When I was fourteen years of age the district school was taught by one Dowling--an Irishman--full six feet in height, a fine specimen of physical manhood, and an excellent teacher. He was employed by the Directors not only to teach, but also, if necessary, to subjugate the rebelious spirit theretofore existing among the larger boys attending the school. His presence and firm and courteous manner dispelled all fear of insubordination. An incident occurred at that school which has remained fresh in my memory. There was a boy attending by the name of Joe Johnson. In age Joe was between fifteen and sixteen. He was quiet, meditative, awkward--the victim of many tricks, the butt of many jokes. One day Dowling ordered all who could write to turn to their desks and within half an hour to produce a verse of original poetry, or as near an approach to it as they were able to go. We had learned that for Dowling to command was for us to obey. I was sitting next to Joe. After meditating a few moments he rapidly wrote the following:-- "I saw the devil flying to the south, With Mr. Dowling in his mouth; He paused awhile and dropped the fool, And left him here to teach a common school." I looked over Joe's shoulder and read as he wrote, and when he had completed the verse--oblivious to the conditions--I laughed outright. Mr. Dowling, with vigorous application of his hazel regulator, soon restored my reckoning, and indicated my true latitude and longitude. Mr. Dowling read Joe's poetry to the school, to show the ingratitude of the pupil to his preceptor; but the matter was otherwise received by the older pupils, and it was dropped. This incident no doubt revealed to Joe that he possessed poetic ability of the highest order. Joe, after he had arrived at manhood's estate, published a small volume of poems full of wit, beauty of description, and pleasing satire.