“I am not yet sixteen.”
“That is pretty young for a teacher. But then I was not much older than that when I commenced teaching.”
“Where did you teach?”
“In my native town, in Vermont. It was a winter district school of about forty scholars.”
“How did you get along?”
“Pretty well. I got the good will of the scholars, and they saw that I wanted to help them on as fast as possible.”
“I think I know enough to pass the examination,” said Walter, “and I am in search of some business to employ my time. If you want to give up the school, and recommend me to try it, I will offer myself to the school trustees.”
“What sort of a fellow are you, Mr. Howard--excusing the term I accidentally used--but have you got grit? Do you generally succeed in what you undertake?”
“I think I do,” said Walter, smiling. “I wouldn’t give it up, unless I was obliged to.”
“I asked the question,” said the young man, “because grit weighs heavily in this world. I have noticed that successful men are generally plucky, which is about the same thing.”