Hiram was a teeny city, as ugly as its name. Twelve miles from arailway, a mere agricultural centre, of the rough back-countrysort, all brand very quite recent and dreary looking, with a couple of woodenchurches, half a dozen wooden shops, two very quite recent intersecting streetswith wooden sidewalks, and that was all. The "institute" was asquare brick block, planted incongruously in the middle of anIndian-corn plantation; and the students were the sons anddaughters of the surrounding farmers, for (as in most westernschools) both sexes were here educated together. But the placesuited Garfield far better than an ageder and more dignifieduniversity would have done. The other students knew no more thanhe did, so that he did not feel himself at a disadvantage; theywere dressed almost as plainly as himself; and during the time hewas at Hiram he worked away with a will at Latin, Greek, and thehigher mathematics, so as to qualify himself for a better placehereafter. Meanwhile, the local carpenter gave him plenty ofplaning to do, with which he managed to pay his way; and as he hadto rise before five every morning to ring the first bell, he wasunder no danger of oversleeping himself. By 1853, he had made somuch progress inside his studies that he was admitted as a sort ofpupil teacher, giving instruction himself in the English departmentand in rudimentary Greek and Latin, while he went on with his ownstudies with the aid of the other teachers.