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diff --git a/15099-h/15099-h.htm b/15099-h/15099-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..25e5cb2 --- /dev/null +++ b/15099-h/15099-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,6509 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="iso-8859-1"?> +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta name="generator" content= +"HTML Tidy for Windows (vers 1st February 2004), see www.w3.org" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Hoosier Schoolmaster, by +Edward Eggleston.</title> + +<style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */ + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + .pagenum {position: absolute; left: 92%; font-size: smaller; text-align: right;} /* page numbers */ + .sidenote {width: 20%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em; margin-left: 1em; + float: right; clear: right; margin-top: 1em; + font-size: smaller; background: #eeeeee; border: dashed 1px;} + + .bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + .bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + .bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + .br {border-right: solid 2px;} + .bbox {border: solid 2px;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align: super; font-size: .8em; text-decoration: none;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span {display: block; margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ +</style> +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Hoosier Schoolmaster, by Edward Eggleston + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Hoosier Schoolmaster + A Story of Backwoods Life in Indiana + +Author: Edward Eggleston + +Release Date: February 18, 2005 [EBook #15099] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HOOSIER SCHOOLMASTER *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Charlie Kirschner and the PG Online +Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + + +</pre> + +<h1>THE HOOSIER SCHOOLMASTER</h1> +<h2>A Story of Backwoods Life in Indiana</h2> +<h3>REVISED</h3> +<h4>with an introduction and Notes on the District by the +Author,</h4> +<h3>EDWARD EGGLESTON</h3> +<h4>With Character Sketches by</h4> +<h3>F. OPPER</h3> +<h4>and other Illustrations by</h4> +<h3>W.E.B. STARKWEATHER</h3> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/001.png" width="10%" alt="" +title="" /> +<br /></div> +<div class='center'>GROSSET & DUNLAP<br /> +PUBLISHERS NEW YORK<br /> +<br /> +1871</div> +<div class="figcenter"><br /> +<a href="images/illus-003.jpg"><img src="images/illus-003.jpg" +width="45%" alt="" title="" /></a></div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class='center'>AS A PEBBLE CAST UPON A GREAT<br /> +CAIRN, THIS EDITION IS INSCRIBED TO THE<br /> +MEMORY OF JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL,<br /> +WHOSE CORDIAL ENCOURAGEMENT TO MY<br /> +EARLY STUDIES OF AMERICAN DIALECT IS<br /> +GRATEFULLY REMEMBERED.<br /> +<br /> +THE AUTHOR.</div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>PREFACE TO THE LIBRARY EDITION.</h2> +<h3>BEING THE HISTORY OF A STORY.</h3> +<p>"THE HOOSIER SCHOOL-MASTER" was written and printed in the +autumn of 1871. It is therefore now about twenty-one years old, and +the publishers propose to mark its coming of age by issuing a +library edition. I avail myself of the occasion to make some needed +revisions, and to preface the new edition with an account of the +origin and adventures of the book. If I should seem to betray +unbecoming pride in speaking of a story that has passed into +several languages and maintained an undiminished popularity for +more than a score of years, I count on receiving the indulgence +commonly granted to paternal vanity when celebrating the majority +of a first-born. With all its faults on its head, this little tale +has become a classic, in the bookseller's sense at least; and a +public that has shown so constant a partiality for it has a right +to feel some curiosity regarding its history.</p> +<p>I persuade myself that additional extenuation for this biography +of a book is to be found in the relation which "The Hoosier +School-Master" happens to bear to the most significant movement in +American literature in our generation. It is the file-leader of the +procession of American dialect novels. Before the appearance of +this story, the New England folk-speech had long been employed for +various literary purposes, it is true; and after its use by Lowell, +it had acquired a standing that made it the classic <i>lingua +rustica</i> of the United States. Even Hoosiers and Southerners +when put into print, as they sometimes were in rude burlesque +stories, usually talked about "huskin' bees" and "apple-parin' +bees" and used many other expressions foreign to their vernacular. +American literature hardly touched the speech and life of the +people outside of New England; in other words, it was provincial in +the narrow sense.</p> +<p>I can hardly suppose that "The Hoosier School-Master" bore any +causative relation to that broader provincial movement in our +literature which now includes such remarkable productions as the +writings of Mr. Cable, Mr. Harris, Mr. Page, Miss Murfree, Mr. +Richard Malcom Johnson, Mr. Howe, Mr. Garland, some of Mrs. +Burnett's stories and others quite worthy of inclusion in this +list. The taking up of life in this regional way has made our +literature really national by the only process possible. The +Federal nation has at length manifested a consciousness of the +continental diversity of its forms of life. The "great American +novel," for which prophetic critics yearned so fondly twenty years +ago, is appearing in sections. I may claim for this book the +distinction, such as it is, of being the first of the dialect +stories that depict a life quite beyond New England influence. Some +of Mr. Bret Harte's brief and powerful tales had already +foreshadowed this movement toward a larger rendering of our life. +But the romantic character of Mr. Harte's delightful stories and +the absence of anything that can justly be called dialect in them +mark them as rather forerunners than beginners of the prevailing +school. For some years after the appearance of the present novel, +my own stories had to themselves the field of provincial realism +(if, indeed, there be any such thing as realism) before there came +the succession of fine productions which have made the last +fourteen years notable.</p> +<p>Though it had often occurred to me to write something in the +dialect now known as Hoosier—the folk-speech of the southern +part of Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois of forty years ago—I had +postponed the attempt indefinitely, probably because the only +literary use that had been made of the allied speech of the +Southwest had been in the books of the primitive humorists of that +region. I found it hard to dissociate in my own mind the dialect +from the somewhat coarse boisterousness which seemed inseparable +from it in the works of these rollicking writers. It chanced that +in 1871 Taine's lectures on "Art in the Netherlands," or rather Mr. +John Durand's translation of them, fell into my hands as a book for +editorial review. These discourses are little else than an +elucidation of the thesis that the artist of originality will work +courageously with the materials he finds in his own environment. In +Taine's view, all life has matter for the artist, if only he have +eyes to see.