Some of the neighbors were not as comfortable as these new farmers. One of them, living not very far off, had for a home a hastily constructed shanty, with a bunk for a bed, and innumerable rat-holes to let the smoke out when he had a fire. Others were “right smart” folk from Pennsylvania. Her main object, however, was not to be a farmer, but to become a district-school teacher. She soon secured a position; and began the itinerant life of a teacher, spending a few months in many different places. She received her salary every three months. Once, when there was a little delay in the payment, she requested it. The forty dollars were paid with the remark that “it was a powerful lot of money for only three months’ teaching.” The rough boys and untrained girls called forth all her patience, and the need of holding their attention forced her to adopt a straightforward method of expressing herself. Sometimes her experiences were ludicrous. One day, having to discipline a mischievous urchin, she put him on a stool near the fireplace, and then went on with the lessons, not noticing him very much. Looking to see what he was doing, she was surprised at his disappearance from the room. The question was, “Where has he gone?” It was answered by one of the scholars, “He’s gone up the chimney.” He had indeed crawled up the wide open fireplace, and, having thus escaped, was dancing a jig in front of the school-house. Miss Larcom taught in many different places--Waterloo, Lebanon, Sugar Creek, Woodburn--and generally the rate of payment was fourteen dollars a month. Board and lodging cost her one dollar and twenty-five cents a week. She did her own washing and ironing. The frequent change of schools made her form attachments for the children that had to be quickly broken. Speaking of a farewell at one school, she said, “The children cried bitterly when I dismissed them, whether for joy or sorrow it isn’t for me to say.” Her letters to Beverly were brimful of fun; they give, in an easy style, a vivid account of the hardships of these log-cabin days. The two following letters were written to her sisters, Abby and Lydia. TO MRS. ABBY O. HASKELL. LOOKING-GLASS PRAIRIE, May 19, 1846. DEAR SISTER ABBY,--I think it is your turn to have a letter now, so I’ve just snuffed the candle, and got all my utensils about me, and am going to see how quickly I can write a good long one.