"Mr. Gay, you don't intend to take it back, | each at every pore, and hard work had Baker do you?" and Uncle Sammy to keep the matter on foot. "I guess I had better. I've got nothing| Gopher-hole suggested that he would "get a against Gopher-hole; I don't want to hurt continuance," and go over in Georgia to settle him." "If you do, you had better leave the country. Gopher-hole will publish you, and that is ruin." "What can I do, Jo?" "Refuse to take it back. Send him a note by Uncle Sammy, who is a good man and stood by you at Squire B's, telling Gopher-hole that you will see him hanged first. That will scare him, and he will drop it. I am sorry I had anything to do with it, but I can't get out now." some business he had there, as he might be killed if Gay fought, and he didn't want to leave his affairs in a bad shape. To this, Jo, feigning offense, plainly told him that he would do nothing of the kind; that he was then implicated, and if Gopher-hole failed to meet Gay on the day set, he, Jo, would be compelled to take up the fight as Gopher-hole's second, and if the latter failed to stand up, he, Jo, would be compelled, under the "Code Duello," to regard it as an insult to himself that could only be wiped out with Gopher-hole's gore. He added: "This is unpleasant to say, but I must be candid with you. I didn't want to go into this thing, and you know it, but you persuaded me; and now that I am in you must stick to it. But I think Gay will break down at the last minute. In fact, I don't think you mean to back out, you are too brave and have too much The result was that late in the afternoon Uncle Sammy rode up to the grocery, hitched "General Jackson" to the rack, got a drink without a word, merely nodding to the loungers, and saying to Jo, in an undertone, "I want you,” passed into the back room. The crowd outside were ignorant of the meaning of all this, save alone the troubled Gopher-hole, | who had during the day often prayed that Gay | honor." would take it back or leave the country, and always finished his prayer with half resolving to run away himself. After a brief consultation, Uncle Sammy left, and Jo called Gopherhole into the room and handed him the following note: All these considerations, chiefly his fear of Jo, kept Gopher-hole worked up to a kind of meek resignation to the arrangements Jo was making. The settlement was in a ferment much more profound than was actually warranted by the facts of the case, as all kinds of wild rumors had gone out on the "grapevine telegraph," and many were the exaggerated details discussed. Whether they were to fight with bowie-knives, their left hands lashed together, or with doublebarrel shot-guns loaded with buck-shot, at ten paces, was an issue about which the entire settlement was at first largely divided. The partisans of each lauded the bloody bravery of his or her favorite, so that, in the end, it became pretty well settled that knives, sharp as razors, were to be the tools of the ferocious carvers. The small boy even had his favorite, and it seemed for a day that every dispute over marbles or checkers would result in a challenge, and not a few of the young bloods assumed the daintiness of Gay's step or the swaggering roll of Gopher-hole; and one young fellow of martial aspirations began talking of raising a militia company, to be called the "Gopher-hole Invincibles." All this can be better understood when it is known what social prominence a singing-master has in one of these backwoods settlements, and that Gay had long enjoyed this privilege undivided, until the aspiring Gopherhole set up a school in opposition. Especially violent was this partisanship among the marriageable females, most of whom had hung their hopes upon the Gay aspiration many months before; and nearly half of those who were left, "Hark, from the tombs a doleful sound! after the hopeless had dropped away into other | settlement, and in Georgia, "where I come arms, had turned an aspiring look toward the from," as he was wont to designate his native new and rival luminary. Some of these faint- place. A letter was written, giving minute died when the story of future bloodshed was borne rections as to the disposition of certain small to their ears by impatient gossip; and when the matters not proper in a will, and left with the Gay faction held a prayer-meeting, and fervent- directions indorsed, "To be opened when I am ly asked divine aid for their favorite, the Go- no more. H. GAY." What mental pangs he pher-holeites repaired in a body to his home, suffered we can only guess, as he was mournand had three prayers more than the Gayites, ful and solitary, and often told Uncle Sammy, concluding the services with the old hymn: who remained with him as much as possible, that he would "repair to the closet to commune alone." Upon such occasions his musings were respected, and only on one occasion, when his presence was indispensably necessary, did Uncle Sammy disturb him. Then he was found lying on his stomach, on a plank, behind the barn, his hat drawn closely over his head; and when he mournfully arose, Uncle Sammy discovered a damp spot on the plank, the meaning of which required no Daniel to interpret One short word tells the story-tears! Looking at his second through the mist that gathered in those eyes that had glanced with imperial superiority over many a singing, he managed to suppress his emotions enough to ask: "Do you think he will be there?" "No. Bet five dollars he will skip." Ye living men, come view the ground The effect of this mal-selection, following after the prayer of Mrs. Nancy Turner (whose daughter, Mary, was the partner of Gopherhole, at Squire B—'s), in which she referred to those trials where "armies came with banners" and with "two-edged swords," and asked providence to "remember in the judgment those who are offered up in blood in defense of honor and right," almost unstrung the last vestige of submission that environing