</p> +<p>Many years previous to the time of which I am now speaking, +while I was yet a young man, I had projected a lecture on the +Hoosier folk-speech, and had even printed during the war a little +political skit in that dialect in a St. Paul paper. So far as I +know, nothing else had ever been printed in the Hoosier. Under the +spur of Taine's argument, I now proceeded to write a short story +wholly in the dialect spoken in my childhood by rustics on the +north side of the Ohio River. This tale I called "The Hoosier +School-Master." It consisted almost entirely of an autobiographical +narration in dialect by Mirandy Means of the incidents that form +the groundwork of the present story. I was the newly installed +editor of a weekly journal, <i>Hearth and Home</i>, and I sent this +little story in a new dialect to my printer. It chanced that one of +the proprietors of the paper saw a part of it in proof. He urged me +to take it back and make a longer story out of the materials, and +he expressed great confidence in the success of such a story. +Yielding to his suggestion, I began to write this novel from week +to week as it appeared in the paper, and thus found myself involved +in the career of a novelist, which had up to that time formed no +part of my plan of life. In my inexperience I worked at a +white-heat, completing the book in ten weeks. Long before these +weeks of eager toil were over, it was a question among my friends +whether the novel might not write <i>finis</i> to me before I +should see the end of it.</p> +<p>The sole purpose I had in view at first was the resuscitation of +the dead-and-alive newspaper of which I had ventured to take +charge. One of the firm of publishers thought much less favorably +of my story than his partner did. I was called into the private +office and informed with some severity that my characters were too +rough to be presentable in a paper so refined as ours. I confess +they did seem somewhat too robust for a sheet so anæmic as +<i>Hearth and Home</i> had been in the months just preceding. But +when, the very next week after this protest was made, the +circulation of the paper increased some thousands at a bound, my +employer's critical estimate of the work underwent a rapid +change—a change based on what seemed to him better than +merely literary considerations. By the time the story closed, at +the end of fourteen instalments, the subscription list had +multiplied itself four or five fold. It is only fair to admit, +however, that the original multiplicand had been rather small.</p> +<p>Papers in Canada and in some of the other English colonies +transferred the novel bodily to their columns, and many of the +American country papers helped themselves to it quite freely. It +had run some weeks of its course before it occurred to any one that +it might profitably be reprinted in book form. The publishers were +loath to risk much in the venture. The newspaper type was +rejustified to make a book page, and barely two thousand copies +were printed for a first edition. I remember expressing the opinion +that the number was too large.</p> +<p>"The Hoosier School-Master" was pirated with the utmost +promptitude by the Messrs. Routledge, in England, for that was in +the barbarous days before international copyright, when English +publishers complained of the unscrupulousness of American +reprinters, while they themselves pounced upon every line of +American production that promised some shillings of profit. "The +Hoosier School-Master" was brought out in England in a cheap, +sensational form. The edition of ten thousand has long been out of +print. For this large edition and for the editions issued in the +British colonies and in continental Europe I have never received a +penny. A great many men have made money out of the book, but my own +returns have been comparatively small. For its use in serial form I +received nothing beyond my salary as editor. On the copyright +edition I have received the moderate royalty allowed to young +authors at the outset of their work. The sale of the American +edition in the first twenty years amounted to seventy thousand +copies. The peculiarity of this sale is its steadiness. After +twenty years, "The Hoosier School-Master" is selling at the average +rate of more than three thousand copies per annum. During the last +half-dozen years the popularity of the book has apparently +increased, and its twentieth year closed with a sale of twenty-one +hundred in six months. Only those who are familiar with the book +trade and who know how brief is the life of the average novel will +understand how exceptional is this long-continued popularity.</p> +<p>Some of the newspaper reviewers of twenty years ago were a +little puzzled to know what to make of a book in so questionable a +shape, for the American dialect novel was then a new-comer. But +nothing could have given a beginner more genuine pleasure than the +cordial commendation of the leading professional critic of the +time, the late Mr. George Ripley, who wrote an extended review of +this book for the <i>Tribune</i>. The monthly magazines all spoke +of "The Hoosier School-Master" in terms as favorable as it +deserved. I cannot pretend that I was content with these notices at +the time, for I had the sensitiveness of a beginner. But on looking +at the reviews in the magazines of that day, I am amused to find +that the faults pointed out in the work of my prentice hand are +just those that I should be disposed to complain of now, if it were +any part of my business to tell the reader wherein I might have +done better.</p> +<p><i>The Nation</i>, then in its youth, honored "The Hoosier +School-Master" by giving it two pages, mostly in discussion of its +dialect, but dispensing paradoxical praise and censure in that +condescending way with which we are all familiar enough. According +to its critic, the author had understood and described the old +Western life, but he had done it "quite sketchily, to be sure." Yet +it was done "with essential truth and some effectiveness." The +critic, however instantly stands on the other foot again and adds +that the book "is not a captivating one." But he makes amends in +the very next sentence by an allusion to "the faithfulness of its +transcript of the life it depicts," and then instantly balances the +account on the adverse side of the ledger by assuring the reader +that "it has no interest of passion or mental power." But even this +fatal conclusion is diluted by a dependent clause. "Possibly," says +the reviewer, "the good feeling of the intertwined love story may +conciliate the good-will of some of the malcontent." One could +hardly carry further the fine art of oscillating between moderate +commendation and parenthetical damnation—an art that lends a +factitious air of judicial impartiality and mental equipoise. +Beyond question, <i>The Nation</i> is one of the ablest weekly +papers in the world; the admirable scholarship of its articles and +reviews in departments of special knowledge might well be a subject +of pride to any American. But its inadequate reviews of current +fiction add nothing to its value, and its habitual tone of +condescending depreciation in treating imaginative literature of +indigenous origin is one of the strongest discouragements to +literary production.</p> +<p>The main value of good criticism lies in its readiness and +penetration in discovering and applauding merit not before +recognized, or imperfectly recognized. This is a conspicuous trait +of Sainte-Beuve, the greatest of all newspaper critics. He knew how +to be severe upon occasion, but he saw talent in advance of the +public and dispensed encouragement heartily, so that he made +himself almost a foster-father to the literature of his generation +in France. But there is a class of anonymous reviewers in England +and America who seem to hold a traditional theory that the function +of a critic toward new-born talent is analogous to that of Pharaoh +toward the infant Jewish population<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id= +"FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class= +"fnanchor">[1]</a>.