Squire Griffiths was a small man, with stiff gray hair, which he usually brushed in such a manner that it stood up straight in front, forming a palisade, so to speak. It might have been to increase his apparent height, or again it might have been regarded as adding to the dignity of his presence, for the squire had by no means a contemptible opinion of himself.

“Good-evening, Squire Griffiths,” said General Wall, advancing to meet him. “This is Mr. Howard, the young man whom Mr. Barclay has recommended to fill his place.”

Squire Griffiths drew a pair of glasses from his pocket, and, adjusting them in a leisurely manner, scrutinized the face of our hero.

“How old be you?” he inquired, rather unceremoniously.

“Nearly sixteen,” answered Walter, a little embarrassed by the abruptness of the question.

“Seems to me you’re enterin’ on the teacher’s purfession a leetle airly,” remarked the squire.

“Yes, sir, I am rather young,” answered Walter, “but I hope I am qualified, and if I undertake the school I shall do my best to succeed.”

“Of course,” said the squire. “I expected you’d say that. Why, there’s some of the scholars could thrash you easy.”

“Perhaps so,” said Walter, smiling; “but I shouldn’t let them do it without resisting.”

“You look as if you’d got some grit, to be sure,” said the squire, reflectively. “Ever taught afore?”

“No, sir.”

“Of course, experience would be desirable in a teacher,” interrupted the general at this point; “but everybody has to begin, and some succeed very well from the first. Mr. Howard is a good Latin scholar, and that is in his favor.”

“I don’t think much of Latin, for my part,” said the squire. “If a man knows how to talk English, that’s as much as he actilly needs.”

“I don’t quite agree with you there, Squire Griffiths,” said the general. “My boy John is reading CÆsar’s works, and I want him to be a fine Latin scholar.”

“Was CÆsar a Latin?” asked Squire Griffiths.

“He used the Latin language,” said Walter.

“Well, maybe it’s all right to study Latin,” said the squire, “though I’ve lived man and boy more’n sixty year, and have got along without it.”

Squire Griffiths had rather a limited idea of the range of education, and thought if a boy could read and write and cipher, he was prepared to go out into the world.

“Latin is considered indispensable to a thorough education,” said General Wall.

“There’s a lot of new-fangled things come up since my day,” said the squire. “My Amandy says she wants to study botany. I asked her if it made the flowers smell any sweeter to know about ’em. Then there’s algebrey, or some sich nonsense.”

“By the way, Mr. Howard, can you teach algebra?” asked General Wall.

“Yes, sir.”

“John has not commenced it yet, but if you would advise it, I will buy him a book.”

“I should think he was old enough to study it,” said Walter.

General Wall was evidently disposed to employ Walter. He feared that if he was not engaged some teacher would be procured who would be unable to carry John forward in the advanced course upon which he had entered.

“Well, Squire Griffiths, shall we proceed to the examination?” he suggested. “Dr. Owens will be unable to attend our meeting this evening, so that duty will be thrown upon us.”

“I haven’t no objection, general. You may start, and I’ll come in with a few questions bimeby.”

“I will ask you to read first, Mr. Howard,” said the general. “Here’s a book. You can open it anywhere, and read.”

The book chanced to be an historical work, written in a style clear and flowing. Walter read it easily and fluently for half a page.

“I think that will do,” said General Wall. “Are you satisfied, Squire Griffiths?”

“Pretty fair,” said the squire, patronizingly; “but there was one word which I think Mr. Howard pronounced a leetle wrong.”

“Which word was it?” inquired Walter, somewhat surprised.

“Will you read that last sentence over again, Mr. Howard?” said the squire.

“Certainly, sir,” and Walter read as follows:

“The army of Napoleon suffered less from the military forces which Russia opposed to him, than from the frigidity of the climate.”

“It’s one of the last words,” said the squire, “what you call frigidity.”

“Is not that correct?” asked Walter.

“I always say frig-i-dity,” said the squire, giving a hard sound to the letter “g” and emphasizing the last syllable but one.

