g-school which I attend is under the charge of Ezekiel
Munroe, A.M. He is a man of about fifty, a graduate of Yale College,
and has always been a teacher. It is a large two-story house, with
an addition containing a good many small bed-chambers for the boys.
There are about twenty of us, and there is one assistant teacher who
teaches the English branches. Mr. Munroe, or Old Zeke, as we call
him behind his back, teaches Latin and Greek. I am studying both
these languages, because father wants me to go to college.

"But you won't be interested in hearing about our studies. I will
tell you how we amuse ourselves. There are about fifty acres of land
belonging to Mr. Munroe; so that we have plenty of room for play.
About a quarter of a mile from the house there is a good-sized pond.
There is a large, round-bottomed boat, which is stout and strong.
Every Wednesday and Saturday afternoon, when the weather is good, we
go out rowing on the pond. Mr. Barton, the assistant teacher, goes
with us, to look after us. In the summer we are allowed to go in
bathing. In the winter there is splendid skating on the pond.

"Besides this, we play ball a good deal, and we have various other
plays. So we have a pretty good time, although we study pretty hard
too. I am getting on very well in my studies. Father has not decided
yet where he will send me to college.

"I wish you were here, Dick. I should enjoy your company, and
besides I should like to feel that you were getting an education. I
think you are naturally a pretty smart boy; but I suppose, as you
have to earn your own living, you don't get much chance to learn. I
only wish I had a few hundred dollars of my own. I would have you
come up here, and attend school with us. If I ever have a chance to
help you in any way, you may be sure that I will.

"I shall have to wind up my letter now, as I have to hand in a
composition to-morrow, on the life and character of Washington. I
might say that I have a friend who wears a coat that once belonged
to the general. But I suppose that coat must be worn out by this
time. I don't much like writing compositions. I would a good deal
rather write letters.

"I have written a longer letter than I meant to. I hope you will get
it, though I am afraid not. If you do, you must be sure to answer
it, as soon as possible. You needn't mind if your writing does look
like 'hens-tracks,' as you told me once.

"Good-by, Dick. You must always think of me, as yo