^T. 15.] AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 11 



science. But my old teacher, Mr. Avery, an alumnus 

 of the college, entered the lists and carried the day. 

 I wonder if I should have rusted out there if I had 

 got the place. 



I must go back to say something of my omnivorous 

 reading, which was, after all, the larger part of my 

 education. I was a reader almost from my cradle, 

 and I read everything I could lay hands on. There 

 was no great choice in my early boyhood. But there 

 was a little subscription library at Sauquoit, the stock- 

 holders of which met four times a year, distributed the 

 books by auction to the highest bidder (maximum, 

 perhaps, ten or twelve cents) to have and to hold for 

 three months ; or if there was no competition each 

 took what he chose. Rather slow circulation this ; 

 but in the three months the books were thoroughly 

 read. History I rather took to, but especially voyages 

 and travels were my delight. There were no plays-, 

 not even Shakespeare in the library, but a sprinkling 

 of novels. My novel-reading, up to the time when I 

 was sent to school at Clinton, was confined, I think, to 

 Miss Porter's " Children of the Abbey" and " Thad- 

 deus of Warsaw " the latter a soul-stirring pro- 

 duction, of which I can recall a good deal ; of the 

 former nothing distinctly. One Sunday afternoon, of 

 the first winter I was at Clinton, I went into the 

 public room of one of the two village inns, where half 

 a dozen of the villagers were assembled; and one 

 was reading aloud "Quentin Durward," which had 

 just appeared in an American (Philadelphia) reprint. 

 This was my introduction to the Waverley novels. 

 The next summer, when at home for farm work, I 

 found " Rob Roy " in the little library I have men- 

 tioned, took it out and read it with interest. In the 



