348 MISCELLANEOUS. 



longer safe to occupy it. It was about to fall down, and so 

 the school-directors ordered it torn down. The foundation- 

 stones were hauled away and used in the new schoolhouse, 

 which was built a mile below. The fence, which inclosed 

 my father's field near the schoolhouse, has been extended so 

 as to take in the schoolhouse lot, and it has been broken up 

 and farmed for several years past. The old oak-trees that 

 shaded our playground have been cut down, and the stumps 

 are decayed and gone. I cannot even locate definitely the 

 boundaries of our old ball -ground, nor can I find any of the 

 old landmarks that are so dear to my memory. Verily the 

 hand of time has fallen heavily on this sacred spot. I un- 

 cover my head as I gaze upon the wreck of the past, and 

 through my blinding tears the familar faces of teachers and 

 playmates rise up before me. 



Where are they now ? 



Some of them, as I have said, still live in the neighbor- 

 hood ; but others, alas ! are scattered to the four corners of 



the earth. 



" And some are in the churchyard laid !" 



And what a flood of tender memories comes with those 

 faces ! Here I conned almost my first lessons in books. Here I 

 received many wholesome lessons, many good impressions that 

 have never been effaced from my memory. Here were scenes 

 of childish glee and childish sorrow ; childish conquests and 

 childish disappointments. How my boyish heart used to 

 bound with delight, as, by spelling a hard word correctly, I 

 was allowed to walk proudly to the head of my class, " turn- 

 ing down "a dozen of my classmates who had missed the 

 same word before it came to me. And, then, how I have 

 bitten my lip in sorrow and shame, as I missed an easy word, 

 and a rival has taken my place at the head. 



We had night spelling-schools in those days not those 



