“About fifty.”

 

“Are they mostly boys?”

 

“There are about thirty boys--rather more than half.”

 

“How do they vary in age?”

 

“From ten to eighteen. I have three boys, or young men I might almost call them, of eighteen, two of seventeen, and three girls of sixteen and upwards¹.”

 

“Are they hard to manage?”

 

“The older ones? No; the most troublesome age is from thirteen to fifteen. Those who are older generally come to school for improvement, and are inclined to obey the rules of the school.”

 

This was reassuring². Walter knew that, in case he should be accepted as a teacher, he could not hope to cope with those two or three years older than himself. But if he could rely on the co-operation of the older pupils, he might get along.

 

“Mr. Barclay,” said he, after a moment’s thought, “do you think I would be too young to undertake the school?”

 

“You look pretty young,” answered the teacher. “You are not yet seventeen, I suppose?”

 

“I am not yet sixteen.”

 

“That is pretty young for a teacher. But then I was not much older than that when I commenced teaching.”

 

“Where did you teach?”

 

“In my native town, in Vermont. It was a winter district school of about forty scholars.”

 

“How did you get along?”

 

“Pretty well. I got the good will of the scholars, and they saw that I wanted to help them on as fast as possible.”

 

“I think I know enough to pass the examination,” said Walter, “and I am in search of some business to employ my time. If you want to give up the school, and recommend me to try it, I will offer myself to the school trustees.”

 

“What sort of a fellow are you, Mr. Howard--excusing the term I accidentally used--but have you got grit³? Do you generally succeed in what you undertake?”

 

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