Page:Tea, a poem.pdf/16

16 house stood in a rather lonely but pleasan, situaiionsituaiion [sic], just at the foot of a woody hill with brook running close by, and a formidable birch tree growing at one end of it. From hence the low murmur of his pupil's voices, conning over their lessons, might be heard in a drousy summer's day, like the hum of a bee-hive; interrupted now and then by the authoritative voice, of the master, in the thethe [sic] tone of menace or command; or, peradventure, by the appalling sound of the birch, as he urged some tardy loiterer along the flowery path of knowledge. Truth to say, he was a conscientious man, that ever bore in mind the golden maxim, "Spare the road and the child."—Ichabod Crane's scholars certainly were not spoiled.

I would not have it imagined, however that he was one of these cruel potentates of the school, who joy in the smart of their subjects; on the contrary, he administred justice with discrimination rather than severity; taking the burthen off backs of the weak and laying it on those of the strong. Your mere puny stripling, that winced at the least flourish of the rod, was passed by with indulgence; but the claims of justice were satisfied, by inflicting a double portion