There is a division known as the supplemental class, in which I became greatly interested. It embraces those members of the "high class" who have made such attainments as to warrant their attempting some branches of a collegiate course, and also includes some of the deaf-mute teachers who wish to prosecute their studies still farther. The professors give instruction in Latin, Greek, and several modern languages, as well as in the natural sciences, higher mathematics, and mental and moral philosophy. While the regular school-hours close at 1 P.M., the supplemental class and its teachers voluntarily devote to these studies additional hours of the afternoon.

At my first visit, after the professor had given the customary introduction, the young ladies and gentlemen turned to their wall-slates, and with great readiness wrote each a polite and appropriate welcome. Unfortunately their neat and graceful paragraphs were almost immediately erased to make room for succeeding exercises, so that I am unable to quote a specimen. I might have imagined that, being often called upon to address visitors, they kept a supply of well-turned salutatories constantly on hand, had not these contained so many allusions to individual circumstances — for example, the region from which I had come, or the school with which I was connected. The excellence of their handwriting, as well as the correctness and good taste of their expressions, would have done credit to pupils any where.

Let me here remark that while grammar as an art is constantly pursued from the beginning to the end of the course, it is not studied as a science until the pupils are far advanced. When taken abstractly, it is one of the most difficult studies for them to comprehend. Yet by dint of endless painstaking they often acquire a degree of skill in the use of language which is surprising.