CHAPTER XXIX.
LETTERS HOME FROM THE BOYS .-- DICK LEE'S FIRST GRIEF.
There was a large number of new scholars assembled in the "great room" of Grantley Academy on the first Monday morning of that "fall term." There were also many who had been there before, but the new-comers were in the majority.

There were boys from the village, boys from the surrounding country, and boys from even farther away than the southern shore of Long Island; and they were of many kinds and ages.

The youngest may have been "under twelve," and entitled to ride in a street-car at half-price; and several of the very older ones had already cast their first vote as grown-up men.
Counting them all, and adding those who were to make their appearance during the week, they made a little army of nearly two hundred.

There was also a young ladies' department, with about a hundred pupils; and there was quite as great a variety among them as among their young gentlemen fellow-students.
The class-rooms assigned to the lady teachers and their several grades of learners were all on the northern side of the academy building.

There was a large wing there that belonged to them, and they only met the boys face to face in the "great room" during morning exercises.