oxen, the qualities of his cows, the breed of his horses and colts, and his mode of tending and rearing each, and the profits he respectively derived from them. After this, Amsden took his guest to a little elevation near the barn, and directed his attention to the different portions of his farm, describing the uses to which the various fields in view were devoted, and dwelling on the advantages which, as a whole, the farm possessed over those that surrounded it.

"It is a good farm, evidently," responded the stranger, "and as evidently well conducted. But yonder is your sugarorchard, I think you said: I should be pleased to see your manner of managing that also."

"Well, I have as good a sugar-place as any body else in all these parts," replied Amsden; "but I can't say much for its management, as, considering sugar-making no great object further than for the supply of my family, I have, late years, left it almost wholly to the boys, who are allowed to carry on pretty much as they please. However, we will walk out there, and see what is going on, since you have named it.”

it

A short walk brought them to the border of the forest, where a body of three or four hundred straight, tall, and thrifty rock-maple trees, standing on an area of about five acres, composed the sugar-place. The tops of the trees were gently swaying to a moderate west wind; and the sap, as usual in a wind from that quarter, with the required freeze of the preceding night, was dropping freely, and with pulselike regularity, from the spouts at the incisions, into the cleanly looking tubs placed beneath to receive the pure and flavorous liquid. Taking a path leading to a central part of the sugar-lot, Amsden and his guest soon came in sight of the boiling-place, as indicated by the cloud of mingled smoke and steam which rose from the seething kettles and the hot fires beneath them. The farmer, now espying some tubs at a short distance from the path, that needed adjusting on their

sinking foundations of snow, stepped aside, bidding the other go on; and the latter accordingly proceeded, with a leisurely. step, alone towards the boiling-place. On arriving within a rod or two of the spot, he paused, and looked around for the one in superintendence; when his eye soon fell on the person of a boy of about sixteen, lying on some straw at the mouth of the shantee, which opened towards the row of boiling kettles in front. The lad had a ciphering slate, and a large, old, cover-worn volume spread before him; and upon this he was so absorbingly engaged, that neither the sight or sound of his approaching visitor appeared to make the least impression on his senses. Hesitating to disturb one evidently so little expecting it, the stranger stood a moment, now looking around for the absent farmer, and now glancing with an air of interest and surprised curiosity at the picturesque attitude, shapely limbs, and finely-turned head of the boy; who, with bosom thrown open, hat cast aside, the fingers of one hand twisted in his curly, raven hair, and those of the other grasping the nimbly-plying pencil, was thus engaged in an employment so little looked for by the other on a common farm, and least of all in the woods. The gentleman was not allowed, however, much time for his musing upon so unusual a spectacle; for, the next moment, our little student of the woods leaped suddenly upon his feet, and, with the exulting shout of Archimedes of old, exclaimed aloud, "I have done it! I have done it!" adding, as he turned back and shook his fist at the book, “now, Old Pike, just show me another sum that I can't do, will you? you are conquered, sir!”

Having thus delivered himself, the boy turned round, when, his eyes for the first time falling upon the stranger, he instantly dropped his head, and stood covered with shame and confusion.

"Locke!" exclaimed the farmer, emerging, at this juncture, from the bushes on the opposite side of the fire, and going

THE SCHOOLMASTER.

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up and peering into the steaming kettles, "why, Locke, what have you been about? This smallest kettle has boiled down into sugar, and is burning up, dirt, settlings, and all together! Where on earth," he petulantly continued, hastily swinging off the kettle, "where on earth can have been the boy's eyes and wits, to stand by and let ten or a dozen pounds of sugar spoil for want of putting in a little sap! What is the meaning of it? What is the case? Zounds, sir, why don't you speak?"

