"Yes, dear mother, perfectly. I hope to be something more than a village schoolmaster though, some day."

"Ah, Stephen, you were always too ambitious; it is better to be content with what we have."

That, I fear, I shall never be," replied Stephen. "You know, mother, no one ever made a name in this world without a little ambition, and I am determined to rise."

The widow shook her head-"Take care, take care," she said. "Pride comes before a fall."

G

CHAPTER XI.

DREAMS AND REALITIES.

STEPHEN returned to Chiltern fully resolved to devote himself more than ever to his work as a schoolmaster. During his journey his head was full of schemes for raising and improving the mental and moral tone of his pupils. By the time he reached Chiltern they had, in his imagination, become a model set of boys, able not only to read, write, and count with propriety, but to swim, boat, race, play cricket, and perform all sorts of athletic feats. They had also all become members of a sort of mutual improvement club, the object of which was to raise the youth of Chiltern into a perfectly pure moral atmosphere, far removed above the low amusements and sensual pleasures of their forefathers.

Stephen was so deep in these dreams, that he was quite startled when he found himself at his journey's end. He jumped out of the train at the little station; the delicious quiet, and the freshness of the air, struck him as most refreshing after the turmoil and heat of London.

He happened to see one of the subjects of his late meditations, loitering outside the station, in the shape of a young gentleman attired in corduroys, with almost flaxen hair standing straight on end, a face entirely

covered with freckles, a large mouth, and very small eyes shaded by lashes to match his hair. This youth was pursuing the study of physiology by spinning cockchafers. Stephen hailed him, and asked if he could lend a hand to carry some parcels to the village, which was a good two miles from the station.

The youth looked at the parcels and looked at the cockchafers-the latter were decidedly the most attractive-then a vision of possible coppers dawned in his mind; that decided him, and with very deliberate movements, and without vouchsafing any remark, he proceeded to shoulder an odd-shaped parcel, and trudged off.

After walking a few yards in silence, Stephen began to think he ought to improve the occasion; so he remonstrated with his pupil on the cruelty of sticking pins into cockchafers; but his words appeared to have little effect, for the boy stoutly maintained that "them beasts couldn't feel-he knew for certain sure they couldn't." He was evidently convinced that his knowledge of such matters must be superior to a Londoner's.

Stephen tried to explain, in the simplest way, that even insects had nerves and sensations, and he flattered himself that his companion was listening and trying to understand, when he suddenly burst into the middle of a sentence with

"I say, sur, I should be jolly glad if you would learn me how to swim-that I should now."

"I shall be very pleased to teach you how to swim, my boy," answered Stephen, who saw that for the present he had better drop his lecture, for evidently not one idea had been taken in.

The boy was delighted at having his request so readily granted, and Stephen gained another champion. They made an appointment to meet at the river side at seven o'clock the next morning, and parted excellent friends-Bill rejoicing in the possession of a silver sixpence of his own.

Before going to bed, Stephen unpacked the treasures he had brought from London-some fine casts, which he had chosen with the help of his kind friend Mr Hunt; all sorts of drawing materials; and besides that, some maps and diagrams which he had asked Mr Champneys to allow him to buy for the school.

True to his appointment, the schoolmaster was at the river side as the clock chimed seven the following morning, and there he found not only Bill, but Jim, and Sam, and Tom, and one or two others. This was likely to be a more popular lesson than many that were given in the school-room. Stephen welcomed them all; he was glad to get hold of the boys out of school hours.

They had a merry lesson. When it was over, and the boys were putting on their clothes, quite brightened up by their morning bath, Stephen said—

"Now, boys, you know I shall expect some payment for these lessons."

The grinning countenances instantly became very grave ones on hearing this announcement, and one or two of the boys showed symptoms of sidling off.

Stop, stop," cried Stephen, "you must all listen to what I have to say. I shall be delighted to teach you to swim, and will meet you here two mornings in the week as long as the weather keeps warm enough; but I shall expect something from you in return-and that

is, great pains and attention to your lessons in school. Now, do you all agree? The swimming boys are to be the best boys in the school. I will teach no boy to swim who is lazy with his lessons-that is the payment I expect, good conduct and painstaking at school. All those who agree to this hold up their hands."

Immediately every arm was thrust up.

"That's right," said the master. "Now, then, three cheers for the swimming-class - Hip, hip, hurrah!” And he waved his cap gallantly. His example was vigorously followed by the boys, and the swimmingclass seemed likely to prove a success. The master was fast becoming a favourite with the scholars; old Mr Sherwin had never been "up to fun" like this.

When Stephen returned to his little staring red brick mansion, he found a small child seated on the doorstep. The child herself was almost eclipsed by a sun-bonnet of ample dimensions, and an enormous bunch of flowers. The moment Stephen appeared, the child jumped to her feet and began bobbing, and then thrust out the bouquet at arm's-length. Stephen at once recognised his little friend Sally; he took her by the hand and led her into his house, and she watched gravely while he prepared his breakfast over his bachelor-stove. As she showed no disposition to go, Stephen placed the little damsel on a chair beside him, and let her share his breakfast, which she did with great relish. When the meal was over, and there was evidently nothing more to be had, Sally suddenly discovered that she must go home.

"Mammy want me, she do," she said.

"Mammy told me not to stay long with the kind man." Then