MEMORIES OE THE 



was done. I remember that he had an old '' bull's-eye" silver 

 watch which sometimes ran, sometimes not. The boys soon 

 learned that his watch was somewhat lame and antiquated, and 

 about half-past three o'clock would ask Mills, ''Mr. Wilcox, if 

 you please, what time is it ? " Mills would pull out the old 

 " bull's-eye" with his left hand, look at the face, glance through 

 the southwest window towards the sun, and answer, "Three 

 o'clock and thirty-seven minutes; " then, if he forgot himself, 

 would walk towards the blackboard, shake the watch and put it 

 up to his ear to ascertain if it was ticking. 



But I cannot spend all my time with the winter schools or the 

 men teachers. The memories which are the clearest and sweet- 

 est to me are those of the dear " school-ma'ams " of the summer 

 terms; indeed, they sometimes taught in the winter also. The 

 one who taught me the most terms was Lucinda Barton, always 

 called "Aunt Lucinda," not so much on account of her age, 

 although she was an old maid, but because the Barton children, 

 of whom there were several in school, always spoke to her as 

 Aunt Lucinda, and the rest of us took it up and respectfully 

 used the same kind appellation. 



Like her brother William, she was an excellent, conscien- 

 tious teacher, and besides was a good woman, who would not 

 hurt a fly if she could help it. She had to deal with the roguish 

 pupils of the summer school, which was composed of the small 

 boys and girls who were big enough to go to school and yet not 

 so large but that they could be spared from the farm and house 

 work. They were like the average boy and girl from five to 

 twelve years of age, and it is well known that a boy about this 

 age is the most mischievous and meanest in his whole life — 

 and the boys of District No. 4 were no exception. 



Aunt Lucinda was indefatigable in the school-room, giving us 



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