Sam was almost beside himself for joy; it was the only one thing now wanting in his cup of happiness. His deficiency in every kind of knowledge acquired from books, was felt by him daily as a sore evil. 'If he could only read and write, and calculate like Jim Montjoy,' was for ever coming into his mind, a wish unalloyed by envy or any other evil feeling towards Jim, but filling his heart with sadness. Old Sam Cutter was no less rejoiced, for his boys were but little in advance of Sam Oakum, and now that they had taken such a favourable turn in their course of conduct, the old man felt that a school would be a crowning mercy. Some little difficulty presented itself as to where the teacher should take up his abode; there were good reasons why Mr. Cutter could not offer a residence under his own roof; the house was but small, _too small_, he found for himself, sometimes, and he durst not venture upon an addition. Sam Oakum would have rejoiced could his home have afforded accommodations such as he might ask a stranger to partake of, and a person of Mr. Tracy's appearance. Mrs. Montjoy's was the only place that Sam could think of where any thing like comfort could be had. 'I know--I know all that, Sam; Mrs. Montjoy is a nice woman, and the house, though small, is tidy-like, and the boys are good fellows, a credit to the place; but you see, Sam, we must 'be wise as sarpants' about this business. You know how the folks feel, full of their jealousies and nonsense; and if the teacher should go there, they would say that he felt himself above folks, that he was too good for the like of them, and all that, and you see,' looking at Mr. Tracy, 'we've got to take folks as they are, and make the best on 'em.' And then turning his eye towards Sam, 'The Widow Andrews' is the place. Bill, you know, is gone; sorry for that, but he's gone, and no help for it; the old woman is queer, but where is one on 'em that ain't, sometimes? Yet she is pretty good in the main, and she'll be proud to do her best; and if the gentleman won't be frightened at a little squall once in a while, he'll git along pretty comfortable there: now, don't you think so, Sam?'