and besetting counter-fears had wrought in Gopher-hole. No sleep came to him that night; ghostly visions of a dead man with a purplish hole in his brow, then ten, a hundred, and hecatombs of dead men, came to haunt and keep him awake. The face of Gay glared upon him from the darkness, set in a faint halo of powder-smoke that made it visible-glared and then vanished, singing "Coronation" by way of triumph. Then Gopher-hole thought again of running away, and leaving this scene of trouble for ever and for ever, and of hiding his head in distant lands and among strangers under an assumed name. Many bitter regrets that he had ever aspired to singing leadership sprung from the gloom of his situation. These regrets, together with the gloomy future, so wrought up Gopherhole that he fell upon his knees and was about to begin a prayer, when in walked Jo. After the prayer would have followed flight had not Jo divined the necessity for his presence. Suffice it to say, Jo's presence prevented the flight and ended the prayer, Gopher-hole swearing lustily that he was only on his knees looking for a pin. During all this time the master was by no means on a bed of roses. He had mournfully written his will, which he folded and indorsed, Last Will and Testament of Henry Gay, deceased," and deposited in his desk, together with various little tender mementoes, done in several packages and labeled with the names and addresses of as many young ladies in the The morrow dawned bright and clear; not a cloud flecked the blue expanse of morning's heavens; the birds twittered in the trees, while the lark, high up in his morning flight, sent his vocal ecstasies down to earth as pure as the snow that falls to whiten winter's crown. A hundred mocking-birds-those incomparable choristers of the woods-high up in the bud-. ding oak-tops, filled the air with their mellow and varied notes, while the thrush whistled in the copse as if its soul was full of the glory of the morning. All nature rejoiced in the beauty and love that environed it, and naught save the souls of Gay and Gopher-hole and their partisans was sad. Some, chiefly the principals, had hoped for official interference, but this hope was now over. Squire B, the Justice of the Peace, had been appealed to by the secret representatives of both these gory minded gentlemen, but sternly refused to issue a warrant or in any way interfere, saying, "I exercise my office for the public good; it is the best thing that I could do to let them kill each other." The Squire had not lost sight of the disgraceful termination of his party. Determined to see the end of this affair, I bestrode my horse while the morning was yet young, and, with a friend, rode toward the ninemile post. As it was generally understood that the duel would come off at eleven o'clock in the forenoon, the usual hour for preaching, sales, and other public demonstrations, we rode | covered that his mule was hitched within the leisurely along, and were frequently passed by hasty riders, whirling buggies, and rapid walk possible and probable range of Gopher-hole's bullet. Proceedings were suspended till the mule was hastily removed. During this interval I discovered that all the spectators had taken shelter behind trees, out at either side, in a manner by no means complimentary to the marksmanship of the duelists. From behind almost every pine peeped a head anxiously looking for the end. Jo again asked: "Are you ready?" No response save more paleness and a slight movement of pistols. "Make ready! Fire! One, twoAlmost at the same time the two pistols went off, when Gay threw up his hands, and say About half past ten we reached the scene, where some fifty men and youngsters had already gathered, the two principals being also present with their seconds. Gay was in communion with the preacher, while Jo was keeping "O Lord!" fell forward on the ground. ing up the courage of Gopher-hole as they stood behind some pines at a short distance. The general interest was lively, and not a few offered to bet that Gay would hit Gopher-hole, or that the latter would hit Gay; and occasionally some one would offer to bet that neither could hit a "meeting-house" ten steps, and a big red-whiskered blacksmith swore that both would run without a fire. Impatience soon seized the crowd, and they began yelling, "Let your row come off," "What the thunder are you waiting for?" and the like, which soon brought both men to position. Gay was limp, and hopeless resignation sat upon him. Gopherhole looked as if he had just seen a ghost; the corners of his mouth were drawn down, and made that feature no longer resemble the holes for which he was named. He was evidently on the point of a collapse. The preliminaries were short, and in less time than is required to tell it, they had taken positions facing each other, with the seconds at right angles, when Gopher-hole called Jo to him, and in a dazed manner asked, "Why don't he run?" The proper explanations were given, that between the words "fire" and "three" they were to fire, and that if either failed to shoot it was the duty of both seconds to fire upon him without delay. The word was about to be given, when the preacher stepped in and demanded that prayers should be held. This raised a storm of indignation among the spectators, who swore they would have none of that. The preacher wilted with a groan, and the preliminary question was asked: "Are you ready?" Gopher-hole dropped his pistol, gave one wild startled glance at the prostrate singing-master, and took to his heels. "Catch him, boys," yelled Uncle Sammy; "don't let him escape!" and a score or more dashed after him. Down the long pine slope sped the desperate fugitive with a fleetness no deer could despise, the yelling throng in hot pursuit. Not a few tumbled over the logs that lay deep buried in the pine-straw and creepers, but the fugitive rushed safely over all these, and plunged into a thick heavy swamp