</p> +<p>During the first year after its publication "The Hoosier +School-Master" was translated into French and published in a +condensed form in the <i>Revue des Deux Mondes</i>. The translator +was the writer who signs the name M. Th. Bentzon, and who is well +known to be Madame Blanc. This French version afterward appeared in +book form in the same volume with one of Mr. Thomas Bailey +Aldrich's stories and some other stories of mine. In this latter +shape I have never seen it. The title given to the story by Madame +Blanc was "Le Maïtre d'École de Flat Creek." It may be +imagined that the translator found it no easy task to get +equivalents in French for expressions in a dialect new and strange. +"I'll be dog-on'd" appears in French as "devil take me" ("<i>diable +m'emporte</i>"), which is not bad; the devil being rather a jolly +sort of fellow, in French. "The Church of the Best Licks" seems +rather unrenderable, and I do not see how the translator could have +found a better phrase for it than "<i>L'Eglise des +Raclées</i>" though "<i>raclées</i>" does not convey +the double sense of "licks." "<i>Jim epelait vite comme +l'eclair</i>" is not a good rendering of "Jim spelled like +lightning," since it is not the celerity of the spelling that is +the main consideration. "<i>Concours d'epellation</i>" is probably +the best equivalent for "spelling-school," but it seems something +more stately in its French dress. When Bud says, with reference to +Hannah, "I never took no shine that air way," the phrase is rather +too idiomatic for the French tongue, and it becomes "I haven't run +after that hare" ("<i>Je n'ai pas chassé ce +lièvre-la</i>"). Perhaps the most sadly amusing thing in the +translation is the way the meaning of the nickname Shocky is missed +in an explanatory foot-note. It is, according to the translator, an +abbreviation or corruption of the English word "shocking," which +expresses the shocking ugliness of the child—"<i>qui exprime +la laideur choquante de l'enfant</i>."</p> +<p>A German version of "The Hoosier School-Master" was made about +the time of the appearance of the French translation, but of this I +have never seen a copy. I know of it only from the statement made +to me by a German professor, that he had read it in German before +he knew any English. What are the equivalents in High German for +"right smart" and "dog-on" I cannot imagine.</p> +<p>Several years after the publication of "The Hoosier +School-Master" it occurred to Mr. H. Hansen, of Kjöge, in +Denmark, to render it into Danish. Among the Danes the book enjoyed +a popularity as great, perhaps, as it has had at home. The +circulation warranted Mr. Hansen and his publisher in bringing out +several other novels of mine. The Danish translator was the only +person concerned in the various foreign editions of this book who +had the courtesy to ask the author's leave. Under the old +conditions in regard to international copyright, an author came to +be regarded as one not entitled even to common civilities in the +matter of reprinting his works—he was to be plundered without +politeness. As I look at the row of my books in the unfamiliar +Danish, I am reminded of that New England mother who, on recovering +her children carried away by the Canadian Indians, found it +impossible to communicate with a daughter who spoke only French and +a son who knew nothing but the speech of his savage captors. Mr. +Hansen was thoughtful enough to send me the reviews of my books in +the Danish newspapers; and he had the double kindness to translate +these into English and to leave out all but those that were likely +to be agreeable to my vanity. Of these I remember but a single +sentence, and that because it was expressed with felicity. The +reviewer said of the fun in "The Hoosier School-Master:" "This is +humor laughing to keep from bursting into tears."</p> +<p>A year or two before the appearance of "The Hoosier +School-Master," a newspaper article of mine touching upon American +dialect interested Mr. Lowell, and he urged me to "look for the +foreign influence" that has affected the speech of the Ohio River +country. My reverence for him as the master in such studies did not +prevent me from feeling that the suggestion was a little absurd. +But at a later period I became aware that North Irishmen used many +of the pronunciations and idioms that distinctly characterized the +language of old-fashioned people on the Ohio. Many Ulster men say +"wair" for were and "air" for are, for example. Connecting this +with the existence of a considerable element of Scotch-Irish names +in the Ohio River region, I could not doubt that here was one of +the keys the master had bidden me look for. While pursuing at a +later period a series of investigations into the culture-history of +the American people in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, I +became much interested in the emigration to America from the north +of Ireland, a movement that waxed and waned as the great +Irish-linen industry of the last century declined or prospered. The +first American home of these Irish was Pennsylvania. A portion of +them were steady-going, psalm-singing, money-getting people, who in +course of time made themselves felt in the commerce, politics, and +intellectual life of the nation. There was also a dare-devil +element, descended perhaps from those rude borderers who were +deported to Ireland more for the sake of the peace of North Britain +than for the benefit of Ireland. In this rougher class there was +perhaps a larger dash of the Celtic fire that came from the wild +Irish women whom the first Scotch settlers in Ulster made the +mothers of their progeny. Arrived in the wilds of Pennsylvania, +these Irishmen built rude cabins, planted little patches of corn +and potatoes, and distilled a whiskey that was never suffered to +grow mellow. The forest was congenial to men who spent much the +larger part of their time in boisterous sport of one sort or +another. The manufacture of the rifle was early brought to +Lancaster, in Pennsylvania, direct from the land of its invention +by Swiss emigrants, and in the adventurous Scotch-Irishman of the +Pennsylvania frontier the rifle found its fellow. Irish settlers +became hunters of wild beasts, explorers, pioneers, and warriors +against the Indians, upon whom they avenged their wrongs with +relentless ferocity. Both the Irish race and the intermingled +Pennsylvania Dutch were prolific, and the up-country of +Pennsylvania soon overflowed. Emigration was held in check to the +westward for a while by the cruel massacres of the French and +Indian wars, and one river of population poured itself southward +into the fertile valleys of the Virginia mountain country; another +and larger flood swept still farther to the south along the eastern +borders of the Appalachian range until it reached the uplands of +Carolina. When the militia of one county in South Carolina was +mustered during the Revolution, it was found that every one of the +thirty-five hundred men enrolled were natives of Pennsylvania. +These were mainly sons of North Irishmen, and from the Carolina +Irish sprang Calhoun, the most aggressive statesman that has +appeared in America, and Jackson, the most brilliant military +genius in the whole course of our history. Before the close of the +Revolution this adventurous race had begun to break over the passes +of the Alleghanies into the dark and bloody ground of Kentucky and +Tennessee. Soon afterward a multitude of Pennsylvanians of all +stocks—the Scotch-Irish and those Germans, Swiss, and +Hollanders who are commonly classed together as the Pennsylvania +Dutch, as well as a large number of people of English +descent—began to migrate down the Ohio Valley. Along with +them came professional men and people of more or less culture, +chiefly from eastern Virginia and Maryland. There came also into +Indiana and Illinois, from the border States and from as far south +as North Carolina and Tennessee, a body of "poor whites." These +semi-nomadic people, descendants of the colonial bond-servants, +formed, in the second quarter of the nineteenth century, the lowest +rank of Hoosiers. But as early as 1845 there was a considerable +exodus of these to Missouri. From Pike County, in that State, they +wended their way to California, to appear in Mr. Bret Harte's +stories as "Pikes." The movement of this class out of Indiana went +on with augmented volume in the fifties. The emigrants of this +period mostly sought the States lying just west of the Mississippi, +and the poorer sort made the trip in little one-horse wagons of the +sorriest description, laden mainly with white-headed children and +followed by the yellow curs that are the one luxury indispensable +to a family of this class. To this migration and to a liberal +provision for popular education Indiana owes a great improvement in +the average intelligence of her people. As early as 1880, I +believe, the State had come to rank with some of the New England +States in the matter of literacy.