Acquaintance with this teacher did not improve on the first opinion of him, but the reverse. He was tall and lean as if he had been brought up on milk with the cream removed. His complexion was almost milky white, or rather a pale yellow, sometimes whiter and sometimes yellower. The color of his hair was not much better than that of his skin. He had the most juvenile moustache, and a few straggling unneighborly hairs at the sides of his face, that he seemed to be nursing with great care to bring to maturity. Many were the sly jokes of the boys on those whiskers. His clothes were of the strictest cleric cut, a parson’s waistcoat, a great high collar that was ever threatening to cut his ears off, but refused to do the deed out of sheer pity. I cannot but think, heathen as I am, that a parson, of all men, should always be a well favored, as well favored in body as well as mind, a manly man, of whom God or nature need not be ashamed and to whom the people would listen without disgust or pity. Another thing I could not understand why most of this class should always have that far away pious look, a ministerial drawl or holy moaning tone. Whether these are produced by their longings for heaven, or their food, or their devotions, or what I cannot tell. Their tone or drone and appearance, all goes to show that their profession has got the better of their manhood. To return to the school. This teacher had really nothing in him or about him of a parson, except his manner and his clothes, and the clothes were the most valuable part of him. He evidently realized this himself, for, lacking in every respect what pertained to a real priest, he tried to make up in his dress and posing. By his manner, at first sight, not later, he would be taken to be one of God’s saints; and by his clothes, that he was the confidential adviser and chaplain of some great Archbishop or the Bishop himself. He went around the building or through our play grounds with his eyes turned towards the earth as if in holy meditation, appearing as meek as Moses was said to be, but an hour afterward when some of the boys were called before the beefy principal for some loud laughter or slight violation of the rules, we knew that “Yellow Skin” had been telling. How we learned to think of that man! not with hatred for he was not worthy of that, but with contempt, probably the same feeling that a noble mastiff has for a mangy pariah cur. He was lurking everywhere, with his eyes towards the ground as if searching for some lost jewel but we came to know that he always had his side eye upon us. Outside his classes he never spoke to the boys, as this might have compromised his clerical dignity. He never accused any one openly and the principal never revealed his informant, but any boy of us knew who had told. I always thanked my guiding star that I was not in any of his classes. By instinct I kept out of his range as much as possible.