as usual, was pouring forth a
stream of mere words--words almost devoid of thought, lulled a large
number of my fifteen hundred boys and girls into the land of dreams.

As soon as the services were over and I had surrendered my flock to
the yard master, I was summoned before the superintendent where the
pious chaplain accused me of insulting him by not keeping the children
awake. I quietly asked him how this could be done. "Go among them with
a rattan," said he. I told him I thought the preacher deserved the
rattan much more than the children, that they would listen gladly if
he would give them anything worth hearing. From that moment he was my
malicious foe.

One day while returning from a row in the harbor, I treated my
boat's crew to apples and pears from our orchard; just then the
superintendent's whistle sounded, and I was called before the trustees
then in session.

"Are you aware," said he, savagely, "that the rules direct that all
fruit shall be gathered by the head gardener, and by him alone?"

"Yes," was my reply.

"Well, then, you were stealing, just now."

"I was simply imitating your example, sir; it takes a thief to catch a
thief." The trustees roared with laughter. The president of the board
then asked if I had seen others stealing the fruit.

"Yes, sir, the chaplain, superintendent, and nearly all the trustees."

"Well," said he, "this is a den of thieves."

"All except the convicts, sir," I replied.

These incidents did not add to my popularity among the sneaks whose
petty slings and arrows were so annoying, and so minimized my power
for good that I reluctantly resigned, to accept a more lucrative
position as teacher in an aristocratic boarding-school located in the
romantic county of Berkshire, much nearer, geographically, to the
stars.

Among our responsibilities at the reform school, were many "wharf
rats"--so called, because having had no homes or visible parents, like
Topsy, they had simply "growed," and slept under the wharves of the
city, swarming out at intervals to steal or beg for something to
assuage the pangs of hunger. They were vicious to a degree, and at
first seemed to prefer a raw shin-bone that they had stolen to an
abundant meal obtained honestly. They would rather fight than eat, and
prized a penny obtained by lies more than dollars secured by telling
the truth. Some were stupid as donkeys; but others possessed minds of
surprising acuteness. I once asked one of these wh