The following winter brought the event for which the mother had planned and about which she had dreamed since her boy was born—a school!

The men gathered on the appointed day, cut the logs and split the boards for the house. Another day and it was raised and the roof in place.

Tom volunteered to make the teacher\'s table and chair and benches for the scholars. He had the best set of tools in the county and he wished to do it because he knew it would please his wife. There was no money in it but his life was swiftly passing in that sort of work. He was too big-hearted and generous to complain. Besides the world in which he lived—the world of field and wood, of dog and gun, of game and the open road was too beautiful and interesting to complain about it. He was glad to be alive and tried to make his neighbors think as he did about it.

When the great day dawned the young mother eagerly prepared breakfast for her children. She wouldn\'t allow Sarah to help this morning. It must be a perfect day in her life. She washed the Boy\'s face and hands with scrupulous care when the breakfast things were cleared away, and her grey eyes were shining with a joy he had never seen before. He caught her excitement and the spirit of it took possession of his imagination.

"What\'ll school be like, Ma?" he asked in a tense whisper.

"Oh, this one won\'t be very exciting; maybe in a little room built of logs. But it\'s the beginning, Boy, of greater things. Just spelling, reading, writing and arithmetic now—but you\'re starting on the way that leads out of these silent, lonely woods into the big world where great men fight and make history. Your father has never known this way. He\'s good and kind and gentle and generous, but he\'s just a child, because he doesn\'t know. You\'re going to be a man among men for your mother\'s sake, aren\'t you?"

She seized his arms and gripped them in her eagerness until he felt the pain.

"Won\'t you, Boy?" she repeated tensely.

He looked up steadily and then slowly said:

"Yes, I will."

She clasped him impulsively in her arms and hurried from the cabin leading the children by the hand. The Boy could feel her slender fingers trembling.

When they drew near the cross roads where the little log house had been built, she stopped, nervously fixed their clothes, took off the Boy\'s cap and brushed his thick black hair.

They were the first to arrive, but in a few minutes others came, and by nine o\'clock more than thirty scholars were in their seats. The mother\'s heart sank within her when she met the teacher and heard him talk. It was only too evident that he was poorly equipped for his work. He could barely read and could neither write nor teach arithmetic. The one qualification about which there was absolute certainty, was that he could lick the biggest boy in school whenever the occasion demanded it. He conveyed this interesting bit of information to the assemblage in no uncertain language.

The mother could scarcely keep back her tears. By the end of the week it was plain that her children knew as much as their teacher.

"What\'s the use?" Tom asked in disgust. "Hit\'s a waste o\' time an\' money. Let \'em quit!"

"No, I can\'t take them out!" was the firm reply. "They may not learn much, but if the school keeps going, don\'t you see, a better man will come bye and bye, and then it will be worth while."

Tom shook his head, but let her have her own way.

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