himself at the "Eclectic Institute," in the farm-labourer's clothes
which were his only existing raiment. He asked to see the "president" of
the school, and told him plainly that he wished to come there for
education, but that he was poor, and if he came, he must work for his
living. "What can you do?" asked the president. "Sweep the floors, light
the fires, ring the bell, and make myself generally useful," answered
the young backwoodsman. The president, pleased with his eagerness,
promised to try him for a fortnight; and at the end of the fortnight,
Garfield had earned his teaching so well that he was excused from all
further fees during the remainder of his stay at the little institute.
His post was by no mean an easy one, for he was servant-of-all-work as
well as student; but he cared very little for that as long as he could
gain the means for self-improvement.

Hiram was a small town, as ugly as its name. Twelve miles from a
railway, a mere agricultural centre, of the rough back-country sort, all
brand new and dreary looking, with a couple of wooden churches, half a
dozen wooden shops, two new intersecting streets with wooden sidewalks,
and that was all. The "institute" was a square brick block, planted
incongruously in the middle of an Indian-corn plantation; and the
students were the sons and daughters of the surrounding farmers, for (as
in most western schools) both sexes were here educated together.

But the place suited Garfield far better than an older and more
dignified university would have done. The other students knew no more
than he did, so that he did not feel himself at a disadvantage; they
were dressed almost as plainly as himself; and during the time he was at
Hiram he worked away with a will at Latin, Greek, and the higher
mathematics, so as to qualify himself for a better place hereafter.
Meanwhile, the local carpenter gave him plenty of planing to do, with