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Page 26
"He was buried in one of the crowded cemeteries of London," said
Grandfather. "As he left no children, his estate was inherited by his
nephew, from whom is descended the present Marquis of Normandy. The
noble Marquis is not aware, perhaps, that the prosperity of his family
originated in the successful enterprise of a New England ship
carpenter."
CHAPTER III.
"At the death of Sir William Phips," proceeded Grandfather, "our chair
was bequeathed to Mr. Ezekiel Cheever, a famous school-master in Boston.
This old gentleman came from London in 1637, and had been teaching
school ever since; so that there were now aged men, grandfathers like
myself, to whom Master Cheever had taught their alphabet. He was a
person of venerable aspect, and wore a long white beard.
"Was the chair placed in his school?" asked Charley.
"Yes, in his school," answered Grandfather; "and we may safely say that
it had never before been regarded with such awful reverence--no, not
even when the old governors of Massachusetts sat in it. Even you,
Charley, my boy, would have felt some respect for the chair, if you had
seen it occupied by this famous school-master."
And here Grandfather endeavored to give his auditors an idea how matters
were managed in schools above a hundred years ago. As this will probably
be an interesting subject to our readers, we shall make a separate
sketch of it, and call it
THE OLD-FASHIONED SCHOOL.
Now imagine yourselves, my children, in Master Ezekiel Cheever's
school-room. It is a large, dingy room, with a sanded floor, and is
lighted by windows that turn on hinges, and have little diamond shaped
panes of glass. The scholars sit on long benches, with desks before
them. At one end of the room is a great fire-place, so very spacious,
that there is room enough for three or four boys to stand in each of the
chimney corners. This was the good old fashion of fire-places, when
there was wood enough in the forests to keep people warm, without their
digging into the bowels of the earth for coal.
It is a winter's day when we take our peep into the school-room. See
what great logs of wood have been rolled into the fire-place, and what a
broad, bright blaze goes leaping up the chimney! And every few moments,
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
ceiling. They are blackened with the smoke of many years already.
[Illustration]
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 felt, without being too intensely hot. How stately the
old chair looks, as if it remembered its many famous occupants, but yet
were conscious that a greater man is sitting in it now! Do you see the
venerable school-master, severe in aspect, with a black scull-cap on his
head, like an ancient Puritan, and the snow of his white beard drifting
down to his very girdle? What boy would dare to play, or whisper, or
even glance aside from his book, while Master Cheever is on the
look-out, behind his spectacles! For such offenders, if any such there
be, a rod of birch is hanging over the fire-place, and a heavy ferule
lies on the master's desk.
And now school is begun. What a murmur of multitudinous tongues, like
the whispering leaves of a wind-stirred oak, as the scholars con over
their various tasks! Buz, buz, buz! Amid just such a murmur has Master
Cheever spent above sixty years: and long habit has made it as pleasant
to him as the hum of a bee-hive, when the insects are busy in the
sunshine.
Now a class in Latin is called to recite. Forth steps a row of
queer-looking little fellows, wearing square-skirted coats, and small
clothes, with buttons at the knee. They look like so many grandfathers
in their second childhood. These lads are to be sent to Cambridge, and
educated for the learned professions. Old Master Cheever has lived so
long, and seen so many generations of school-boys grow up to be men,
that now he can almost prophesy what sort of a man each boy will be. One
urchin shall hereafter be a doctor, and administer pills and potions,
and stalk gravely through life, perfumed with assafoetida. Another
shall wrangle at the bar, and fight his way to wealth and honors, and in
his declining age, shall be a worshipful member of his Majesty's
council. A third--and he is the Master's favorite--shall be a worthy
successor to the old Puritan ministers, now in their graves; he shall
preach with great unction and effect, and leave volumes of sermons, in
print and manuscript, for the benefit of future generations.
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