by Louise S. Schaff

AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF WILLIAM MITCHELL 21

30th of the 1st month 1814 our first child Andrew was born, with a prospect gloomy enough. In the early part of the Winter I assisted brother Reuben Macy in a school which he was then teaching. My wages were two dollars per week. Andrew was scarcely a week old when a whaleship arrived with a full cargo of oil belonging to Captain Peter Chase, who employed us to manufacture it in our Factory. I have always considered this the most fortunate business event of my life. It gave me a comfortable living through the war. For the succeeding 7 years I was in partnership with my father in the oil business, & separately carried on a cooperage. In the course of this period we purchased a part of two whaling ships, but this undertaking did not prove successful; what one earned was lost by the other. In 1822 my father having a favourable opportunity to sell his homestead which embraced the factory & its land, gave a new turn to my plans of life. I resolved to become a teacher. I was fond of the society of the young, & imagined that I had some tact for teaching. I thought too that I might improve myself by it. I set up a private school & was successful, and after five years, the town established public Grammar Schools; & apprehending that private schools might be much impaired by it, I accepted the teachership of one of them, and, at the suggestion of the School committee, visited the best schools in the country. This excursion was of great service to me, not only on account of the suggestions in teaching; but it gave me some new and valuable acquaintances such as John Griscom, I.C. Walker, Gould Brown and others, all of whom have passed away.

(To Be Continued)

Sea Town in Winter

The sea is dark and sullen and grey, Restlessly lapping on harbor wall, Old houses gleam in the cold salt spray, Cobble stones echo to each footfall.

The fishing boats ride safe at their wharves, Their frozen nets on the masts to dry, Like silver wire, caught with silver scales, And high above comes the sea-gulls cry.

L.L.S.