“He’s going to make a good teacher,” said one of the girls, “as good as any we’ve had, and he’s so young too.”

“He goes to work as if he knew how,” said another.  “I didn’t think Jimmy Garfield had so much in him.”

“Oh, he’s smart!” said another.  “Just think of brother Ben trying to keep school, and he’s just as old as James.”

Meanwhile Tom Bassett and Bill Stackpole had a private conference together.

“What do you think of Jim’s speech, Bill?” asked Tom.

“Oh, it sounded well enough, but I’ll bet he was trembling in his boots all the while he was talkin’.”

“Maybe so, but he seemed cool enough.”

“Oh, that was all put on.  Did you hear what he said about keepin’ order?”

“Yes, he kinder looked at you an’ me when he was talkin’.”

“I guess he heard about our turnin’ out the last teacher.”

“Of course.  I tell you, it took some cheek to come here and order ’round us boys that has known him all his life.”

“That’s so.  Do you think he’s goin’ to maintain order, as he calls it?”

“You just wait till afternoon.  He’ll know better then.”

James did not go out to recess the first day.  He had some things to do affecting the organization of the school, and so he remained at his desk.  Several of the pupils came up to consult him on one point or another, and he received them all with that pleasant manner which throughout his life was characteristic of him.  To one and another he gave a hint or a suggestion, based upon his knowledge of their character and abilities.  One of the boys said:  “Do you think I’d better study grammar, Jimmy—­I mean Mr. Garfield?”

James smiled.  He knew the slip was unintentional.  Of course it would not do for him to allow himself to be addressed in school by a pupil as Jimmy.

“Yes,” he answered, “unless you think you know all about it already.”

“I don’t know the first thing about it.”

“Then, of course, you ought to study it.  Why shouldn’t you?”

“But I can’t make nothin’ out of it.  I can’t understand it nohow.”

“Then you need somebody to explain it to you.”

“It’s awful stupid.”

“I don’t think you will find it so when you come to know more about it.  I shall be ready to explain it.  I think I can make you understand it.”

Another had a sum he could not do.  So James found the recess pass quickly away, and again the horde of scholars poured into the school-room.

It was not till afternoon that the conflict came.

Tom Bassett belonged to the first class in geography.

James called out the class.

All came out except Tom, who lounged carelessly in his seat.

“Thomas, don’t you belong to this class?” asked the young teacher.

“I reckon I do.”

“Then why don’t you come out to recite?”

“Oh, I feel lazy,” answered Tom, with a significant smile, as if to inquire, “What are you goin’ to do about it?”