CHAPTER III.

I

SELECT SCHOOL ESTABLISHED.

N the fall of 1836, while chopping with his father and

brothers near the home, a gentleman came to the woods.

After a pleasant "good-morning" he said, "I have come into town to start a select school, and would like to have you send this boy," designating Jonathan. "I can't afford it," said the father. Bethuel Church, for this was the man, thought a moment: "We shall need wood, and I will take that for the tuition." How the boy's heart bounded when the father said, "If he will chop it, he can go." As four-foot wood was only fifty cents a cord, it would take six cords to pay the $3.00 tuition. If it had taken sixty it would not have daunted the boy. There was light and life ahead. But as father and mother talked over before him the pros and cons in the evening, it was made evident that he had nothing suitable to wear, and new clothing was out of the question, so father said, "Jonathan, I believe you must give it up." Argument was not thought of in that New England household, but the tears would come in spite of all the manly will to repress them. His father seeing this, and remembering his promise, said, "If he feels like that, he must go." His roundabout was made as presentable as possible, and he went, carrying a chair for his seat, as each of the others did. He has often said that with the memory of that experience he could never refuse taking wood as tuition from students. The encouragement thus given might be the turning point in some other life.

Two miles over a high, bleak hill, thinly clad, and through snowdrifts often covering the fences, might not seem a pleasant prospect to the schoolboy now, but to him it was a daily joy,

and, though he dared not, from fear of ridicule, eat the cold johnnycake that was his dinner, till on his return home at night, he was not hungry. There were no desks, so each pupil had to hold his books and slate as best he could till boards could be fitted up for that purpose. There were thirty-seven pupils, all gathered from Alfred and vicinity, save two from Genesee and one from Rhode Island. Allen was the youngest in the school, and the least advanced, so he was obliged to recite alone in arithmetic, but each lesson was perfect. After a week Mr. Church, looking over the pupils at at work even beyond the others. Then go into the first class," and was one of the best in the most advanced class. In this select school blackboards and other new methods were first introduced.

their work, saw young Allen
"You there?"
"You there?". "Yes, sir."
before the term was out he

FIRST DECLAMATION.

Of his first experience in elocution or declamation it is written: "Then came compositions. Our young student often found himself, as Virgil says, 'a goose among swans,' for he could hardly write his own name, much less a composition. As a compromise he was allowed to give a recitation. Yet without any previous acquaintance with anything like elocution, he had no idea how to proceed. When called upon for his piece he commenced to speak from the place where he was sitting. 'Come out on the floor,' said the teacher. Utterly bewildered, he grabbed a fellow pupil by the collar for support. 'Let go!' cried the pupil. He did let go, but saw or heard nothing till his selected paragraph-a fine passage from a standard author on Alfred the Great-had been 'elocuted' almost at one breath." From this experience dates his first determination to make a speaker of himself. In his boyish way he put into this new ambition the same ideas of perfection that characterized everything he did. He committed to memory many passages from his favorite authors, and began writing out his own ideas on various subjects, and then practiced speaking them. He not only carefully noted the subjects of sermons and lectures that

he heard, but studied attentively the manner of their expression and delivery. Elder Walter Gillett was his ideal as a speaker.

Mr. Church was the right man for such an enterprise, initiative, positive, enthusiastic, and having great faith in himself and his pupils. He preached at the church, as well as taught the school, during the winter, and his constant theme was education. His private talks to both old and young were of the needs in this community for a high school or academy. Charles Hartshorn, a brother of Mrs. Sheldon, in whose house the school was held, was just from the East and taught the district school a mile away. These two men most earnestly sympathized in all intellectual work. A debating society was formed, having its meetings in the schoolhouse evenings, where old and young from all the country round were invited to discuss questions of public interest, especially those pertaining to education. So far-reaching was this influence that the next winter each district for many miles around had its debating society.

At the close of the term there was an earnest religious awakening, in which many found the Prince of Peace. Jonathan Allen was one of that number, and with the inspiration of that teacher, and that winter's work, he came into line with progressive thought, never going back, but always pressing forward with a strong, high purpose, seldom found in a boy of only fourteen.

