could master. We could repeat the "rules," but we could not
"parse;" we could cipher, but our sums would not "prove;" we
could rattle off the productions of Italy--"corn, wine, silk and
oil"--but we could not "bound" the State in which we lived. We
were conscious of these defects, and deplored them. Our teachers
were also conscious of them, and flogged us! We had a morbid
dread of corporeal punishment, and strove to the uttermost to
avoid it; but it made no difference, it came all the same--came
as surely and swiftly to us as to the bad boys who played
"hookey," the worse boys who fought, and the worst boy who once
stoned his master in the street. With such a school record as
this, is it to be wondered at that we rejoiced when school was
out? And rejoiced still more when we were out of school?

The feeling which we had then appears to be shared by the
children in our illustration. Not for the same reasons, however;
for we question whether the most ignorant of their number does
not know more of grammar than we do to-day, and is not better
acquainted with the boundaries of Germany than we could ever
force ourselves to be. We like these little fellows for what they
are, and what they will probably be. And we like their master, a
grave, simple-hearted man, whose proper place would appear to be
the parish-pulpit. What his scholars learn will be worth knowing,
if it be not very profound. They will learn probity and goodness,
and it will not be ferruled into them either. Clearly, they do
not fear the master, or they would not be so unconstrained in his
presence. They would not make snow balls, as one has done, and
another is doing. Soon they will begin to pelt each other, and
the passers by will not mind the snow balls, if they will only
remember how they themselves felt, and behaved, after coming out