vented his rising, while he rapidly separated him from the vehicle; all the while shouting to Carl to take care of the women. It seemed a most dangerous position for a man no stronger than Barry; but he succeeded in separating the horse, which he took out and made fast to a neighbouring post, and afterwards repaired to the green bank where Carl had deposited his charge. One of the women was unhurt, the other was bruised and bleeding, and shortly the young farmer, who had been thrown from his seat, came up, more frightened than hurt, and full of apprehension about his wife and sister.

As they resumed their walk, Carl said to himself, "One thing is certain, whatever the fellows may say, Mr. Barry is far from being a coward: I shall tell this to Mack and Merriman, the next time they utter such a slander on our usher."

d

CHAPTER III.

WHAT MAKES THE HAPPY TEACHER?

To those who love it, teaching is as full of interest as hunting to the huntsman, or flowers to the gardener. Why should it not be as interesting to contemplate different kinds of boys as different kinds of minerals and plants? Why should we not examine the ways and habits of girls, as eagerly as those of fish, fowl, and insects? Next to parents, the persons who get the clearest insight into children and youth are teachers. Some of these only teach for a living; it is a drudgery to them; they mean presently to leave it and go to something else: how can such persons be happy teachers? Others love their work, and ask no better employment. Hence, they always meet their pupils with a smile, and hear every lesson with animation. The scholars, in their

turn, see this, and are all alive; teacher and scholar pull together, and there is more progress made in a week than at one of the drudging schools in a month.

"What!" exclaimed Miss Hotchkin, who was on a visit at the Oaks,-"What! take pleasure in teaching such a set of uncombed colts as those yonder!" And she pointed with her parasol to the green, over which the boys, just dismissed for their nooning, were bounding and shouting. "The thing is impossible, Mr. Barry."

"I dare say, you think so," replied Barry; "yet, I say what I think and feel. It is a positive pleasure to me to be their teacher. And, then, allow me to speak a word for the young fellows. They are now in their summer trim and school-jackets, and you see them just at the moment of release; but some of them are already gentlemen, in every sense of the word, and several of them are already scholars."

"But such a noise, Mr. Barry! And such violence!"

"Noise, madam, is not always amiss. In a sick room, at a funeral, during worship or study, noise would be altogether out of place. But what say you to the noise of a mill or a cascade? And what say you to a pack of hounds, a parrot, or an aviary? It is as much the nature of growing boys to exert their limbs and lungs as for young kids to do the same. It is healthful, it is unavoidable, and to me it is agreeable."

"Oh, sir, you shock me! Had I boys under my charge, they should never be allowed to bellow like those fellows,-nor".

"Nor," said Barry, smiling, "to have a torn coat, or a speck on their shoes; all should be starch and rose-water. It is not in this planet, however, Miss Hotchkin, that your ideal seminary can be conducted. The earth will soil, cloth will wear, and youthful spirits will break over the brim: our great task is to keep matters within bounds, and to prevent ill words and ill tempers."

"Can you ever persuade me, sir, that those

vehement fellows, who are now so busy in saddling yonder calf, are fit for study?"

"Among the first boys in the school," replied Barry, "and among the best in every sense. You now see them full of spirit and fun; you will presently see them silent, collected, and studious, as eager to master a difficulty in algebra or grammar as yesterday they were to win at a rowing-match."

"You amaze me! I thought play and study were exact opposites."

"So they are; but the charm of life is made up of these delightful opposites. It is the transition from hilarity to seriousness which gives a zest to school-boy life, never to be forgotten. I sometimes think we Americans might gain something by carrying the same a little farther into life. It might prevent some wrinkles and gray hairs, even though it should interrupt us a little in our race after money or office.'

"So you let them do as they please?" "By no means, madam ! You see they are