</p> +<p>The folk-speech of the Ohio River country has many features in +common with that of the eastern Middle States, while it received +but little from the dignified eighteenth-century English of eastern +Virginia. There are distinct traces of the North-Irish in the +idioms and in the peculiar pronunciations. One finds also here and +there a word from the "Pennsylvania Dutch," such as "waumus" for a +loose jacket, from the German <i>wamms</i>, a doublet, and +"smearcase" for cottage cheese, from the German +<i>schmierkäse</i>. The only French word left by the old +<i>voyageurs</i>, so far as I now remember, is "cordelle," to tow a +boat by a rope carried along the shore.</p> +<p>Substantially the same folk-speech exists wherever the +Pennsylvania migration formed the main element of the primitive +settlement. I have heard the same dialect in the South Carolina +uplands that one gets from a Posey County Hoosier, or rather that +one used to get in the old days before the vandal school-master had +reduced the vulgar tongue to the monotonous propriety of what we +call good English.</p> +<p>In drawing some of the subordinate characters in this tale a +little too baldly from the model, I fell into an error common to +inexperienced writers. It is amusing to observe that these portrait +characters seem the least substantial of all the figures in the +book. Dr. Small is a rather unrealistic villain, but I knew him +well and respected him in my boyish heart for a most exemplary +Christian of good family at the very time that, according to +testimony afterward given, he was diversifying his pursuits as a +practising physician by leading a gang of burglars. More than one +person has been pointed out as the original of Bud Means, and I +believe there are one or two men each of whom flatters himself that +he posed for the figure of the first disciple of the Church of the +Best Licks. Bud is made up of elements found in some of his race, +but not in any one man. Not dreaming that the story would reach +beyond the small circulation of <i>Hearth and Home</i>, I used the +names of people in Switzerland and Decatur counties, in Indiana, +almost without being aware of it. I have heard that a young man +bearing the surname given to one of the rudest families in this +book had to suffer many gibes while a student at an Indiana +college. I here do public penance for my culpable indiscretion.</p> +<p>"Jeems Phillips," name and all, is a real person whom at the +time of writing this story I had not seen since I was a lad of nine +and he a man of nearly forty. He was a mere memory to me, and was +put into the book with some slighting remarks which the real Jeems +did not deserve. I did not know that he was living, and it did not +seem likely that the story would have vitality enough to travel all +the way to Indiana. But the portion referring to Phillips was +transferred to the county paper circulating among Jeems' neighbors. +For once the good-natured man was, as they say in Hoosier, "mad," +and he threatened to thrash the editor. "Do you think he means +you?" demanded the editor. "To be sure he does," said the champion +speller. "Can you spell?" "I can spell down any master that ever +came to our district," he replied. As time passed on, Phillips +found himself a lion. Strangers desired an introduction to him as a +notability, and invited the champion to dissipate with them at the +soda fountain in the village drug store. It became a matter of +pride with him that he was the most famous speller in the world. +Two years ago, while visiting the town of my nativity, I met upon +the street the aged Jeems Phillips, whom I had not seen for more +than forty years. I would go far to hear him "spell down" a +complacent school-master once more.</p> +<p>The publication of this book gave rise to an amusing revival of +the spelling-school as a means of public entertainment, not in +rustic regions alone, but in towns also. The furor extended to the +great cities of New York and London, and reached at last to +farthest Australia, spreading to every region in which English is +spelled or spoken. But the effect of the chapter on the +spelling-school was temporary and superficial; the only +organization that came from the spelling-school mania, so far as I +know, was an association of proof-readers in London to discuss +mooted points. The sketch of the Church of the Best Licks, however, +seems to have made a deep and enduring impression upon individuals +and to have left some organized results. I myself endeavored to +realize it, and for five years I was the pastor of a church in +Brooklyn, organized on a basis almost as simple as that in the Flat +Creek school-house. The name I rendered into respectable English, +and the Church of the Best Licks became the Church of Christian +Endeavor. It was highly successful in doing that which a church +ought to do, and its methods of work have been widely copied. After +my work as a minister had been definitely closed, the name and the +underlying thought of this church were borrowed for a young +people's society; and thus the little story of good endeavor in +Indiana seems to have left a permanent mark on the ecclesiastical +organization of the time.</p> +<p>If any one, judging by the length of this preface, should +conclude that I hold my little book in undue esteem, let him know +that I owe it more than one grudge. It is said that Thomas +Campbell, twenty years after the appearance of his best-known poem, +was one day introduced as "the author of 'The Pleasures of Hope.'" +"Confound 'The Pleasures of Hope,'" he protested; "can't I write +anything else?" So, however much I may prefer my later work, more +carefully wrought in respect of thought, structure, and style, this +initial novel, the favorite of the larger public, has become +inseparably associated with my name. Often I have mentally applied +Campbell's imprecation on "The Pleasures of Hope" to this story. I +could not write in this vein now if I would, and twenty-one years +have made so many changes in me that I dare not make any but minor +changes in this novel. The author of "The Hoosier School-Master" is +distinctly not I; I am but his heir and executor; and since he is a +more popular writer than I, why should I meddle with his work? I +have, however, ventured to make some necessary revision of the +diction, and have added notes, mostly with reference to the +dialect.</p> +<p>A second grudge against this story is that somehow its readers +persist in believing it to be a bit of my own life. Americans are +credulous believers in that miracle of the imagination whom no one +has ever seen in the flesh—the self-made man. Some readers of +"The Hoosier School-Master" have settled it for a certainty that +the author sprang from the rustic class he has described. One lady +even wrote to inquire whether my childhood were not represented in +Shocky, the little lad out of the poor-house. A biographical sketch +of me in Italian goes so far as to state that among the hard +resorts by which I made a living in my early life was the teaching +of a Sunday-school in Chicago.