There were classes of a sort, although nobody, broadly speaking,
studied the same book with anybody else, or had arrived at the
same degree of proficiency in any one branch of learning.
Rebecca in particular was so difficult to classify that Miss
Dearborn at the end of a fortnight gave up the attempt
altogether. She read with Dick Carter and Living Perkins, who
were fitting for the academy; recited arithmetic with lisping
little "Thuthan Thimpthon;" geography with Emma Jane Perkins, and
grammar after school hours to Miss Dearborn alone. Full to the
brim as she was of clever thoughts and quaint fancies, she made
at first but a poor hand at composition. The labor of writing and
spelling, with the added difficulties of punctuation and
capitals, interfered sadly with the free expression of ideas.
She took history with Alice Robinson's class, which was attacking
the subject of the Revolution, while Rebecca was bidden to begin
with the discovery of America. In a week she had mastered the
course of events up to the Revolution, and in ten days had
arrived at Yorktown, where the class had apparently established
summer quarters. Then finding that extra effort would only result
in her reciting with the oldest Simpson boy, she deliberately
held herself back, for wisdom's ways were not those of
pleasantness nor her paths those of peace if one were compelled
to tread them in the company of Seesaw Simpson. Samuel Simpson
was generally called Seesaw, because of his difficulty in making
up his mind. Whether it were a question of fact, of spelling, or
of date, of going swimming or fishing, of choosing a book in the
Sunday-school library or a stick of candy at the village store,
he had no sooner determined on one plan of action than his wish
fondly reverted to the opposite one. Seesaw was pale, flaxen
haired, blue eyed, round shouldered, and given to stammering when