Let me exculpate my unfortunate hero from all attempts to win the affections of his beautiful pupil. On the contrary, it seems a mystery that his oddities and awkwardness should have awoke any other emotion than pity in the heart of May—for he was so terribly ungraceful in her presence—why if he merely spoke to her his voice was so low and tremulous, that she had really to approach her little head quite near to catch a word he said—and as for his scholarship, you would have thought him a dunce, so many egregrious blunders did he commit in hearing her recitations—and he could no more guide her little hand in making those pretty and delicate strokes which marked her copy-book, than he could fly to the moon. You would have been amazed that such a fine, handsome young fellow, could have made such a booby of himself! However, never were scholars blessed with so indulgent a master, and his popularity rose in proportion, while as your lovers are for the most part but little given to the “flesh-pots of Egypt,” he was pronounced by all economical housewives upon whose hospitality he was semi-monthly thrown, to possess the most accommodating taste, and could dine from beef and cabbage, pork and parsnips, peas porridge, or mush and milk, with equal relish. I am sorry to say, that at first May joined in the laugh with her mischievous school-mates at the oddities of the master, and contrived many little tricks to vex him. Yet if she raised her eyes a moment from her book, she was sure to encounter those of Harry fixed upon her, with an expression so mournful, yet so tender, as bathed her cheek with blushes, and her eyes with tears of contrition. Her frolicks therefore soon yielded to a more pensive mood. She could not tell why, but the thoughtless mirth of her companions vexed and annoyed her—she no longer joined in those idle pranks, which had for their object the ridicule of the master, but gave way to sudden fits of musing and abstraction. When she heard his footstep approaching, her heart beat audibly, and in her class she no longer raised her saucy eyes to _mis_construe her lesson, but scarcely lifted their drooping lids as she answered in faint tones the questions put to her. In short, Love had conquered the merriest and most mischievous maiden that ever laughed at his wiles! One day in early spring, ere the snow-drop or the crocus, had dared to lift their pretty heads above the snowy mantle in which old winter had so long kept them snug and warm, May placed in her bosom a bright and beautiful rose-bud. It was the first her little conservatory had yielded, and as she that morning for the first time discovered it peeping through the rich green leaves, she thought she had never seen any thing so fresh and beautiful. Carefully plucking it from the luxuriant branch, she bore off the fragrant trophy to exhibit to her young companions.