The life of a school-girl presents but few salient points to arrest the interest.

It is true, every day had its history, and every rising and setting sun found something added to the volume of my life.

But there seems so little to describe! I could go on for ever, giving utterance to thoughts that used to crowd in my young brain, thoughts that would startle as well as amuse,--but I fear they might become monotonous to the reader.
I had become a hard student.

My mother wished me to fit myself for a teacher.

It was enough.
It was not, however, without many struggles.