SU AIMER. 77 



past, a glow that ne'er grows dim, but only kindles and brightens with 

 the flood of years. Yes, yes ; I know it sounds like a dash of sentiment, 

 but words of mine are feeble and impotent indeed when sought for the 

 expression of an attachment so fond, of a love so deep. 



Fifteen years ago, with a parting full of sorrow, I rode away from 

 Snug Hamlet yonder in the village stage — a day that brought a depres- 

 sion that lingered long, and lingers still. Glowing, sunset-tinted fields 

 glide by unnoticed now, as, with eyes intent on the distant hill, I look 

 back through the lapse of time. A mile has gone without my knowing 

 it, when a joyous laugh awakens me from my day-dreams. Two boys 

 approach us on the road ahead, and, what might seem very strange to 

 you, one wears a wooden boot-jack strung around his neck and dangling 

 on his breast ; but he carries his burden lightly and cheerfully. As they 

 near the carriage I draw the rein, and they both pause by the roadside. 



" Well, boys," I ask, " where do you hail from ?" 



" We're from the Snuggery, sir." 



" I thought so," said I, with a laugh, in which they both joined. " But 

 what are you doing with that boot-jack ?" 



" Oh, you see," said one, with a roguish smile, " Charlie and I were 

 having a little tussle in the sitting-room, and he picked up Mr. Snug's 

 boot-jack in the corner and began to pummel me with it ; and jest as we 

 were having it the worst, and were rollin' on the floor, Mr. Snug; came in 

 and caught us in the job, and now we're payiii for it." 



" How so ?" I inquired, well knowing what would be the response. 



" Oh, you see, Mr. Snug held a diagnosis over our remains, and said 

 he thought we were suffering for the want of a little exercise, and 

 ordered us on a trip to Jucld's Bridge." 



" And the boot-jack ?" 



" Oh, he said that Charlie might want to play with that some more 

 on the way, and that he'd better fetch it along;" and with a mischievous 

 snicker at his encumbered companion, he led him along the road in an 

 hilarious race, while we enjoyed a hearty laugh at their expense. 



And this a punishment ! Yes, here is an introduction to one phase 

 of a system of correction as unique as the matchless institution in which 

 it had its birth — a system without a parallel in the annals of chastise- 

 ment or school government, and which for thirty years has proved its 

 wisdom in the household management of the Snuggery. 



" To Judd's Bridge !" How natural the sound of those words ! How 



