Altogether, Nora's son was a pleasing lad to look upon as he stood
smilingly but modestly, hat in hand, at the schoolroom door, to which he
had been brought by Jovial.
The pupils were all assembled--the boys gathered around their tutor, on
the right; the girls hovering about their governess on the left.
Mr. and Mrs. Middleton were both present, sitting near a pleasant window
that the mild spring morning had invited them to open. They were both
expecting Ishmael, and both arose to meet him.
Mrs. Middleton silently shook his hand.
Mr. Middleton presented him to the school, saying: "Young gentlemen, this is your new companion, Master Ishmael Worth, as
worthy a youth as it has ever been my pleasure to know. I hope you will
all make him welcome among you."
There was an instant and mysterious putting together of heads and
buzzing of voices among the pupils.
"Walter, come here," said Mr. Middleton.
A youth of about fifteen years of age arose and approached.
"Ishmael, this is my eldest son, Walter. I hope you two may be good
friends. Walter, take Ishmael to a seat beside you; and when the
recreation hour comes, make him well acquainted with your companions.
Mind, Walter, I commit him to your charge."
Walter Middleton smiled, shook hands with Ishmael, and led him away to
share his own double desk.
Mr. Middleton then called the school to order and opened the exercises
with the reading of the Scripture and prayer.
This over, he came to Ishmael and laid an elementary geography before
him, with the first lesson marked out on it, saying: "There, my lad; commit this to memory as soon as you can, and then take
your book up for recitation to Mr. Green. He will hear you singly for
some time until you overtake the first class, which I am sure you will
do very soon; it will depend upon yourself how soon."
And with these kind words Mr. Middleton left the room.
How happy was Ishmael! The schoolroom seemed an elysium! It is true that
this was no ordinary schoolroom; but one of the pleasantest places of
the kind to be imagined; and very different from the small, dark, poor
hut. Ishmael was delighted with its snow-white walls, its polished oak
floor, its clear open windows with their outlook upon the blue sky and
the green trees and variegated shrubs. He was pleased with his shining
mahogany desk, with neat little compartments for slate, books, pen,
pencils, ink, etc. He was in love with his new book with its gayly
colored maps and pictures and the wonders revealed to him in its
lessons. He soon left off reveling in the sights and sounds of the
cheerful schoolroom to devote himself to his book. To him study was not
a task, it was an all-absorbing rapture. His thirsty intellect drank up
the knowledge in that book as eagerly as ever parched lips quaffed cold
water. He soon mastered the first easy lesson, and would have gone up
immediately for recitation, only that Mr. Green was engaged with a
class. But Ishmael could not stop; he went on to the second lesson and
then to the third, and had committed the three to memory before Mr.
Green was disengaged. Then he went up to recite. At the end of the first
lesson Mr. Green praised his accuracy and began to mark the second.