The teacher had formed the design of reading something to the farmers about the Grecian mythology: fortunately, however, he laid his hand upon a very different book,--a collection of German proverbs. On entering the bar-room, he took the book from his pocket, saying, "Let me read you something."
There were wry faces on all sides; for farmers regard books as their natural enemies. Mat spoke first:--
"Better tell us a story, Mr. Teacher."
"Yes, yes; tell us something: don't read," was the general response.
"Well, just listen a little while," said the teacher: "if you don't like it, say so, and I'll stop."
He began to read the proverbs, pausing after every one.
"Why, that's what George the blacksmith says," and "That's Spring Bat's word," "That's what old Maurita used to say," "That's your speech, Andrew, Mike, Caspar," was soon heard from different quarters of the room. The players laid aside their cards and listened; for at times a pithy sentence would provoke general merriment.
The teacher could not refrain from asking, with an air of some triumph, "Shall I read on?"
"Yes; read on till morning," said every one; and Kilian of the Frog Alley added, "It must have been the smartest kind of a man that made that book; for he knew every thing. I wonder if he wasn't one of the ancient sages."
"Yes: those are your sort of folks, Kilian," said some one in a corner.