CHAPTER XV.

GEAUGA SEMINARY.

IN the fifth day of March, the day before the school opened, James and his cousins trav elled to Chester, on foot, quite heavily load

ed with cooking utensils and provisions. The distance was ten miles, over roads that were poor, indeed, at that season of the year. They carried dippers, plates, a knife and fork each, a fry-pan, kettle, and other things to match, with a quantity of ham, or "bacon," as the settlers called it. James was arrayed in the suit of clothes in which he appeared before Dr. Robinson, and the other boys were clad about ditto. No one would have charged them with pride, on their way to the "Seminary." At this day, some faithful constable would arrest such a troop for tramps, who had robbed a farmer's kitchen and were taking "leg bail." Nevertheless, they were three as jolly boys as Cuyahoga County could boast. Their errand was nobler and grander than that of any aspirant who was fishing for an office in the State of Ohio. Why should they not be jolly?

They proceeded directly to the house of the principal, Mr. Daniel Branch, an eccentric man, though very respectable scholar in some departments.

"We've come to attend your school," said James, addressing himself to Mr. Branch. "We came from Orange."

"What's your name?" inquired the principal.

"My name is James A. Garfield; and these are my cousins [turning to the boys]; their names are Wil liam and Henry Boynton."

"Well, I'm glad to see you, boys; you might be engaged in much worse business than this. I suppose you are no richer than most of the scholars we have here."

The last remark of Mr. Branch is good evidence that he had surveyed the new-comers from head to foot, and that the remark was prompted by their poor apparel.

"No, sir," answered James, dryly; "we are not loaded down with gold or silver, but with pots, and kettles, and provisions for housekeeping."

"Going to board yourselves, then," replied the teacher, by way of inquiry.

"Yes, sir; can you tell us where we can find a room?" answered James.

"Yes; near by," answered Mr. Branch; "a good deal of that business is done here. Scores of our boys if they could not

and girls would never stay here board themselves. "Look here," and stepping out from the door-way he pointed to an old, unpainted. house, twenty or thirty rods away. "You see that old house there, do you?" he said. James assented. "I think you will find a room there: an old lady, as poor as you are, lives in one part of it. You will go to her to inquire."

"Thank you, sir, thank you," repeated the boys, politely, as they started for the antique habitation. They found the old lady, and hired a room, for a pit. tance, in which there were a fireplace, three old chairs, that corresponded with the building, and two beds on the floor, or what the good woman of the house was bold enough to call beds. Here they unpacked their goods, and set up housekeeping by cooking their first meal.

The "Geauga Seminary" was a Free-will Baptist institution, in quite a flourishing condition, having a hundred students, of both sexes, drawn thither from the towns in that region. The town in which it was located, Chester, was small, but pleasant, the academy furnishing the only attraction of the place.

School opened, and James devoted himself to grammar, natural philosophy, arithmetic, and algebra. He had never seen but one algebra before he purchased the one he used. The principal advised him to take this course of study.

It was a new scene for James, a school of one hundred pupils, male and female, most of them better clad than himself. He was awkward and bashful, espe cially in the presence of young ladies, whom he re garded as far superior to young men of the same age and attainments. Still he broke into the routine of the school readily, and soon was under full headway, like a new vessel with every sail set.

Singularly enough, he encountered an unexpected difficulty in the grammar-class within a very few days. James said, "but is a conjunction."

"Not so; but is a verb, and means be out," replied the teacher.

"A verb! but a verb?" exclaimed James, in reply, without scarcely thinking that he was calling the teacher's opinion in question. He had Kirkman's grammar at his command, even to its preface, which he could glibly repeat, word by word; and he knew that but was a conjunction, according to Kirkman, and all the teachers whose pupil he had been.

teacher be joking, or did he make a blunder?

Could his

"Yes; but is a verb, no matter what the books say, young man; whose grammar have you studied?" the teacher answered.

"Kirkman's," replied James.

"Kirkman! and he is just like all the rest of them, wrong from beginning to end," said Mr. Branch. "That's not the grammar you will learn in this school, I can tell you, by any means. teach a grammar of my own, the grammar of common sense."

I

James thought it was the grammar of nonsense, though he did not say so. At that time he did not know that Mr. Branch was at war with all the grammarians, and had introduced a system of instruction in that study peculiarly his own.

"Besides Kirkman, all the teachers I ever had have called but a conjunction," added James, directly implying that he did not accept Branch's grammar.

"You don't believe it, I clearly see, young man; but you will long before you have spent twelve weeks in this school," remarked Mr. Branch. "You will have sense to see that I am right, and the old grammarians wrong."

"If but is a verb, I don't see why and is not a verb

also," remarked James, being quite inclined to array Kirkman against Branch.

"It is a verb, James; and is a verb, I want you to understand, in the imperative mood, and means add; that is all there is to it," was the emphatic answer of Mr. Branch.

James looked at the boys, and smiled in his knowing way. The teacher saw the unbelief which per vaded that look, and he continued,

"See here, young man; and does something more than connect two things; it adds. I want to speak of you and Henry, two of you together, and I say, James and Henry; that is, add Henry to James: don't you see it now? It is clear as daylight."

There was no daylight in it to James, and he so expressed himself. Each day brought discussions in the class between the principal and James. The former's system of grammar was all of a piece with and and but, so that the hour for the grammar class was an hour of contention, very spicy to the members of the class, but rather annoying to the teacher. The latter was not long in discovering that he had a remarkable scholar in James, one who would not receive anything on trust, or without the most sub stantial reason or proof. His respect for James' talents somewhat reconciled him to his annoying contradictions.

The boys had much sport over Branch's grammar; we mean James and his cousins.

"If but is a verb, then butter must be an adverb, since it only adds three more letters and one more syllable," said James.