re needless,--everything so far has gone with surprising
smoothness, confirming my theory that in an atmosphere of love and
gentleness the martial traits will be atrophied.

To-day things were more tumultuous, Saturday being combined
wash-and-cleaning-day at the school, and a hard time for all hands. Ten
of the girls came over from the big house to our back yard, and there,
assisted by one of my boys, who kept up fires under the big kettles and
carried water from the well, did the washing for the entire school;
while in every building on the place cleaning, scrubbing and
window-washing were in full blast. I was sorry to have to punish little
Hen to-night for calling it a "hell of a day."

IV

WAR, NOT PEACE

_Monday Noon._

Yesterday morning I accompanied my boys to Sunday-school in the village.
They showed a good deal of restlessness before the service was
over,--not surprising considering that only two had ever heard of a
Sunday-school before.

After dinner I undertook to cheer and entertain them by reading Robinson
Crusoe, out in our yard, beginning in the thick of the story, where the
hero is in sight of his island. What was my chagrin to see one pair
after another of bright, roving eyes dull and close, one head after
another roll over in the grass, Nucky Marrs holding out longest, and
murmuring wearily, as his head settled back against a tree, "Didn't he
never get into no fights, or kill nobody?"

Discouraged, I sat for a long while gazing upon the twelve sleepers, and
wondering what if anything would be the proper literary milk for my
babes.

[Illustration: "I sat wondering what if anything would be the proper
literary milk for my babes."]

When the boys at last awoke from their naps, I gave them permission to
play mumble-peg very, very quietly--the heads had told me to keep them
quiet on Sundays--and they made a desperate effort to do so. But
probably behavior so far had been impossibly good, and this was the last
straw. At any rate, when we were gathered in the sitting-room after
supper for ten minutes of Sunday-school lesson, the storm broke. Nucky
kicked Killis on the shin; Killis called him a smotch-eyed polecat; the
two grappled; Philip flew to Nucky's assistance, Joab to Killis's;
Keats, Hen and Moses rushed in on the Marrs side, Taulbee, Zachariah and
Iry on the Blair, little Jason flew joyously into the fray,
impartially attacking both sides, and Geordie prudently retired under
t