Sexton Blackie was a man who could command respect in all weathers.
Still it must have been a relief to him to be allowed to work in a
room that was to be used only for school purposes; where the walls
were not lined with cubby-beds and shelves filled with pots and
pans and tools; where there was no obstructing loom in front of the
window to shut out the daylight, and where women neighbours could
not drop in for a friendly chat over the coffee cups during school
hours.

Here the walls were hung with illustrations of Bible stories, with
animal pictures and portraits of Swedish kings. Here the children
had little desks with low benches, and did not have to sit perched
up round a high table, where their noses were hardly on a level
with the edge. And here Sexton Blackie had a desk all to himself,
with spacious drawers and compartments for his record-books and
papers. Now he looked rather more impressive during school hours
than in former days, when he had often heard lessons while seated
upon the edge of a hearth, with a roaring fire at his back and the
children huddled on the floor in front of him. Here he had a fixed
place for the blackboard and hooks for maps and charts, so that he
did not have to stand them up against doors and sofa backs. He
knew, too, where he had his goose quills and could teach the
children how to make strokes and curves, so that each one of them
would some day be as fine a penman as himself. It was even possible
to train the children to rise in a body and march out in line, like
soldiers. Indeed, no end of improvements could be introduced now
that the schoolhouse was finished.

Glad as was every one of the new school, the parents did not feel
altogether at ease in the presence of their children, after they