"You have been for a long time discussing the site of a new
school-house, in place of the old one which stands so near the marshes,
that it is a wonder your children have not all died with fever and ague.
Some of you want it on the hill--some under the hill--some in one place,
and some in another. Nobody wants it near his own premises. A
school-house with a lot of howling children is not a desirable neighbor
to most people. For my part I don't object to it. I like children."

Here he stopped suddenly as the image of a child he had never seen came
before him and choked his utterance, while the people looked at each
other, and wondered how long he had been so fond of children. It was
generally conceded that he did not care for them--disliked them in
fact--and he had never been known to notice one in any way. Surely he
had been too near the claret bowls. He detected the thought of those
nearest to him, and continued:

"I am not one to show all I feel. It is not my nature. I am interested
in children, and as proof of it I will tell you my plan. There are two
acres of land on the south side of the park. I fenced it off for an
artificial pond, but gave it up. There is a spring of good water there,
with plenty of shade trees for the children to play under. I will give
this land for the new school-house."

Here he was obliged to stop, the cheers were so deafening. When they
subsided he went on rapidly:

"I will build the house, too. Such an one as will not shame District No.
5 in Crompton. It shall be a model house, well lighted and ventilated,
with broad, comfortable seats, especially for the little ones, whose