spinning when their children were at school; and expressed her confidence in the capability of her poor blind friend, and advised her to commence as soon as possible. However, in a few days the forms were ordered, and Miss Meadows went to a distant town to buy elementary books, and Judith entered on her new career as village schoolmistress.

CHAPTER XII.

COMMENCES SCHOOL, ETC.

It is not surprising that the villagers were incredulous when the pastor told them that the soldier's wife was going to open a school; they had heard that blind Jack of Knaresborough was a wonderful man, and could do many things better than those who could see, but he never kept a school. The schoolmaster ridiculed the idea; he said it was as much as he could do, although he had two eyes, and silver-framed spectacles to boot. But when Spinks, the carpenter, took the forms across the green, peopled marvelled when they saw it was a reality. The pastor mentioned it at church on Sunday morning, and prayed for a blessing on the efforts of the blind stranger, and on Monday morning his daughter was seen making her way to the cottage on the green, an hour or two earlier than visiting hours, and the linen weaver, with a child on his back, and one or two others holding by the skirts of his coat, was seen entering the dwelling. The weaver was a zealous advocate for Judith. The shoemaker and others soon followed his example, and in a few weeks the school might be said to be established. The teacher's memory seemed to open out its old stores just when they were needed a merciful provision which Providence sometimes makes when we suffer particular calamity. She committed the small elementary books to memory with

out much effort, by hearing Miss Meadows read them; she exercised a wonderful influence over the minds of the children; they understood that she was something beyond the common order of mortals, and they loved her because she was gentle and kind; her voice did not vibrate so harshly as that of their irritable mothers at home; there was no severity of manner which generally renders discipline disagreeable, yet there were punishments, and it was soon found to be a fearful thing to offend. The writer remembers being pinned to her apron, and on a more serious occasion being tied to the back of her chair with a piece of string. As there was no other dame school in the village, Judith's services were so apparent that it was found necessary to have her room enlarged. We should in these days call it an infant school, and her manner of instruction might bear some comparison to the present method. The elder girls brought their knitting and sewing, and received instruction in reading, spelling, and mental arithmetic (a plan quite her own), and her lessons were illustrative and pleasing; her memory was so fertile, that she anticipated the words, when a child was endeavouring to make out a sentence, and would describe the form of a vowel or consonant to the little ones. Her labours were soon rewarded by being enabled to cast off the parish pittance, and she lost that despondency of mind which dependence generally creates in a person of high feeling. Mothers consulted her on the diseases of their households, for she possessed such a fund of antidotes and experience, that the pastor's daughter wrote them down for the general benefit; for the poor could not afford to pay

the doctor, who lived three or four miles distant from the village; there were no medical clubs in those days, people were glad to avail themselves of simple remedies, and it is doubtful whether they have benefited much by ceasing to think for themselves. Judith's receipts went from cottage to cottage, and as they were mostly composed of herbs commonly known, were readily applied; this brought upon the schoolmistress the displeasure of our doctor, who was a person of no small importance; he was a member of the Royal College of Surgeons, and of course that stamped him with an indescribable dignity; he denounced everything that interfered with what he called his practice, as mere quackery; we see the same kind of spirit manifested in this day towards the disciples of the illustrious Hahnemann, the prince of physicians, who devoted his honourable and useful life to the good of mankind. Children have strange thoughts and feelings; we regarded the doctor with much the same dread, as we may suppose the doomed ox to labour under, when he scents the slaughterhouse; his lancet was ever ready as the sovereign cure for all diseases, and he rode furiously, even the clatter of his horses heels seemed to strike terror, and it was said that he was a freethinker; we could not comprehend the mysterious word, but since then it has been unravelled, which we would wish to construe into another meaning-no thinker at all.

The summer passed away, and thousands of thankful hearts beheld the golden grain, full of glorious promise, bending gracefully to the kiss of the gentle breeze, the full orbed harvest moon threw her subdued

and silvery light over hill and dale, the weary reapers lingered long in the fields, patiently and hopefully looking forward to the joyous harvest home; but ere another rising moon the rain clouds gathered, and the winds sobbed heavily, intimating, hope not too much, O man! thou canst not grasp the radiant bow, which delights thee with its beauty, it was created in a cloud, and in a cloud it dies. An exceedingly wet season set in, and for several weeks the harvest operations were partially discontinued, the dusky wing of the destroyer seemed to spread itself over the industry and hopes of mankind, the war prices were burdens grievous to be borne, and the bad harvest enhanced the value of grain still more, some of us may remember the coarse barley bread as a substitute for the bad wheat; happily children of this day know but little of privation occasioned by bad harvests; the improved state of agriculture bring the fruits of the earth to perfection earlier, and an enlightened commerce with the blessings of peace are as the dews of plenty. Disease often follows in the train of unfavourable events; a malignant fever broke out in the village, people said that it was the black typhus, there was scarcely a house unvisited, and many tender ties were broken by the grim king of terrors, life's gloomy foe, which nature does not love to look upon. But

Most of the cottages were thatched with straw and ill ventilated, and with the addition of poverty fanned the flame still more, the doctor was overworked in the extreme; the pastor who loved his people felt helpless, he could do but little except his prayers, he spoke in