Bound to Rise | Page 9

a plain, straightforward way, for he
thoroughly understood it.
"Very well," said the schoolmaster, for this, rather than teacher, is the
country name of the office. "Now, Ephraim, do you think you can
explain it?"
"I don't know, sir," said Ephraim, dubiously."
"Suppose you try. You may take the same sum."
Ephraim advanced to the board with reluctance, for he was not
ambitious, and had strong doubts about his competence for the task."
"Put down 625."
Ephraim did so.
"Now extract the square root. What do you do first?"
"Divide it into two figures each."

"Divide it into periods of two figures each, I suppose you mean. Well,
what will be the first period?"
"Sixty-two," answered Ephraim.
"And what will be the second?"
"I don't see but one other figure."
"Nor I. You have made a mistake. Harry, show to point it off."
Harry Walton did so.
"Now what do you do next?"
"Divide the first figure by three."
"What do you do that for?"
Ephraim didn't know. It was only a guess of his, because he knew that
the first figure of the answer was two, and this would result from
dividing the first figure by three.
"To bring the answer," he replied.
"And I suppose you divide the next period by five, for the same reason,
don't you?"
"Yes, sir."
"You may take your seat, sir. You are an ornament to the class, and you
may become a great mathematician, if you live to the age of
Methuselah. I rather think it will take about nine hundred years for you
to reach that, point."
The boys laughed. They always relish a joke at the expense of a
companion, especially when perpetrated by the teacher.
"Your method of extracting the square root is very original. You didn't

find it in any arithmetic, did you?"
"No, sir."
"So I thought. You'd better take out a patent for it. The next boy may
go to the board."
I have given a specimen of Mr. Burbank's method of conducting the
school, but do not propose to enter into further details at present. It will
doubtless recall to some of my readers experiences of their own, as the
school I am describing is very similar to hundreds of country schools
now in existence, and Mr. Burbank is the representative of a large class.
CHAPTER V
THE PRIZE WINNER

"Are you going to the examination to-day, mother?" asked Harry, at
breakfast.
"I should like to go," said Mrs. Walton, "but I don't see how I can.
To-day's my bakin' day, and somehow my work has got behindhand
during the week."
"I think Harry'll get the prize," said Tom, a boy of ten, not heretofore
mentioned. He also attended the school, but was not as promising as his
oldest brother.
"What prize?" asked Mrs. Walton, looking up with interest.
"The master offered a prize, at the beginning of the term, to the scholar
that was most faithful to his studies."
"What is the prize?"
"A book."

"Do you think you will get it, Harry?" asked his mother.
"I don't know," said Harry, modestly. "I think I have some chance of
getting it."
"When will it be given?"
"Toward the close of the afternoon."
"Maybe I can get time to come in then; I'll try."
"I wish you would come, mother," said Harry earnestly. "Only don't be
disappointed if I don't get it. I've been trying, but there are some other
good scholars."
"You're the best, Harry," said Tom.
"I don't know about that. I shan't count my chickens before they are
hatched. Only if I am to get the prize I should like to have mother
there."
"I know you're a good scholar, and have improved your time," said Mrs.
Walton. "I wish your father was rich enough to send you to college."
"I should like that very much," said Harry, his eyes sparkling at merely
the suggestion.
"But it isn't much use hoping," continued his mother, with a sigh. "It
doesn't seem clear whether we can get a decent living, much less send
our boy to college. The cow is a great loss to us."
Just then Mr. Walton came in from the barn.
"How do you like the new cow, father?" asked Harry.
"She isn't equal to our old one. She doesn't give as much milk within
two quarts, if this morning's milking is a fair sample."
"You paid enough for her," said Mrs. Walton.

"I paid too much for her," answered her husband, "but it was the best I
could do. I had to buy on credit, and Squire Green knew I must pay his
price, or go without."
"Forty-three dollars is a great deal of money to pay for a cow."
"Not for some cows. Some are worth more; but this one isn't."
"What