raised, the vacant faces would brighten, and the little cramped legs
would be stretched out with a sigh of relief. And then the Dominie
would read them something that was not only instructive, but very
entertaining. Sometimes, instead of reading to them, he would set them
to declaiming or reciting poetry, or they would choose sides and have
a spelling match. They would get so interested that they would forget
all about the birds and sunshine without. They did not even know that
they were learning all this time.

For the Dominie had all sorts of pleasant ways of teaching his
scholars. Not but what they had to work hard too, for nobody can
accomplish anything worth having without putting a good deal of hard
work in it.

You see the Dominie's portrait in the picture. The fringe of hair
around his bald head was as white as snow; his black eyes were bright
and merry; and he had a kindly face. His name was Morris Harvey, but
everybody called him Dominie, and he liked that name best. All the
village people respected and loved the old man; and every child in the
village school that he taught, from the largest boy, whose legs were
so long that he did not know what to do with them, down to Bessie
Gay, who could scarcely reach up to the top of a desk, were very fond
indeed of him.

But even under the Dominie's kindly rule, "School's out!" was always a
welcome sound. What a noise there would be in the school-room for a
minute; and then such a grand rush out into the open air! and such
merry shouts! The Dominie would look after them with a smile. He
wanted them to study, but he was glad that it was natural for them to
love to play.