day clothes. I do not recollect all the events of the occasion, but a few things stand out with vivid prominence. First, there were my new shoes that pinched my toes, and squeaked dismally as I walked. My impression is that it was a quarter of a mile from the door to my desk, and what a row of people I passed in that journey!

There were Mrs. Brocker, who beamed at me over her spectacles in a sort of " I-know-you-andguess-you-are-a-big-man to-day" sort of way; and Deacon Adams, with an indescribable twinkle in his eye. I thought he was making fun of me on account of my new shoes. Finally, I woke up the Visitor. He opened his eyes, and looked at me over his spectacles, and made my journey longer. He had a learned way of leaning back in his armchair, and "going to sleep," as we thought. Woe to the luckless youth that woke him up! But this time I escaped that disaster.

When the teacher had tapped on the desk, and told Frank to shut the door and put the water-pail in the corner, the Visitor said to her: "You may call out the class in 'Webster's Speller and Definer,'" and went to sleep again. He may have waked up more than twice during the class, but I do not remember that he did. Some of the parents

changed their seats, and we young folks lined up against the wall, from the door to the blackboard.

On the final wake-up for "Remarks," the Visitor said, "Now, I like a complete, well-rounded definition. You must know the thing, and then express it concisely and clearly. When you can do that with a common thing, it shows that you

think clearly and can express your thoughts concisely. It's a good thing, not only to get acquainted with new words, but to define such a common word as 'boat,' for instance." And he went on to talk encouragingly of other school matters, but chiefly to tell what he did when he was a boy, as I have since learned that many mature men have the habit of doing. Impressions made in childhood are lasting.

Then the teacher started in with, "And now, pupils, I want to say a few words to you." I do not recollect what she said, except that she expressed her appreciation of the Visitor's encouragement, but greatly regretted that he had not given us an ideal definition of the word “boat.”

That beat me and my new shoes; it woke the Visitor clear up, away up on his feet, and so suddenly that Frank and I snickered, and he looked

at me again for fifteen minutes, I felt; perhaps, it was really only a second, but I was subdued.

"Why, certainly, Miss Carrier, with the greatest of pleasure; it slipped my mind, when I got to talking of boyhood matters.

'Now, a boat is of course, we must first know what the thing is; that you already know. There are lots of them just over the hill, on the Babcock pond. Now, get the thing clearly in mind, and then we are prepared to define it. A boat-such as you see on that pond every day-is-a boat is -such a boat as Frank has [that made me jump; it was a close shot, for Frank sat next to me]. I saw him going down there the other day, with another boy and three girls, a good boat-load; going out after some of those pond-lilies, I guess. But, I forgot; that boat like Frank's is-a boatthen there's another one, a beautiful boat, newly painted, with the name' Lily' on it. I happened to think of that, speaking of pond-lilies. I don't know whether a girl by the name of Lily owns it, or whether some one of you roguish boys named it after your favorite girl."

We looked at the teacher; she smiled, and that told us that it was a joke, at which we might laugh, and we made the most of it. The boys all ya

ha-ed, the girls tittered, and even the Visitor chuckled, and took off his glasses and wiped them in a deliberate way. Then he continued:

"Well, you're a happy lot, I see; youth is the time to be happy. I was just as happy as you are, at your age-and-and-well, I don't know but I've had some pretty good times since then." He looked at the Deacon, and we boys noticed that the Deacon's twinkle turned to a grin, and we young folks laughed again, but not so loud; we were not quite sure that we could laugh on the Deacon's grin. The teacher's dimple showed a little, then she looked solemn, and the Visitor proceeded:

"As I was saying, you must first see the thing-and yet, one thing isn't enough. Your definition is apt to be one-sided, if you don't take into consideration many specimens of the class. For example, there's Frank's boat. He keeps it for use; always has a good string of fish when he comes home; and I don't suppose he cares so much about the appearance of the boat as does the owner of that one beautifully painted, with the name 'Lily' on it. But you young folks know that these small boats are not all. A definition that would apply to them might not apply to other boats. There's the mass of logs that the boys

have tied together, and go out swimming on, they stand up and dive off into deep water from these. I know how it was when I was a boy; couldn't dive very well, either. We call that a raft, but, after all, it is a boat, of course differing from the others. Then, you know, there's Uncle Standish's big boat, plain, but serviceable; he uses it to take fertilizer, and tools, and crops across the pond, to what he calls his 'westside lot.' And, of course, now you're all thinking about the great ships with their white sails, and the swift steamers, with their powerful engines, that are also boats. So, you see, we have increased our knowledge of boats by broader experiences. Now, we come back home, to the path down through the huckleberry bushes, to the old oak, where so many boats of all kinds that you best know are tied to the shore.

"Now, for the definition. A boat is, such boats as all these-I saw one tied by a rope to a maple tree-but I am wandering [and, by the way, some of the young folks, in spite of the absence of any dimple, were venturing on the twinkle, and tittering a little]; yes, now let me get a definition all around that will be clear cut and apply to any of these boats. A boat is—a boat is--is-a-why,