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Mrs. O'C. Why, sir, my little spalpeen of a son goes to this school, he does; and he says he's made to swape every day, he is; and it's all for nothing, he tills me; and sure I don't like it, I don't; and I'm kim to complain to ye, I have. It's Patrick O'Clary that I'm spaking of; and it's I that's his mither, I be; and his poor father was Paddy O'Clary from Cork, it was-rest his sowl!

Mas. Well, madam, he has never swept but once, I believe; and that, surely, was not without a good reason.

Mrs. O'C. But himself tills a different story, he does; and I niver knew him till but one lie in my life, I didn't; and that was as good as none. But the little spalpeen shall be after tilling his own stowry, he shall; for it 's he that's waiting in the entry, and will till ye no lie at all at all,-upon that ye may depind; though it's his mither that says it, and sure! (Calls.) Patrick! Patrick! Patrick! My dear, here's your mither wants ye to come in, and till master how it's you that's kept to swape ivry day, and it's all for nothing, it is. Come in, I say, in a jiffy! (PATRICK, scratching his head, enters.) Here's your mither, dear now till your master,—and till the truth,—didn't ye till your mither that ye had to swape ivry day for nothing; and it's you that's going to be kept swaping ivry day for a month to come, and sure?

Mas. Now tell the truth, Patrick.

Patrick. (Looking at his mother.) No; I niver said no such words; and sure, I said how I's kept to swape yisterday, for staying out too late; and that's all I said 'bout it, at all at all.

Mrs. O' C. "Cush la macree!" Little sonny, how you talk! He's frightened, he is, and sure. (Turning to Fosdick.) He's always bashful before company, he is. But, master, it's I that don't like to have him made to swape the school, indade; inl if you can do nothing else, I shall be in sad taking, I shall, and sure. If you should be after bating him, I should make no complaint; for I bates him myself, whiniver he lies to his mither -a little spalpeen that he is. But I can't bear to have him made to do the humbling work of swaping, at all at all; and

it's I that shall make a "clish ma claver," an' it's not stoppedindade I shall. (Somebody knocks.)

(Isaac steps to the door, and returning, says,) 'Squire Snyder wishes to see you, sir.

Mas. (Smiling.) Well, ask Mr. Snyder to step in. We may as well have a regular court of it.

(Isaac waits upon him in, leading JONAS, with his hands poulticed.)

sir.

Mas. (Smiling.) Good morning, Mr. Snyder ;-walk in,

Mr. Snyder. (Rather gentlemanly.) I hope you will excuse my interrupting your school; but I called to inquire what Jonas, here, could have done, that you bruised him up at such a rate. Poor little fellow! he came home, taking on as if his heart would break; and both his hands swelled up bigger than mine; and he said you had been beating him for nothing. I thought I'd come up and inquire into it; for I don't hold to this banging and abusing children, and especially when they haven't done anything; though I'm a friend to good order.

Mas. I was not aware that I punished him very severely, sir.

Mr. S. O, it was dreadfully severe. Why, the poor little fellow's hands pained him so, that his mother had to poultice them, and sit up with him all night; and this morning she wanted to come up to school with him herself; but I told her I guessed she better let me come. Jonas, do your hands ache now, dear?

Jonas. (Holding them both out together.) O, dreadfully! They feel as if they were in the fire.

Mr. S. Well, dear, keep composed; don't cry, dear. Now, sir (addressing the master,) this was all for nothing.

Mas. No, sir. It was for something, I am thinking.

Jo. I say I did not do nothing; so there, now. (Somebody knocks.)

Mas. Gentlemen, sit down. (Looking perplexed.) Sit down, madam. Give me a little time, and I'll endeavor to set the matter right. (All sitting down but the boys.)

Mr. S. Why, I don't wish to make a serious matter of it. I shan't prosecute you. I was only going to ask if you couldn't devise some other kind of punishment than pommelling. If you'd made him stop after school, or set him to sweeping the house, or scouring the benches, or even whipped him with a cowhide. or a switch stick, I should not have complained; but I don't like this beating boys. (Knocking again.)

Mas. Isaac, go and see who is at the door. (Isaac goes, and in stalks SAUNDERS, with his son Jabez.)

Saunders. (Bowing and flourishing.) Here! halloo! Here, I say, Mr. Schoolmaster, settle up the score as ye goes along. I say (snatching a cowhide,) you have been horsewhipping my boy here, hain't you? By the fifteen gallon law, you don't come that game over the son of Nehemiah Saunders, you see, you pale-faced, good-for-nothing. But pardon me, master; I ax your pardon; for 'Miah Saunders always was, and always will be, a gentleman.-Ye see,-don't ye see?-(hiccoughing,— lifts off his hat,)-ye see-I'll tell ye what, master-if I'd only known it yesterday, ye see, I'd a been here and—but—ye see— yesterday I was very particularly engaged-but now (approaching, and switching the cowhide,) ye see we 'll know who's the strongest. I'll give you

Mrs. O' C. (Screeching.) La! what shall I do? If there's a going to be fighting, by St. Patrick, I shall go into hysterics.O dear! dear! dear!