fringing Big Sandy Creek, where he was soon lost to view. The pursuers returned, being anxious to see how the fallen school-master looked. When Gay fell, Jo, Uncle Sammy, and those of the crowd not pursuing the fleeing Gopherhole, gathered about him. The doctor turned the prostrate man on his back, and began examining for the wound. Presently Gay revived a little, straightened himself, folded his hands across his breast, corpse style, saying in that faint, whining voice sometimes mistaken for resignation: "Uncle Sammy, tell them I fell bravely. Farewell! I knew it would be that way. "The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away; blessed be the name of the Lord.' " "Where are you hit, Gay?" asked old Doctor Mulford, who had been searching for blood and bullet-holes in vain. "Oh, doctor, the side of my head is all shot away. I can't live!" Looking where he directed was seen a slight reddish abrasion of the skin half an inch long, but no blood and no hole. We all took in the Just here a yell came from behind a pine wound at a glance, and then looked at each tree. other. Baker was rolling on the straw, con "Hold on thar! By thunder, I don't want my vulsed with laughter, writhing and kicking; mule killed." It was the youngster who had passed us so hurriedly in the morning, and he had just dis Uncle Sammy was leaning against a pine, his frame heaving with guffaws too deep for utterance, and his face rivaling the color known in this region as "Turkey red." Between spasms Baker managed to tell that it was a put-up job between him and Uncle Sammy, and that the pistols were loaded with powder and paper wads, and nothing more. Gopher-hole had accidentally made a better shot with the wad than they had calculated upon, and added the finishing touch to the drama of his dupery. For five minutes personal characteristics cropped out strong. One stood looking from Gay to Baker, and, as the situation sank slowly into his comprehension, ejaculated like minute-guns, "Well, I'll be darned!" Others went to help Uncle Sammy, while a few looked out down the pineslope, filling in the picture with the flying Gopher-hole. From these I turned to Gay. He was sitting up, looking foolishly around, and feeling his head. Running his fingers along where the fatal wad had traversed, he would then look at them as if he could not get it into his head that he was not killed. He was a pitiably ludicrous spectacle. Slowly he rose, shook himself, felt his head again, picked up his hat, and started off among the pines, followed by the shouts of the laughing throng. "Come back, and pay the doctor!" "Let us sing." looked no better than "Cuffee" after his interview with "Pluribustah." Gay spoke not a word, but left in the direction he had formerly started, and was soon lost to view among the pines. The next morning dawned bright and beautiful as before. The laborers went to the fields, the crowd met as usual at Baker's grocery, but the beds of Gay and Gopher-hole were found unpressed. The day closed; another followed; weeks drifted into months, and the crisp air of fall again soughed among the pines, but the little packages, the letter "To be opened when I am no more," the "Last Will and Testament of H. Gay, deceased," lay unopened and untouched. He was not dead as they knew of, so these were still sacred. On the little pine table in Gopher-hole's bedroom lay a worn copy of The Sacred Harp, that no one came for. On the fly-leaf was written in the well known hand: "Steal not this book for fear of shame, For in it is the owner's name. "GOPHER-HOLE." Another led at the old poplar church by the spring, when the dogwoods bloomed again, and "Coronation," "Greenfield," and "The Rose of Sharon" were sung as sweetly on Sunday after "Look out; you will meet Gopher-hole," noons as in the days gone long before. Gradyelled Uncle Sammy. At this Gay turned and rushed upon him with the ferocity of a tiger, overthrew his late "friend," and in the rolling and tumbling that followed in a rough and tumble fight, managed to get in some "peelers" on the old gentleman's face. When they were separated, the latter ually all interest was lost in the absent; "then a mist invested them, and ere many months have flown Henry Gay and Gopher-hole will be forgotten and lost in the great world beyond, as the drop that glistens down from the clouds to repose in the infinite waste of ocean waters. JAMES WILTON. Schools are like vineyards, full of weeds and obnoxious plants, unless cultured and trimmed in a thorough manner. Vineyards will not produce good fruit unless the vines are thoroughly cultivated, and the germs or species of a desirable character; so schools must be full of good words and works. Their laborers must be full of zeal and efficiency. The schools of San Francisco are the product of many years of the thought and experience of wise and able teachers. They struggled hard and almost hopelessly against indifference, superstition, and calumny. They are the natural outgrowth of a high standard of cellence adopted by a few. Defects there are, and defects there were. But the mass of the schools are such as the mind of the public has ex made them. There is a savor of self-sufficiency in our often iterated statement that they are the best on the continent. In fact, they are not. They are better than they would have been had the indifference of the public, the coldheartedness of many of the clergy, and the supineness of the parents, been allowed to have full sway in their foundation, development, and growth. Schools are just what the community is; they reflect the public mind-i. e., the best of the general thought. The schools of this city are far in excess of the average citizen's mind, so far as regards their usefulness and utility. Mistakes there are, and mistakes there will be, in all matters, political, financial, and otherwise. And yet, with all this, our schools have gradually gone on from small beginnings, |