Stuart_ being "i' the bond," was anxiously expected by the impatient
crowd, and it was with distress amounting to agony that the master was
obliged to announce, in person, the necessity of omitting that part of
the representation, on account of the illness of one of the young
ladies.

Scarcely had the words been uttered, and the speaker hidden his
burning face behind the curtain, when Mr. Kingsbury started up in his
place amid the throng, to give a public recital of his grievance--no
uncommon resort in the new country. He dashed at once to the point;
and before some friends who saw the utter impropriety of his
proceeding could persuade him to defer his vengeance, he had laid
before the assembly--some three hundred people, perhaps--his own
statement of the case. He was got out at last, half coaxed, half
hustled; and the gentle public only half understanding what had been
set forth thus unexpectedly, made quite a pretty row of it. Some
clamored loudly for the conclusion of the exercises; others gave
utterances in no particularly choice terms to a variety of opinions as
to the schoolmaster's proceedings, varying the note occasionally by
shouting, "The letters! the letters! why don't you bring out the
letters?"

At length, by means of much rapping on the desk by the president of
the evening, who was fortunately a "popular" character, order was
partially restored; and the favorite scene from Miss More's dialogue
of David and Goliath was announced as the closing piece. The sight of
little David in a white tunic edged with red tape, with a calico scrip
and a very primitive-looking sling; and a huge Goliath decorated with
a militia belt and sword, and a spear like a weaver's beam indeed,
enchained everybody's attention. Even the peccant schoolmaster and his