The new master’s manner was such a decided contrast to that of his “knock down and drag out” predecessor, that it captivated his proteges at the start, and this was the only unpleasant episode in my delightful intercourse with these charming children.

I established a society called the “Class of Honor,” which soon comprised my entire family.  Every pupil who had no marks against him or her for failures in scholarship or deportment, was decorated with a blue ribbon, and when he had earned and worn this for one month, he was presented with a handsome diamond shaped pin on which was engraved the words “class of honor.”  They were prouder of this decoration than ever were the imperial guard of Napoleon of the Cross of the Legion.

If a pupil failed on some point in recitation, he could retrieve himself by reciting it correctly later with extra information on the point, gathered from the reference books, and thus he was saved from humiliation and discouragement, and at the same time, he was stimulated to making independent researches in the school and public libraries.  Each class of honor pupil could whisper, go out, or go to the blackboards to draw or cipher without asking permission.  The high sense of honor was thus developed which is so essential to a successful career.

We had a system of light gymnastics which, with military drill, gave grace and erectness to the carriage, and every Friday afternoon, the large hall was crowded with the parents to enjoy the singing, declamations, gymnastics, dramatics, and drawing exercises, and all went merry as a marriage bell.

My salary was raised voluntarily every six months; I enjoyed their games with them in our ample playgrounds.  We often, on holidays, roamed the woods and seashore together; I often dined with them in their homes, and at picnics; on all public occasions I was one of the principal speakers, and my life was an ideal one in all respects save one.  For some cause the air of the valley, too often impregnated with moisture from the sluggish Abajona, kept my throat in an almost chronic state of irritation, and too frequently for days at a time, I could hardly speak above a whisper.  Had it not been for this one serious handicap, I think I would gladly have remained there for life.

I kept a saddle horse, and often cantered twenty miles to my father’s house, and my boat on the lake furnished many a pleasant sail for myself and pupils.

One incident shows the appreciation of my pupils and neighbors for my efforts in their behalf.  During the first campaign of General Grant for the presidency, many of my pupils and I joined the W—­Battalion of uniformed and torch bearing “Tanners.”  We marched to the city as an escort for speakers at a Republican rally.  When the hoodlums smashed our lanterns with rocks, our captain, the son of a distinguished statesman, retreated; but I lost my head and charged the rioters, using my torch handle vigorously; I was cut off from my company of which I was lieutenant, and captured by the Democrats.  As soon as my men realized this, they rushed upon my captors en masse; many heads were broken, but I was rescued and carried to the train on the shoulders of my heroic defenders.