n the letter of the parish priest, and the curate was but a
curate--no formidable personage in any church where the good-will of the
rector has not been already secured.

Jemmy returned that day to his lodgings, and the next morning, with his
Latin Grammar under his arm, he went to school to taste the first bitter
fruits of the tree of knowledge.

On entering it, which he did with a beating heart, he found the despot
of a hundred subjects sitting behind a desk, with his hat on, a brow
superciliously severe, and his nose crimped into a most cutting and
vinegar curl. The truth was, the master knew the character of the
curate, and felt that because he had taken Jemmy under his protection,
no opportunity remained for him of fleecing the boy, under the pretence
of securing his money, and that consequently the arrival of the poor
scholar would be no windfall, as he had expected.

When Jemmy entered, he looked first at the master for his welcome; but
the master, who verified the proverb, that there are none so blind as
those who will not see, took no notice whatsoever of him. The boy then
looked timidly about the school in quest of a friendly face, and indeed
few faces except friendly ones were turned upon him.

Several of the scholars rose up simultaneously to speak to him; but
the pedagogue angrily inquired why they had left their seats and their
business.

"Why, sir," said a young Munsterman, with a fine Milesian face--"be
gorra, sir, I believe if we don't welcome the poor scholar, I think you
won't. This is the boy, sir, that Mr. O'Brien came along wid yistherday,
an' spoke so well of."

"I know that, Thady; and Misther O'Brien thinks, because he himself
first passed through that overgrown hedge-school wid slates upon the
roof of it, called Thrinity College, and matriculated in Maynooth
afther, that he has legal authority to recommend every young vagrant to
the gratuitous benefits of legitimate classicality. An' I suppose, that
you are acting the Pathrun, too, Thady, and intind to take this young
wild-goose under your protection?"

"Why, sir, isn't he a poor scholar? Sure he mustn't want his bit an'
sup, nor his night's lodgin', anyhow. You're to give him his larnin'
only, sir."

"I suppose so, Mr. Thaddeus; but this is the penalty of celebrity. If I
weren't so celebrated a man for classics as I am, I would have none of
this work. I tell you, Thady, if I had fifty sons I wouldn't make one o'
them celebrated."