school section was sometimes not sufficient to defray the salary of the teacher, and then the deficiency was supplied by the parents of the children who had attended at the school; those citizens whose children did not attend were not taxed by the State for the Common Schools; they did not pay for that which they did not receive.  In some instances only one school was maintained by the revenue of two school sections.  When the attendance in the school was numerous, a young lady, called the “school-marm,” assisted in the teaching.  Sometimes, as in the case of Miss Priscilla, she fell into trouble.

The books were provided by the enterprise of private citizens, and an occasional change of “Readers” was agreeable both to teachers and scholars.  The best of old stories grow tiresome when repeated too often.  One day a traveller from Cincinnati brought me samples of a new series of “Readers,” offering on my approval, to substitute next day a new volume for every old one produced.  I approved, and he presented each scholar with copies of the new series for nothing.

The teaching was secular, but certain virtues were inculcated either directly or indirectly.  Truth and patriotism were recommended by the example of George Washington, who never told a lie, and who won with his sword the freedom of his country.  There were lessons on history, in which the tyranny of the English Government was denounced; Kings, Lords and Bishops, especially Bishop Laud, were held up to eternal abhorrence; as was also England’s greed of gain, her intolerance, bigotry, taxation; her penal and navigation laws.  The glorious War of Independence was related at length.  The children of the Puritans, of the Irish and the Germans, did not in those days imbibe much prejudice in favour of England or her institutions, and the English teacher desirous of arriving at the truth, had the advantage of having heard both sides of many historical questions; of listening, as it were, to the scream of the American eagle, as well as to the roar of the British lion.

Mr. Curtis was a good teacher, systematic, patient, persevering, and ingenious.  I ceased to hate him; Miss Priscilla’s downfall cemented our friendship.  We kept order in the school by moral suasion, but the task was sometimes difficult.  My private feelings were in favour of the occasional use of the hickory stick, the American substitute for the rod of Solomon, and the birch of England.

The geography we taught was principally that of the United States and her territories, spacious maps of which were suspended round the school, continually reminding the scholars of their glorious inheritance.  It was then full of vacant lots, over which roamed the Indian and the buffalo, species of animals now nearly extinct.  We did not pay much attention to the rest of the world.

Elocution was inculcated assiduously, and at regular intervals each boy and girl had to come forth and “speak a piece” in the presence of the scholars, teachers, and visitors.