Walter found it difficult not to laugh, and General Wall, who was a considerably better scholar than his associate, said, “I think, squire, that yours is the old-fashioned pronunciation, and that Mr. Howard’s is now more in use.”

“Maybe you are right,” said the squire. “For my part, I like the old ways best. Still I suppose people in gineral will like the new-fangled ways.”

The squire indulged in no further questioning, and General Wall said, “Will you ask a few words in spelling, Squire Griffiths?”

Squire Griffiths readjusted his spectacles, and, opening the book, gave out in a loud voice:

“Ridiculous,” emphasizing the third syllable.

Walter spelled it correctly.

The next word the squire pronounced spet-tikle; but Walter, inferring that he meant spectacle, spelled that word.

Here the squire looked off the book, and gave out the word Philadelphia.

“P-h-i-l, phil, a, phila, d-e-l, del, philadel, p-h-i-a, Philadelphia.”

“Is that right, General Wall?” asked the squire.

“I believe so.”

“I’ve always spelled it p-h-y, phy,” said the squire.

“I happen to have a Philadelphia paper here,” said General Wall. “We’ll look at that.”

The result, of course, was to decide the matter in Walter’s favor.

“I think the other way must be right, too,” said the squire. “I’ve got a nephew there, and that’s the way he always writes it. On the whole, I’m satisfied with the young man’s readin’ and spellin’. Suppose we proceed to geography.”

“Very well. Mr. Howard, will you bound Russia?”

Walter did so promptly.

“Very well; that is right, I believe, Squire Griffiths.”

“I believe he didn’t mention Italy, on the west.”

“Italy is at some distance from Russia, squire,” said General Wall. “Perhaps you are thinking of Turkey.”

“Maybe I was. Did he say Turkey?”

“Yes, he mentioned it. Where are the Alps, Mr. Howard?”

“In Switzerland, chiefly.”

“Correct.”

“Which is the longest river in the United States?” asked the squire.

“The Mississippi.”

“Very good,” said the squire, as if he hardly anticipated a correct answer to so difficult a question.

Squire Griffiths now essayed a more ambitious flight.

“Where are the Amazon Mountains?” he asked.

“The Amazon Mountains?” repeated Walter, puzzled.

“Yes. Where are they?”

“I believe the Amazon is a river, Squire Griffiths,” suggested General Wall, with suavity. “You are probably thinking of the Andes Mountains.”

“Yes, I was,” said the squire, a little discomposed, for he did not know where the Andes Mountains were, and was surprised to learn that the Amazon was a river.

“In South America,” said Walter.

“Correct, is it not?” asked General Wall.

“Quite so,” said the squire, glad to have got out of his quandary so well.

“What are the two great rivers of Africa, Mr. Howard?” asked the General.

“The Nile and the Niger.”

“And what great desert is in Africa?”

“The desert of Sahara.”

“That is just the question I was going to ask,” said the squire, who felt a little jealous of the more prominent part General Wall was taking in the examination. I am sorry to say, however, that the assertion was without foundation, as he had never before heard of Sahara, to his knowledge.

“I have asked all the questions I wished,” said General Wall. “I leave you to finish the examination in geography.”

“Mr. Howard, where is Cape Horn?” asked the squire, straightening himself up and clearing his throat. He asked this question with confidence, because he happened to know the answer.

“At the southern point of South America,” said Walter.

“That will do, General Wall. Mr. Howard appears to be very well posted in geography. It was always a favorite study of mine, and I am gratified to find him so perficient.”

The examination closed with a few questions in arithmetic, which were satisfactorily answered.

“Mr. Howard,” said General Wall, “we are satisfied with the result of the examination. We consider you competent to teach, so far as your education is concerned. We will take Mr. Barclay’s word for your being a good Latin scholar. We authorize you to commence teaching as soon as he gives up the school.”

“Just so,” said the squire. “I hope you’ll get along with the big boys.”

“I will do my best,” answered our hero.

As he walked home, he could not help wondering how such an ignoramus as Squire Griffiths came to be selected as a school trustee.