He too had been adopted, but by a very different kind of man from the one who had received my father.  He did not give him sufficient education to qualify him for mercantile business, and at the time that Mr. Williams procured a situation for my father in the city, his brother Charles was apprenticed to learn the art of printing.  He had, it seemed, entertained a dislike to the employment from the first, which increased to such a degree that he ran away from his employer; and instead of returning to his former home, he left the city.  He was then fifteen years of age.  My father had never been able to gain any tidings from him, and at length came to the conclusion that he must be dead.  I know not why it was, but of late this circumstance had haunted my mind continually.  The idea seemed to fix itself in my mind that I should yet see this long-lost uncle.  I tried to banish the thought as an absurdity, but was unable to do so.  As the idea returned to my mind with such frequency, I ceased trying to banish it, and prayed that what I now thought to be an idle fancy might prove a happy reality.

How cheering to us is the return of spring, after the deep snows and severe frosts of winter.

I very much enjoyed the sugar-making season at my uncle’s farm.  I derived all the more pleasure from its being to me such a novelty.

Although quite happy in my uncle’s home, I still wished to carry out my former design of teaching, and as the season advanced, I again spoke to my uncle and aunt upon the subject.  They were at first very unwilling to yield their consent; but, as they perceived that I was really anxious about the matter, they yielded their assent to my wishes.

About five miles west of my uncle’s farm was the small village of Mill Town, so called from the number of different mills erected on the fine water-privilege it contained.  As the village was small, it contained but two schools; one a public school, and the other a select school, which had for three years been taught by a young lady from the State of Maine, who had relatives residing at Mill Town.  But Miss Landon, for such was the lady’s name, intended returning to her home in Maine in the month of June.  I had formed a very pleasant acquaintance with this young lady during the winter, and she strongly advised me to secure her pupils, if I wished to teach, promising to use her influence to aid me in obtaining pupils; and, owing to her kindness, I had no difficulty in obtaining a sufficient number of pupils for opening a school.  I was very glad to obtain a situation so near my home, that I might be able to visit my uncle and aunt at least once every week, and spend my Sabbaths with them.

“After all,” said my uncle, “I don’t know but you are right in wishing to teach, and I dare say, will be happier thus employed than otherwise.”

Accordingly, I opened my school about the middle of June, with twenty-five pupils.  I had made arrangements to board in the house of the minister, who resided in the village.  His name was Mr. Northwood, or Parson Northwood, as he was usually called by the villagers.  He was very much respected on account of his many excellent qualities both as pastor and friend.  His family consisted of himself, his wife, and two little girls, who attended my school.