CHAPTER I.
A PRIVATE LESSON FROM A BULLDOG.
"Want to be a school-master, do you?
You?
Well, what would _you_ do in Flat Crick deestrick, _I'd_ like to know?
Why, the boys have driv off the last two, and licked the one afore them like blazes.

You might teach a summer school, when nothin' but children come.

But I 'low it takes a right smart _man_ to be school-master in Flat Crick in the winter.
They'd pitch you out of doors, sonny, neck and heels, afore Christmas." The young man, who had walked ten miles to get the school in this district, and who had been mentally reviewing his learning at every step he took, trembling lest the committee should find that he did not know enough, was not a little taken aback at this greeting from "old Jack Means," who was the first trustee that he lighted on.

The impression made by these ominous remarks was emphasized by the glances which he received from Jack Means's two sons.

The older one eyed him from the top of his brawny shoulders with that amiable look which a big dog turns on a little one before shaking him.