The extent of these evils may be perceived from the report, which says of one county about as well supplied as any, out of _eighty-seven_ districts only _twenty_ schoolhouses have provided means for keeping their wood dry. Another says, “At the commencement of the winter term of our schools, some one of the trustees generally furnishes a load of green wood, perhaps his own proportion. The teacher proceeds till this is exhausted, and he is compelled to notify his patrons of the entire destitution of wood. After meeting his school, and shivering over expiring embers till the hope of a supply is exhausted, he dismisses the school for one, two, or three days, and sometimes for a week, before any inhabitant finds time to get another load of green wood. With such wood it is impossible to keep the schoolroom at a proper temperature. The scholars, at first, crowd around the stove, suffering extremely with cold, and then are driven as far off as they can get, in a high state of perspiration, and almost suffocated with heat. Our schools in this country suffer much from such methods of procuring fuel. The time which is lost in school hours by the use of green wood, I think will include near one fourth of the whole time.” Another says, “The teacher found abundant employment in stuffing the old stove with green birch and elm, cut as occasion required by the teacher and the boys. A continual coughing was kept up by nearly seven-eighths of the children, and the teacher apologised for want of order by saying, ‘they could not usually do much in stormy weather till afternoon, when the fire would get a going.’ On this occasion, one trustee and two of the inhabitants of the district were present an hour, when, getting frozen out, they asked to be excused, and left the children to suffer, saying, ‘We did not think our house was so uncomfortable. Some glass must be got, and a load of dry wood’” Some of the statements of these superintendents, as to the order and neatness of their schoolhouses, are no less lamentable. One remarks, that “some of them, as to neatness, resemble the domicil for swine.” Another describes one schoolhouse as “having the clapboards torn off, the door just ready to fall, an aperture in the roof where the chimney once was, slabs with a pair of clubs at each end for legs, and so high no child could touch foot to the floor, rickety desks falling to ruin, the plaster torn off, and the whole covered with dirt, and as filthy as the street itself.” But this is not all. “This house is situated in a district of wealthy farmers.” Another says, “It is a startling truth, that very many of our schoolhouses furnish no private retreat whatever for teacher or scholar. Thus is one side of the schoolhouse, and, in some instances, the doorstep, rendered a scene more disgusting than the filth of a pig-sty.”