant in his own soul, which kept him to his task of starting. It is wonderful that we all feel so little awe for a child! We can not see beyond their present, nor imagine what they may be to us, and to the world hereafter. The strings upon which a teacher plays, will vibrate for ever, and throw out discord or harmony, according to the tone given to them, to bless or torment our souls here, and also in the vailed beyond. Sandy began at the rudiments. Indeed, he started with Peter Dally, and he ranged very little above his companion in the estimation of his school-fellows. True, he was not repulsive in his looks, but he was droll, and had a broad, corrugated forehead, and eyes shadowed by unusual perceptive faculties, which were in a torpid state awaiting the touch of master Winthrop. So at last the winter wore away, and the school was scattered among the rural homes for a couple of months; and though the separation was with many tears on the part of some, and howlings, which were almost absurd in their intensity, from poor Peter, yet the spring sunshine brought a balm for all,-a promise of something sweet to each young soul,-though they could not have found words to tell what it might be, or what they would have if they could choose. Benny Rollin felt keener than any the sorrow of parting, for it had been the one fond pleasure of a life-time, after all the sorrows he had borne. Now for toil and |