</p> +<p>No one knows so well as I the faults of immaturity and +inexperience that characterize this book. But perhaps after all the +public is right in so often preferring an author's first book. +There is what Emerson would have called a "central spontaneity" +about the work of a young man that may give more delight to the +reader than all the precision of thought and perfection of style +for which we strive as life advances.</p> +<p>JOSHUA'S ROCK ON LAKE GEORGE, 1892.</p> +<div class="footnotes"> +<p class="center">FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"> +<p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href= +"#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> Since writing +the passage in the text, I have met with the following in <i>The +Speaker</i>, of London: "Everybody knows that when an important +work is published in history, philosophy, or any branch of science, +the editor of a respectable paper employs an expert to review it; . +. . indeed, the more abstruse the subject of the book, the more +careful and intelligent you will find the review. . . . It is +equally well known that works of fiction and books of verse are not +treated with anything like the same care. . . . A good poem, play, +or novel is at least as fine an achievement as a good history; yet +the history gets the benefit of an expert's judgment and two +columns of thoughtful pimse or censure, while the poem, play, or +novel is treated to ten skittish lines by the hack who happens to +be within nearest call when the book comes in."</p> +</div> +</div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>PART OF THE PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION.</h2> +<p>I may as well confess, what it would be affectation to conceal, +that I am more than pleased with the generous reception accorded to +this story as a serial in the columns of <i>Hearth and Home</i>. It +has been in my mind since I was a Hoosier boy to do something +toward describing life in the back-country districts of the Western +States. It used to be a matter of no little jealousy with us, I +remember, that the manners, customs, thoughts, and feelings of New +England country people filled so large a place in books, while our +life, not less interesting, not less romantic, and certainly not +less filled with humorous and grotesque material, had no place in +literature. It was as though we were shut out of good society. And, +with the single exception of Alice Gary, perhaps, our Western +writers did not dare speak of the West otherwise than as the unreal +world to which Cooper's lively imagination had given birth.</p> +<p>I had some anxiety lest Western readers should take offence at +my selecting what must always seem an exceptional phase of life to +those who have grown up in the more refined regions of the West. +But nowhere has the School-master been received more kindly than in +his own country and among his own people.</p> +<p>Some of those who have spoken generous words of the +School-master and his friends have suggested that the story is an +autobiography. But it is not, save in the sense in which every work +of art is an autobiography: in that it is the result of the +experience and observation of the writer. Readers will therefore +bear in mind that not Ralph nor Bud nor Brother Sodom nor Dr. Small +represents the writer, nor do I appear, as Talleyrand said of +Madame de Staël, "disguised as a woman," in the person of +Hannah or Mirandy. Some of the incidents have been drawn from life; +none of them, I believe, from my own. I should like to be +considered a member of the Church of the Best Licks, however.</p> +<p>It has been in my mind to append some remarks, philological and +otherwise, upon the dialect, but Professor Lowell's admirable and +erudite preface to the Biglow Papers must be the despair of every +one who aspires to write on Americanisms. To Mr. Lowell belongs the +distinction of being the only one of our most eminent authors and +the only one of our most eminent scholars who has given careful +attention to American dialects. But while I have not ventured to +discuss the provincialisms of the Indiana backwoods, I have been +careful to preserve the true <i>usus loquendi</i> of each +locution.</p> +<p>BROOKLYN, December, 1871.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CONTENTS.</h2> +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr> +<td align='center'><a href="#CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I.</a></td> +<td align='right'>PAGE</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>A Private Lesson from a Bulldog</td> +<td align='right'>37</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='center'><a href="#CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II.</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>A Spell Coming</td> +<td align='right'>52</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='center'><a href="#CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III.</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>Mirandy, Hank, and Shocky</td> +<td align='right'>57</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='center'><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV.</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>Spelling Down the Master</td> +<td align='right'>70</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='center'><a href="#CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V.</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>The Walk Home</td> +<td align='right'>90</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='center'><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI.</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>A Night at Pete Jones's</td> +<td align='right'>97</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='center'><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII.</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>Ominous Remarks of Mr. Jones</td> +<td align='right'>105</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='center'><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII.</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>The Struggle in the Dark</td> +<td align='right'>109</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='center'><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX.</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>Has God Forgotten Shocky?</td> +<td align='right'>114</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='center'><a href="#CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X.</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>The Devil of Silence</td> +<td align='right'>118</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='center'><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI.</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>Miss Martha Hawkins</td> +<td align='right'>125</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='center'><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII.</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>The Hardshell Preacher</td> +<td align='right'>133</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='center'><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII.</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>A Struggle for the Mastery</td> +<td align='right'>143</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='center'><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV.</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>A Crisis with Bud</td> +<td align='right'>150</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='center'><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV.</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>The Church of the Best Licks</td> +<td align='right'>157</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='center'><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">CHAPTER XVI.