f the neighboring
wells, and impartially distributed among the occupants of the
school-room, once during each successive hour of the day. The water was
to be passed about in the tin dipper, in an orderly manner, by some
member of the flock, properly appointed to that office, either on account
of general excellence or some particular mark of good behavior; though I
afterwards found it advisable not to insist on any qualifications of this
sort, but to elect the water-bearers merely according to their respective
rank in age. This really proved to be one of the most lively and
interesting exercises of the school, was always cheerfully undertaken,
executed in the most complete and faithful manner, and never on any
account forgotten or omitted.
I drank, and continued my lecture, but the first look of attractive
surprise never came back to the faces of my audience. They sought
diversion in a variety of ways, acquitting themselves throughout with a
commendable degree of patience until they found it necessary gently to
admonish me that it was time for recess.
After recess, as the result of deep meditation, in which I had concluded
that the mind of the Wallencamp youth was not yet prepared for the
introduction of new and advanced methods, I examined my pupils
preparatory to giving them lessons and arranging them in classes, in
the ordinary way. I found that they could not read, but they could write
in a truly fluent and unconventional style; they could not commit
prosaical facts to memory, but they could sing songs containing any
number of irrelevant stanzas. They could not "cipher," but they had
witty and salient answers ready for any emergency. There seemed to be no
particular distinction among them in regard to the degree of literary
attainment, so I arranged them in classes, with an eye mainly to the
novel and picturesque in appearance.
They were a little disappointed at the turn in affairs, having evidently
anticipated much from the continuation of the lecture system, yet they
were disposed to look forward to school-life, in any case, as not without
its ameliorating conditions.
CHAPTER III.
THE BEAUX OF WALLENCAMP PERFORM A GRAVE DUTY.
"We have our r'al, good, comfortin' meal at night," Grandma Keeler had
said, and the thought was uppermost in my mind at the close of my first
day's labor in Wallencamp. I had taken a walk to the beach; a strong east
wind had come up, and the surf was rolling in magnificen
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