Mas. O, don't be frightened, madam.

Saund. (Looking at the woman.) O, ha, ha! Why, Cathleen O'Clary-ye see-why, have you left your washtub to go to school? Why, bless my heart! Why, ye see, bless me !— the master here will have a most tractable pupil in you, Cathleen. Why, my stars! ye see-and here is neighbor Fosdick! why, how de du, neighbor Fosdick? (Bowing very low to S.) How do you do, 'Squire Snyder? Why, I hope I hain't been disturbing a court, nor nothing. (Rubbing his head, &c.) The truth is, I felt dreadfully provoked when I heard that master here had been whipping my son with a raw hide, like a horse; and says I. I don't sleep till I have whipped him--and all for

nothing, too!-I've nothing against licking, Mr. Schoolmaster, if you use the right kind of licking. Ferule a boy, or give him a stick, till he cries "Enough!" but none of your horsewhipping, I say!-ye see-I can't stand that! (During this speech, Jabe archly hangs an old rag upon his father's coat, and steps back, and laughs at it.)

Mr. Fosdick. (Who saw it.) Mr. Saunders, what is that you've got upon your coat? (Examining.)

Saund. On my coat,-where? (Looks, and after a while finds it, and says, in awful rage,) "Who did that?"

Fos. It was your hopeful son, there.

Saund. You little villain of a scamp! (Attempting to hit him with the whip, but staggering, fails.) I'll whip the hide all off of you, I will. Master, he's in your house; order him to me, and I'll show you how to use the cowhide!

Mas. Be calm, sir; be calm. Will you be good enough to sit down? You are a gentleman, you say; then oblige me by sitting down between these two gentlemen.

Saund. That I will. I'll oblige any gentleman. (After many attempts, gets to the seat.)

Mas. And now, gentlemen, and (bowing) madam, I think we may each of us begin to see the beauty of variety, especially in the matter of opinion. That you may all understand the whole case, I will state, in a few words, the facts, as they actually occurred. Day before yesterday, our young friend Jabez (pointing to him) was playing his favorite trick of hanging his rag-signal upon a schoolmate, after the fashion in which he has here so filially served his father, within a few minutes; and standing near him at the time, with my whip in hand, I could not resist the temptation to salute his mischievous knuckles with a well-directed stroke, which, however effectually it may have cut his own fingers and his father's sensibilities, it seems has not cut off his ruling propensity. Yesterday was emphatically a day of sinning on my part. Jonas Snyder, whose little hands have swelled to such enormous magnitude, for constant idleness was often reproved; and after all this, when he threw a portion of an apple at a more industrious boy, thus disturbing many of

those well-disposed boys, he was called and feruled, receiving six strokes-three on each hand-with the rule I now show you. Little Patrick O'Clary was required to sweep the schoolroom floor for a strong instance of tardiness at recess; and this punishment was given because I did not wish to inflict a severer one upon so small a lad. And last, this little fellow (pointing to Bill Fosdick) was detained, in common with seven others, to learn a lesson which he neglected to learn at the proper time.

Such are the facts. And yet each of you has assured me that I have incurred your displeasure by using a punishment you disapprove, and "all for nothing." You have each one taken the trouble to come to this room, to render my task-already sufficiently perplexing-still more so, by giving parental support to childish complaints, and imparting your censure, in no measured terms, upon the instructor of your children. But this is a most interesting case. You all happen to be here together, and you thus give me the opportunity I have long wished, to show you your own inconsistencies.

It is easy to complain of your teacher; but perhaps either of you, in your wisdom, would find it not quite so easy to take my place and escape censure. How would either of you have got along in the present instance? Mr. Fosdick, who is displeased with detention after school, would have, according to his own. recommendation, resorted to "licking," either with ferule or whip. In this case, he would have incurred the censure of his friends, 'Squire Snyder and Mr. Saunders. The squire, in turn, would have raised the displeasure of both his friends, by resorting to his favorite mode of detaining and cowhiding. Mistress O'Clary would give the "spalpeens" a "bating," as she says, after her own peculiar fashion, with which the squire and Mr. Saunders could not have been over-much pleased. And Mr. Saunders-ah, Mr. 'Miah Saunders-if we may judge from the exhibition he has just given us, would have displeased even himself, by proving to be what he most of all things detests-a champion of the cowhide. But what is a little curious, as it appears, is, that while I have not carried out the favorite scheme of either one of you,-which, we have already seen, would be

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