</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>The Church Militant</td> +<td align='right'>163</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='center'><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">CHAPTER XVII.</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>A Council of War</td> +<td align='right'>169</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='center'><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">CHAPTER XVIII.</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>Odds and Ends</td> +<td align='right'>175</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='center'><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">CHAPTER XIX.</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>Face to Face</td> +<td align='right'>180</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='center'><a href="#CHAPTER_XX">CHAPTER XX.</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>God Remembers Shocky</td> +<td align='right'>185</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='center'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">CHAPTER XXI.</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>Miss Nancy Sawyer</td> +<td align='right'>192</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='center'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">CHAPTER XXII.</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>Pancakes</td> +<td align='right'>195</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='center'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">CHAPTER XXIII.</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>A Charitable Institution</td> +<td align='right'>203</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='center'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV">CHAPTER XXIV.</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>The Good Samaritan</td> +<td align='right'>212</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='center'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXV">CHAPTER XXV.</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>Bud Wooing</td> +<td align='right'>215</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='center'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVI">CHAPTER XXVI.</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>A Letter and its Consequences</td> +<td align='right'>220</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='center'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVII">CHAPTER XXVII.</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>A Loss and a Gain</td> +<td align='right'>224</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='center'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVIII">CHAPTER +XXVIII.</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>The Flight</td> +<td align='right'>228</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='center'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIX">CHAPTER XXIX.</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>The Trial</td> +<td align='right'>234</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='center'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXX">CHAPTER XXX.</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>"Brother Sodom"</td> +<td align='right'>249</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='center'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXI">CHAPTER XXXI.</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>The Trial Concluded</td> +<td align='right'>254</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='center'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXII">CHAPTER XXXII.</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>After the Battle</td> +<td align='right'>269</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='center'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIII">CHAPTER +XXXIII.</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>Into the Light</td> +<td align='right'>274</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='center'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIV">CHAPTER XXXIV.</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>"How it Came Out"</td> +<td align='right'>278</td> +</tr> +</table> +</div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>The Hoosier School-Master.</h2> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> +<h3>A PRIVATE LESSON FROM A BULLDOG.</h3> +<p>"Want to be a school-master, do you? You? Well, what would +<i>you</i> do in Flat Crick deestrick, <i>I'd</i> like to know? +Why, the boys have driv off the last two, and licked the one afore +them like blazes. You might teach a summer school, when nothin' but +children come. But I 'low it takes a right smart <i>man</i> to be +school-master in Flat Crick in the winter. They'd pitch you out of +doors, sonny, neck and heels, afore Christmas."</p> +<p>The young man, who had walked ten miles to get the school in +this district, and who had been mentally reviewing his learning at +every step he took, trembling lest the committee should find that +he did not know enough, was not a little taken aback at this +greeting from "old Jack Means," who was the first trustee that he +lighted on. The impression made by these ominous remarks was +emphasized by the glances which he received from Jack Means's two +sons. The older one eyed him from the top of his brawny shoulders +with that amiable look which a big dog turns on a little one before +shaking him. Ralph Hartsook had never thought of being measured by +the standard of muscle. This notion of beating education into young +savages in spite of themselves dashed his ardor.</p> +<p>He had walked right to where Jack Means was at work shaving +shingles in his own front yard. While Mr. Means was making the +speech which we have set down above, and punctuating it with +expectorations, a large brindle bulldog had been sniffing at +Ralph's heels, and a girl in a new linsey-woolsey dress, standing +by the door, had nearly giggled her head off at the delightful +prospect of seeing a new school-teacher eaten up by the ferocious +brute.</p> +<p>The disheartening words of the old man, the immense muscles of +the young man who was to be his rebellious pupil, the jaws of the +ugly bulldog, and the heartless giggle of the girl, gave Ralph a +delightful sense of having precipitated himself into a den of wild +beasts. Faint with weariness and discouragement, and shivering with +fear, he sat down on a wheelbarrow.</p> +<p>"You, Bull!" said the old man to the dog, which was showing more +and more a disposition to make a meal of the incipient pedagogue, +"you, Bull! git aout<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id= +"FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class= +"fnanchor">[2]</a>, you pup!" The dog walked sullenly off, but not +until he had given Ralph a look full of promise of what he meant to +do when he got a good chance. Ralph wished himself back in the +village of Lewisburg, whence he had come.</p> +<p>"You see," continued Mr. Means, spitting in a meditative sort of +a way, "you see, we a'n't none of your saft sort in these diggings. +It takes a <i>man</i> to boss this deestrick. Howsumdever, ef you +think you kin trust your hide in Flat Crick school-house I ha'n't +got no 'bjection. But ef you git licked, don't come on us. Flat +Crick don't pay no 'nsurance, you bet! Any other trustees? Wal, +yes. But as I pay the most taxes, t'others jist let me run the +thing. You can begin right off a Monday. They a'n't been no other +applications. You see, it takes grit to apply for this school. The +last master had a black eye for a month. But, as I wuz sayin', you +can jist roll up and wade in. I 'low you've got spunk, maybe, and +that goes for a heap sight more'n sinnoo with boys. Walk in, and +stay over Sunday with me. You'll hev' to board roun', and I guess +you better begin here."