MAKING MAPLE SUGAR.

The following spring he went into the sugar camp, always glad when an uncommon flow of sap made it necessary to boil all night, as he would then have a quiet time to read or study by the firelight. Large maple trees made a heavy percentage of the forest, and were a source of comfort and profit to the farmers. As soon as a few warm days came in March, the woods were penetrated through the snow by the ox-sleds loaded with sap-buckets. The trees were tapped, a clearing made for the fire, and a rude stone furnace built. On this rested the large iron kettle in which the sap was boiled. A hut was built as near the fire as possible, where a few bundles of straw made seats by day and often a bed at night.

PLEASURE AND WORK.

Though so earnest in study, he entered into all the sports and games among the young people, for this boyish nature was overflowing with a quaint humor. Fox and geese, hide and seek, ten men morris, hunting and fishing occupied their spare hours. The raccoon was a source of great mischief in all the fields and gardens, and many a night was spent in trapping and hunting these mischievous marauders. Wood could be sold at the village, but sugar, cheese, and lumber were taken to Bath and the Genesee Valley to exchange for wheat and household necessities not to be procured in this region. The general farm work began early in the spring, when the stones were picked up from the grass lands. Plowing, sowing, planting, and hoeing followed. Absorbed in plans for the future, which he kept to himself, young Allen would rest now and then on his hoehandle, so that these daydreams became quite a source of pleasantry with the other workers. As soon as old enough to carry the chain, he often helped his father in surveying, thus early learning the rudiments of this branch of mathematics. Going on with the study, he in time became independent in it, and afterward taught surveying in the Institution.

The winter's work of 1836 being completed, the general interest aroused by Bethuel Church and some of the older students, led to the publication of a paper on education, edited by Daniel C. Babcock and Amos W. Coon, and printed by Orra Stillman. These, with other influences, had to do with the erection of the building known among the students as the "Horned Bug." Rev. James R. Irish, a student from Union College, came to teach in the fall of 1837, teaching for two years and preaching much of the time at the church. Jonathan was always first in his classes, and his schoolmates tell how ready he was to assist any of them in their studies. He was particularly clear in mathematical demonstration. In this way he not only learned to teach, but to plod patiently with the slow but earnest students, leading them on to success.

A lumber mill was built on Vandemark Creek, giving to the farmers an opporunity to earn something when their teams were not needed for the farm work. Father Allen would go to the mill, get his lumber, and return home at night ready for an early start with the load on the following morning. It took three days to go to Bath and return, and four to go to Hammondsport. As there were several teams going from the neighborhood, Jonathan was often put in charge of the load, much of the way being through the primeval forest. In these long, lonely rides he learned much of nature in her varying moods. The birds were his especial friends; he knew the note of each with a certainty that never failed. How he would welcome those of earliest spring! How he exulted in their freedom as their graceful wings cut the air! He never would allow the children a canary as an imprisoned pet. When the cuckoo made her rare visits to our orchard, he never failed to call me to share his pleasure; the thrill of music that filled every tree top with melody, made the morning hours the richest of the day. His love of early hours grew with his advancing years.

WILLIAM C. KENYON AS TEACHER.

Mr. Irish having been ordained and taken the pastorate of the church, William C. Kenyon took control of the school in the spring term of 1839, with twenty-five scholars. For several terms young Allen was his pupil, and was impressed by this wonderful teacher. Later he writes of him: "He was one of those slender, compact, nervous, magnetic men; a man very earnest, very incisive, somewhat radical, even eccentric, if you please, yet very genuine. The first sight of him on his arrival here to take charge of the school, stirred one young life to the core. The first address that we heard him deliver roused and thrilled us as no other, and we worked for days as in a dream; his teaching was suggestive, electric, inspiring." Rev. James R. Irish said of Kenyon, "He will get up, turn around, and sit down, while I am getting up."

At seventeen young Allen was prepared for teaching, and began his work in a district some eight miles from home.

Many