me out of the school. He
held out his hand, and I took it, but reluctantly, and under secret
protest. I thought to myself, "This mine enemy has an axe to grind,
or he would not be here. I'll be on my guard."

"I have been waiting for you some time," said Mr. Curtis. "I was
told you were splitting rails in the forest, and would be home about
sundown. I wanted to see you about opening school again. Mr. Rogers
won't have anything to say to it, but the other two managers, Mr.
Strong and Mr. Demmond, want to engage you and me, one to teach in
the upper storey of the school, the other down below, and I came up
to ask you to see them about it."

"How does it happen that Mr. Sellars has not come over from Dresden?"
I said.

"Joliet is about the last place on this earth that Mr. Sellars will
come to. Didn't you hear about him and Priscilla?" asked Mr. Curtis.

"No, I heard nothing since that meeting; only saw the school doors
were closed every time I passed that way."

"Well, I am surprised. I thought everybody knew by this time, though
we did not like to say much about it."

I began to feel interested. Mr. Curtis had something pleasant to
tell me about the misfortunes of my enemies, so I listened
attentively.

It was a tale of western love, and its course was no smoother in
Illinois than in any less enlightened country of old Europe. Miss
Priscilla reckoned she could hoe her own row. She and Mr. Sellars
conducted the Common School at Dresden with great success and
harmony. All went merry as a marriage bell, and the marriage was to
come off by-and-by--so hoped Miss Priscilla. During the recess she
took the teacher's arm, and they walked to and fro lovingly. All
Dresden said it was to be a match, but at the end of the term Miss
Priscilla returned to Joliet--the match was not yet made.

It was at this time that the dissatisfaction with the new British
teacher became extreme; Miss Priscilla fanned the flame of
discontent. She did not "let concealment like a worm i' th' bud feed
on her damask cheek," but boldly proposed that Mr. Sellars--a
true-born native of New England, a good young man, always seen at
meetings on the Sabbath--should be requested to take charge of the
West Joliet school. So the meeting was held: I was voted out, Mr.
Sellars was voted in, and the daughters of the Puritans triumphed.

Miss Priscilla wrote to Dresden, announcing to her beloved the
success of her diplomacy, requesting hi