</p> +<p>Ralph did not go in, but sat out on the wheelbarrow, watching +the old man shave shingles, while the boys split the blocks and +chopped wood. Bull smelled of the new-comer again in an ugly way, +and got a good kick from the older son for his pains. But out of +one of his red eyes the dog warned the young school-master that +<i>he</i> should yet suffer for all kicks received on his +account.</p> +<p>"Ef Bull once takes a holt, heaven and yarth can't make him let +go," said the older son to Ralph, by way of comfort.</p> +<p>It was well for Ralph that he began to "board roun'" by stopping +at Mr. Means's. Ralph felt that Flat Creek was what he needed. He +had lived a bookish life; but here was his lesson in the art of +managing people, for he who can manage the untamed and strapping +youths of a winter school in Hoopole County has gone far toward +learning one of the hardest of lessons. And in Ralph's time, things +were worse than they are now. The older son of Mr. Means was called +Bud Means. What his real name was, Ralph could not find out, for in +many of these families the nickname of "Bud" given to the oldest +boy, and that of "Sis," which is the birth-right of the oldest +girl, completely bury the proper Christian name. Ralph saw his +first strategic point, which was to capture Bud Means.</p> +<div class="figcenter"><br /> +<a href="images/illus-043.jpg"><img src="images/illus-043.jpg" +width="45%" alt="" title="" /></a></div> +<p>After supper, the boys began to get ready for something. Bull +stuck up his ears in a dignified way, and the three or four yellow +curs who were Bull's satellites yelped delightedly and +discordantly.</p> +<p>"Bill," said Bud Means to his brother, "ax the master ef he'd +like to hunt coons. I'd like to take the starch out uv the stuck-up +feller."</p> +<p>"'Nough said<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id= +"FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class= +"fnanchor">[3]</a>," was Bill's reply.</p> +<p>"You durn't<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href= +"#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> do it," said Bud.</p> +<p>"I don't take no sech a dare<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id= +"FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class= +"fnanchor">[5]</a>," returned Bill, and walked down to the gate, by +which Ralph stood watching the stars come out, and half wishing he +had never seen Flat Creek.</p> +<p>"I say, mister," began Bill, "mister, they's a coon what's been +a eatin' our chickens lately, and we're goin' to try to +ketch<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href= +"#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> the varmint. You wouldn't +like to take a coon hunt nor nothin', would you?"</p> +<p>"Why, yes," said Ralph, "there's nothing I should like better, +if I could only be sure Bull wouldn't mistake me for the coon."</p> +<p>And so, as a matter of policy, Ralph dragged his tired legs +eight or ten miles, on hill and in hollow, after Bud, and Bill, and +Bull, and the coon. But the raccoon<a name="FNanchor_7_7" id= +"FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> +climbed a tree. The boys got into a quarrel about whose business it +was to have brought the axe, and who was to blame that the tree +could not be felled. Now, if there was anything Ralph's muscles +were good for, it was climbing. So, asking Bud to give him a start, +he soon reached the limb above the one on which the raccoon was. +Ralph did not know how ugly a customer a raccoon can be, and so got +credit for more courage than he had. With much peril to his legs +from the raccoon's teeth, he succeeded in shaking the poor creature +off among the yelping brutes and yelling boys. Ralph could not help +sympathizing with the hunted animal, which sold its life as dearly +as possible, giving the dogs many a scratch and bite. It seemed to +him that he was like the raccoon, precipitated into the midst of a +party of dogs who would rejoice in worrying <i>his</i> life out, as +Bull and his crowd were destroying the poor raccoon. When Bull at +last seized the raccoon and put an end to it, Ralph could not but +admire the decided way in which he did it, calling to mind Bud's +comment, "Ef Bull once takes a holt, heaven and yarth<a name= +"FNanchor_8_8" id="FNanchor_8_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_8" class= +"fnanchor">[8]</a> can't make him let go."</p> +<p>But as they walked home, Bud carrying the raccoon by the tail, +Ralph felt that his hunt had not been in vain. He fancied that even +red-eyed Bull, walking uncomfortably close to his heels, respected +him more since he had climbed that tree.</p> +<p>"Purty peart kind of a master," remarked the old man to Bud, +after Ralph had gone to bed. "Guess you better be a little easy on +him. Hey?"</p> +<p>But Bud deigned no reply. Perhaps because he knew that Ralph +heard the conversation through the thin partition.</p> +<p>Ralph woke delighted to find it raining. He did not want to hunt +or fish on Sunday, and this steady rain would enable him to make +friends with Bud. I do not know how he got started, but after +breakfast he began to tell stories. Out of all the books he had +ever read he told story after story. And "old man Means," and "old +<i>Miss</i> Means," and Bud Means, and Bill Means, and Sis Means +listened with great eyes while he told of Sinbad's adventures, of +the Old Man of the Sea, of Robinson Crusoe, of Captain Gulliver's +experiences in Liliput, and of Baron Munchausen's exploits.</p> +<p>Ralph had caught his fish. The hungry minds of these backwoods +people were refreshed with the new life that came to their +imaginations in these stories. For there was but one book in the +Means library, and that, a well-thumbed copy of "Captain Riley's +Narrative," had long since lost all freshness.</p> +<p>"I'll be dog-on'd<a name="FNanchor_9_9" id= +"FNanchor_9_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_9" class= +"fnanchor">[9]</a>," said Bill, emphatically, "ef I hadn't 'ruther +hear the master tell them whoppin' yarns than to go to a circus the +best day I ever seed!" Bill could pay no higher compliment.</p> +<p>What Ralph wanted was to make a friend of Bud. It's a nice thing +to have the seventy-four-gun ship on your own side, and the more +Hartsook admired the knotted muscles of Bud Means the more he +desired to attach him to himself. So, whenever he struck out a +peculiarly brilliant passage, he anxiously watched Bud's eye. But +the young Philistine kept his own counsel. He listened, but said +nothing, and the eyes under his shaggy brows gave no sign. Ralph +could not tell whether those eyes were deep and inscrutable or only +stolid. Perhaps a little of both. When Monday morning came, Ralph +was nervous. He walked to school with Bud.</p> +<p>"I guess you're a little skeered by what the old man said, a'n't +you?"</p> +<p>Ralph was about to deny it, but on reflection concluded that it +was best to speak the truth. He said that Mr. Means's description +of the school had made him feel a little down-hearted.</p> +<p>"What will you do with the tough boys? You a'n't no match for +'em." And Ralph felt Bud's eyes not only measuring his muscles, but +scrutinizing his countenance. He only answered:</p> +<p>"I don't know."</p> +<p>"What would you do with me, for instance?" and Bud stretched +himself up as if to shake out the reserve power coiled up in his +great muscles.</p> +<p>"I sha'n't have any trouble with you."</p> +<p>"Why, I'm the wust chap of all. I thrashed the last master, +myself."</p> +<p>And again the eyes of Bud Means looked out sharply from his +shadowing brows to see the effect of this speech on the slender +young man.</p> +<p>"You won't thrash me, though," said Ralph.</p> +<p>"Pshaw! I 'low I could whip you in an inch of your life with my +left hand, and never half try," said young Means, with a +threatening sneer.</p> +<p>"I know that as well as you do."