CHAPTER XIV.

THE YOUNG IDEA SHOOTS.


There was a region south, on the State road, partly in the townships
of Auburn and Mantua, that, like "the woods," long remained a
wilderness, and was known as the "Mantua Woods." Within the last year
or two, the whole of it had been sold and settled, with the average of
new settlers, strong, plain, simple people, with a sprinkling of the
rough, and a little element of the dangerous.

They had built there a neat frame school-house, just on the banks
of Bridge Creek, and were fully bent on availing themselves of the
benefits of the Ohio Common School Fund and laws.

Here, on one bleak, late November Monday morning, in front of the
new school-house, stood Bart Ridgeley, who appeared then and there
pursuant to a stipulation made with him, to keep their first school.
He undertook it with great doubt of his ability to instruct the
pupils, but with none of his capacity to manage them. He stood
surrounded by some forty young specimens of both sexes and all
ages--from rough, stalwart young men, bold and fearless in eye and
bearing, down to urchins of five. One-half were girls, and among them
several well-grown lasses, rustic and sweet.

There had also come up seven or eight of the principal patrons, to
see the young school-master and learn of the prospects. They were
evidently disappointed, and wondered what "Morey" could be thinking of
to hire that pale, green boy, with his neat dress and gloves, to come