Carroll and Brooks readers - a reader for the fifth grade . warm without their digging into the bowels ofthe earth for coal. It is a winters day when we take our peep into theschoolroom. See what great logs of wood have beenrolled into the fireplace, and what a broad, brightblaze goes leaping up the chimney! And every fewminutes a, vast cloud of smoke is puffed into the room,which sails slowly over the heads of the scholars,until it gradually settles upon the walls and are blackened with the smoke of many yearsalready. Next look at our old historic chair! It is placed,you perceive
Carroll and Brooks readers - a reader for the fifth grade . warm without their digging into the bowels ofthe earth for coal. It is a winters day when we take our peep into theschoolroom. See what great logs of wood have beenrolled into the fireplace, and what a broad, brightblaze goes leaping up the chimney! And every fewminutes a, vast cloud of smoke is puffed into the room,which sails slowly over the heads of the scholars,until it gradually settles upon the walls and are blackened with the smoke of many yearsalready. Next look at our old historic chair! It is placed,you perceive, in the most comfortable part of the room,where the generous glow of the fire is sufficiently feltwithout being too intensely hot. How stately the oldchair looks, as if it remembered its many famous occu- THE OLD-FASHIONED SCHOOL 145 pants, but yet were conscious that a greater man issitting in it now! Do you see the venerable schoolmaster, severe inaspect, with a black skull cap on his head, like anancient Puritan, and the snow of his white beard drift-. ing down to his very girdle? What boy would dareto play, or whisper, or even glance aside from hisbook, while Master Cheever is on the lookout behindhis spectacles. For such offenders, if any such therebe, a rod of birch is hanging over the fireplace, and aheavy ferule lies on the masters desk. And now the school is begun. What a murmur ofmultitudinous tongues, like the whispering leaves ofa wind-stirred oak, as the scholars con over their vari-ous tasks! Buzz! buzz! buzz! Amid just such a mur-10 146 A READER FOR, THE FIFTH GRADE nmr had Master Cheever spent above sixty years; andthe long habit has made it as pleasant to him as the humof a beehive when the insects are busy in the sunshine. Now a class in Latin is called to recite. Forth stepa row of queer-looking little fellows, wearing square-skirted coats and smallclothes, with buttons at theknees. They look like so many grandfathers in theirsecond childhood. These lads are
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