The old schoolhouse, too, had its advantages and its disadvantages; of the latter, one was that there, both summer and winter, but more especially during the last-mentioned season, all the rude boys in the place thought they had a perfect right to congregate and annoy the girls in every possible way. But never mind, not a few wry faces we made at them, and not a few "blockheads" we pinned to their backs! Oh! I've had rare times in that old house and have seen rare sights, too, to say nothing of the fights which occasionally occurred. In these last brother Joe generally took the lead of one party, while Jim Brown commanded the other. Dire was the confusion which reigned at such times. Books were hurled from side to side. Then followed in quick succession shovel, tongs, poker, water cup, water pail, water and all; and to cap the climax, Jim Brown once seized the large iron pan, which stood upon the stove, half-filled with hot water, and hurled it in the midst of the enemy. Luckily nobody was killed, and but few wounded. Years in their rapid flight have rolled away since then, and he, my brother, is sleeping alone on the wild shore of California. "For scarcely had the sad tones died Which echoed the farewell, When o'er the western prairies There came a funeral knell; It said that he who went from us, While yet upon his brow The dew of youth was glistening, Had passed to heaven now." James Brown, too, is resting in the churchyard, near his own home, and 'neath his own native sky. CHAPTER II. THE BELLE OF RICE CORNER. Yes, Rice Corner had a belle, but it was not I. Oh, no, nobody ever mistook _me_ for a belle, or much of anything else, in fact; _I_ was simply "Mary Jane," or, if that was not concise enough, "Crazy Jane" set the matter all right. The belle of which I speak was a _bona fide_ one--fine complexion, handsome features, beautiful eyes, curling hair, and all. And yet in her composition there was something wanting, something very essential, too; for she lacked soul, and would at any time have sold her best friend for a flattering compliment. Still Carrie Howard was generally a favorite. The old people liked her because her sparkling eye and merry laugh brought back to them a gleam of youth; the young people liked her, because to dislike her would seem like envy; and I, who was nothing, liked her because she was pretty, and I greatly admired beauty, though I am not certain that I should not have liked a handsome rosebud quite as well as I did Carrie Howard's beautiful face, for beautiful she was.