But the now doubly confused object of this tirade of the provoked farmer, was unable to utter one word in extenuation of his delinquency; and, after one or two ineffectual attempts to speak, sunk down on a log, and hid his burning face with his hands. At once appreciating the feelings of the boy, and touched at the sensibilities he exhibited under the mingled emotions arising from wounded delicacy and conscious fault, the stranger immediately interposed, by observing, as he pointed to the slate and arithmetic still lying where the owner had used them,

"Your boy is a mathematician, I perceive, sir; and yonder is the innocent cause, and at the same time the excuse for his oversight, as I have reason to suspect."

"Yes, yes, I'll warrant it," replied Amsden pettishly, "it's just like him. His head is always so full of ciphering questions, grammar puzzles, and all sorts of bookish wrinkles, that there is no room for any thing else; and I can scarcely trust him to manage the most simple business, he is often so absent-minded and blundering."

"And yet,” rejoined the other, "I should feel proud of his faults, while they sprang only from such causes, if I was his father. Come, come, my lad," he continued, turning and soothingly addressing the boy, "cheer up; you have committed no very serious offence, I suspect. At all events, I will venture to take the sugar which your father thinks is

2

spoil. d off his hands, and pay full price for it, to give to my little girl down at the house. She is very fond of the maple sweet, I believe."

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Pay for it? - buy it? No, you sha'nt, unless you really want to buy some for yourself, and then you should have some better than this," quickly interposed the father, taken wholly aback by this unexpected proposition and course of the stranger; "no, indeed, sir. Why, it is all nothing. I was only a little vexed at the boy's carelessness, that's all. I care nothing about the sugar, even if it had been burnt up, as it is not, I presume. But we will now see. And at any rate, the little girl shall have as much sugar as she wants, without paying for it either. Locke, bring us a clean tub to turn it into, and we will see what can be done with it."

"You are quite mistaken about the quantity of what might be made of all that is in that kettle, father," said the boy, now brightening up, and bringing the receptacle asked for; "I took the syrup from the kettle but a few hours ago, and, gathering a few pails of the clearest sap I could find, and straining it, I filled up anew, thinking I would boil down a few pounds as nice as I could for brag-sugar."

"Well, it does look pretty clear, and it is not done down to sugar yet, I see. I was deceived by there being so little of it," remarked the father, in a moderated tone, as he turned off into the tub the rich, red fluid, which, after all, had only boiled down to the consistency of a very thin molasses. “O, yes, this may be brought to something quite decent. Have you any milk or eggs for cleansing, Locke?"

"Yes, sir, both."

"Well, then, beat up the white of an egg, and add a little milk, if you please; and by the time you have prepared the mixture, I will have the syrup cool enough for clarifying. We may as well finish it now, perhaps."

In a few moments, the liquid was sufficiently cooled, the

mixture stirred in, and the whole placed in the kettle over a small fire, before which the farmer, with skimmer in hand, took his station, to be ready for the process of cleansing. The liquor, beginning almost instantly to feel the heat, at first gave out a sharp, singing sound, which, as the greenishgray cloud of impurities rapidly rose and gathered in a thick, mantling coat over the surface, gradually changed into a low, stifled roar, growing more bass and indistinct, till it suddenly ceased with the first bubble that rose to the disrupturing surface. The feculent coat, thus collected and broken, was then quickly skimmed off, leaving the pure and brightly contrasting liquid to rise, as the next instant it did, with diffusing ebulitions, to the top of the kettle in a fleckered mass of yellow foam, resembling some fantastic fret-work of gold.

While the father stood over the kettle rapidly plying his skimmer to prevent the contents from boiling over, the stranger turned to the son, and entered into conversation with him, with the apparent object of drawing him out; asking him many questions relative to his studies, and often manifesting both interest and surprise at the answers which were promptly returned.

"Your son bears the name of a great and learned man,” observed the gentleman, turning at length to the father. "Do you intend he shall try to rival his namesake in knowledge and fame ?”

"Don't know any thing about that. But you are wandering considerable further than you need to for his name. He got that from his mother: her maiden name was Locke." "O, ho! But don't you think of giving him an education ? "

"Education? why I am giving him one. district school regularly every winter."

"I meant a public education.”

He attends our