Mr. Hoskins resolved to have a talk to the vicar about this rebellious pupil. He took his hat and went out.

"Dear me," he sighed as he walked along, "a schoolmaster's life is a very hard one. If he is a conscientious man he must not only teach his pupils as he would so many parrots, cramming them with arithmetic, grammar, and geography, but study their characters and try to form their minds. And that is precisely what he finds hardest to do, and what he gets least thanks for doing. Of course he gains some knowledge of the boys' dispositions, but it often puzzles the wisest of us to know exactly how to deal with each."

From which it may be inferred that Mr. Hoskins was a conscientious man.

Until lately this unpleasant aspect of his duty had never forced itself upon his mind; now it had come to him with a problem which he did not feel equal to solving just then,-what was to be done with Bill Jenkins?

The young scapegrace had disputed his authority, incited the scholars to rebellion, and ended now by setting him at open defiance. Punishment had failed to do its work,—there was nothing for it but a disgraceful dismissal. He thought over every method he reclaiming juvenile offenders before There was the plan of getting a good boy to act as a guarantee for a bad boy's proper behaviour. Then the good boy might have to suffer. Ah, well the master knew Bill Jenkins would not care who suffered so that he might go scot free.

ever heard of for it came to this.

On his first introduction to the school, Mr. Hoskins had tried kindness. That seemed very long ago now, though in reality it was only two months. Some three months since this boy's parents had come to the village. His father took a few fields for grazing, and dealt in a small way in cattle, purchasing yearlings and calves at fairs and markets. He was a rough, quarrelsome fellow, and the simple villagers were rather afraid of him. Neither of the family went to a place of worship, but the good vicar felt it his duty to make some effort on their behalf. He therefore ventured on a visit, only one, for he never went again. This visit, however, produced one good result to Mr. Hiliar's mind,-after some difficulty he obtained a promise from the jobber that his only son should attend the village school.

We don't want religion," the man said roughly, "but a trifle of larnin' does no man any 'arm. The boy hought to know 'ow to calc'late, and put two and two together. I s'pose, too, if his HEnglish was mended folks would think better of him. Yes, if it pleases you, sir, the boy shall go to school; but tell the master to take him a bit heasy at first. He's like a young colt hunused to the bridle, tender about the mouth and skittish like." And the man laughed grimly at his own humour. "I'll see that he goes,

but do ye mind that he stays."

A possible difficulty suggested itself to the clergyman's mind.

“I suppose he will be unwilling to come at the first," he said, a little timidly; "until he gets to know

us and used to restraint he cannot be expected to like it."

"Never you mind about that, parson," was the sullen retort, as the speaker, out of tacit respect for his company, checked the utterance of an oath; "I'll see to that. If he don't go once I 'ave set my foot down, I'll be the death of him, that's hall."

It was vain for the minister to protest or plead. He had gained his point, Bill Jenkins was to come to school; yet he was far from feeling satisfied.

As Mr. Hiliar walked slowly homeward, he stopped to look at a young plantation-oaks, ash, and elms, rising but a few feet above ground.

Between these were some willows and poplars growing apace.

"Ab," he sighed reflectively; "these willows and poplars are but nurse-trees, intended to protect and direct the growth of the others. Even so we should stand between and shield from the fierce blasts of temptation the young human plants, which through a right direction, may become vigorous and useful byand-by."

But he did not calculate upon the inherent power of evil in the boy he would have reclaimed. The root of the matter-the love of sin must be destroyed. before a right bias can be given to the mind of old or young. Still in the main he knew he was right; for it is a great and noble task to train the young to walk in that wisdom whose ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths peace.

And so commenced Bill Jenkins' probation, and that training which it was hoped would result in a new life.

CHAPTER II.

CORRECTING A MISTAKE.

AND to what had it all tended, that two months' patient striving with and unceasing correction of this big child, ignorant, self-willed, and repulsive? He was to be dismissed.

Expelled from the rural abode of learning as quietly, yet firmly, as possible. Such was the vicar's and schoolmaster's conclusion. Not made a public example of, for the fancied benefit of boys who were in a wholly different state and position. No; as to that Bill Jenkins stood, or rather sat alone in the school. There was no one akin to him, thank God, Mr. Hiliar thought, in social, moral, or mental condition.

"But I will speak to the lad before he goes," he said ruefully. "I shall try and point out the hopelessness of his future if he hardens his heart against the truth, and resists all good influences. As the twig is bent so the tree will grow, and he has had such bad bringing up, poor lad."

"The boy who has no wish to improve or rise, but determines to keep to his evil courses, is beyond saving," the schoolmaster remarked.

"I don't know that, Hoskins; I don't know that,"

returned the clergyman. to be in a very hopeless condition, but God has means. of reaching the most hardened reprobate. We must ask Him to reach Bill Jenkins. You do not know his father?"

"He certainly seems to us

Mr. Hoskins was thankful to be able to answer that he did not. He had seen the jobber; that was all. It was quite enough, rather too much indeed, to know the son. He had no hope that good would result from Mr. Hiliar's appeal to the boy. Still it was a clergyman's duty to reclaim the offender; to stretch out a hand of rescue if possible, ere he sank into the pit of corruption towards which he was hastening. Before the schoolmaster's mind was only the waste of a life, moral degradation, and misery. But to the minister's came a thought of the darkness which lay beyond.

"I am afraid I did wrong in bringing the lad to the school at all," the latter reflected. "He was not a proper companion for the other boys-sons of respectable small farmers or mechanics. I wonder the parents have not resented it as an injustice. Well, there is one thing certain, I shall not go to Jenkins to complain of his son's wrong-doing. I would rather have it out with Bill himself. Ah, me; better he had never come than oblige him now to leave. It will prejudice the family against me; or worse still, against the religion I represent."

He went into his study, and took up his Bible. As he did so, it opened at a leaf where a mark had been placed.