CHAPTER I.
RICE CORNER.
Yes, Rice Corner! Do you think it a queer name?
Well, Rice Corner was a queer place, and deserved a queer name.

Now whether it is celebrated for anything in particular, I really can't at this moment think, unless, indeed, it is famed for having been my birthplace! Whether this of itself is sufficient to immortalize a place future generations may, perhaps, tell, but I have some misgivings whether the present will.

This idea may be the result of my having recently received sundry knocks over the knuckles in the shape of criticisms.
But I know one thing--on the bark of that old chestnut tree which stands near Rice Corner schoolhouse, my name is cut higher than some of my more bulky contemporary quill--or rather steel--pen-wielders ever dared to climb.

To be sure, I tore my dress, scratched my face, and committed numerous other little rompish _miss_-demeanors, which procured for me a motherly scolding.

That, however, was of minor consideration when compared with having my name up--in the chestnut tree, at least, if it couldn't be up in the world.