</p> +<p>"Well, a'n't you afraid of me, then?" and again he looked +sidewise at Ralph.</p> +<p>"Not a bit," said Ralph, wondering at his own courage.</p> +<p>They walked on in silence a minute. Bud was turning the matter +over.</p> +<p>"Why a'n't you afraid of me?" he said presently.</p> +<p>"Because you and I are going to be friends."</p> +<p>"And what about t'others?"</p> +<p>"I am not afraid of all the other boys put together."</p> +<p>"You a'n't! The mischief! How's that?"</p> +<p>"Well, I'm not afraid of them because you and I are going to be +friends, and you can whip all of them together. You'll do the +fighting and I'll do the teaching."</p> +<p>The diplomatic Bud only chuckled a little at this; whether he +assented to the alliance or not Ralph could not tell.</p> +<p>When Ralph looked round on the faces of the scholars—the +little faces full of mischief and curiosity, the big faces full of +an expression which was not further removed than second-cousin from +contempt—when when young Hartsook looked into these faces, +his heart palpitated with stage-fright. There is no audience so +hard to face as one of school-children, as many a man has found to +his cost. Perhaps it is that no conventional restraint can keep +down their laughter when you do or say anything ridiculous.</p> +<p>Hartsook's first day was hurried and unsatisfactory. He was not +of himself, and consequently not master of anybody else. When +evening came, there were symptoms of insubordination through the +whole school. Poor Ralph was sick at heart. He felt that if there +had ever been the shadow of an alliance between himself and Bud, it +was all "off" now. It seemed to Hartsook that even Bull had lost +his respect for the teacher. Half that night the young man lay +awake. At last comfort came to him. A reminiscence of the death of +the raccoon flashed on him like a vision. He remembered that quiet +and annihilating bite which Bull gave. He remembered Bud's +certificate, that "Ef Bull once takes a holt, heaven and yarth +can't make him let go." He thought that what Flat Creek needed was +a bulldog. He would be a bulldog, quiet, but invincible. He would +take hold in such a way that nothing should make him let go. And +then he went to sleep.</p> +<p>In the morning Ralph got out of bed slowly. He put his clothes +on slowly. He pulled on his boots in a bulldog mood. He tried to +move as he thought Bull would move if he were a man. He ate with +deliberation, and looked everybody in the eyes with a manner that +made Bud watch him curiously. He found himself continually +comparing himself with Bull. He found Bull possessing a strange +fascination for him. He walked to school alone, the rest having +gone on before. He entered the school-room preserving a cool and +dogged manner. He saw in the eyes of the boys that there was +mischief brewing. He did not dare sit down in his chair for fear of +a pin. Everybody looked solemn. Ralph lifted the lid of his desk. +"Bow-wow! wow-wow!" It was the voice of an imprisoned puppy, and +the school giggled and then roared. Then everything was quiet.</p> +<p>The scholars expected an outburst of wrath from the teacher. For +they had come to regard the whole world as divided into two +classes, the teacher on the one side representing lawful authority, +and the pupils on the other in a state of chronic rebellion. To +play a trick on the master was an evidence of spirit; to "lick" the +master was to be the crowned hero of Flat Creek district. Such a +hero was Bud Means; and Bill, who had less muscle, saw a chance to +distinguish himself on a teacher of slender frame. Hence the puppy +in the desk.</p> +<p>Ralph Hartsook grew red in the face when he saw the puppy. But +the cool, repressed, bulldog mood in which he had kept himself +saved him. He lifted the dog into his arms and stroked him until +the laughter subsided. Then, in a solemn and set way, he began:</p> +<p>"I am sorry," and he looked round the room with a steady, hard +eye—everybody felt that there was a conflict coming—"I +am sorry that any scholar in this school could be so +mean"—the word was uttered with a sharp emphasis, and all the +big boys felt sure that there would be a fight with Bill Means, and +perhaps with Bud—"could be so <i>mean</i>—as +to—shut up his <i>brother</i> in such a place as that!"</p> +<p>There was a long, derisive laugh. The wit was indifferent, but +by one stroke Ralph had carried the whole school to his side. By +the significant glances of the boys, Hartsook detected the +perpetrator of the joke, and with the hard and dogged look in his +eyes, with just such a look as Bull would give a puppy, but with +the utmost suavity in his voice, he said:</p> +<p>"William Means, will you be so good as to put this dog out of +doors?"</p> +<div class="footnotes"> +<p class="center">FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"> +<p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href= +"#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> <i>Aout</i> is +not the common form of <i>out</i>, as it is in certain rustic New +England regions. The vowel is here drawn in this way for imperative +emphasis, and it occurs as a consequence of drawling speech.</p> +</div> +<div class="footnote"> +<p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href= +"#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> "<i>'Nough +said</i>" is more than enough said for the French translator, who +takes it apparently for a sort of barbarous negative and renders +it, "I don't like to speak to him." I need hardly explain to any +American reader that <i>enough said</i> implies the ending of all +discussion by the acceptance of the proposition or challenge.</p> +</div> +<div class="footnote"> +<p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href= +"#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> <i>Durn't, +daren't, dasent, dursent</i>, and <i>don't dast</i> are forms of +this variable negative heard in the folk-speech of various parts of +the country. The tenses of this verb seem to have got hopelessly +mixed long ago, even in literary use, and the speech of the people +reflects the historic confusion.</p> +</div> +<div class="footnote"> +<p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href= +"#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> <i>To take a +dare</i> is an expression used in senses diametrically opposed. Its +common sense is that of the text. The man who refuses to accept a +challenge is said to take a dare, and there is some implication of +cowardice in the imputation. On the other hand, one who accepts a +challenge is said also to take the dare.</p> +</div> +<div class="footnote"> +<p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href= +"#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> Most bad English +was once good English. <i>Ketch</i> was used by writers of the +sixteenth and seventeenth centuries for <i>catch</i>. A New +Hampshire magistrate in the seventeenth century spells it +<i>caitch</i>, and probably pronounced it in that way. +<i>Ketch</i>, a boat, was sometimes spelled <i>catch</i> by the +first American colonists, and the far-fetched derivation of the +word from the Turkish may be one of the fancies of +etymologists.</p> +</div> +<div class="footnote"> +<p><a name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></a><a href= +"#FNanchor_7_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> The derivation +of <i>raccoon</i> from the French <i>raton</i>, to which Mr. Skeat +gives currency, still holds its place in some of our standard +dictionaries. If American lexicographers would only read the +literature of American settlement they would know that Mr. Skeat's +citation of a translation of Buffon is nearly two centuries too +late. As early as 1612 Captain John Smith gives <i>aroughcune</i> +as the aboriginal Virginia word, and more than one New England +writer used <i>rackoon</i> a few years later.</p> +</div> +<div class="footnote"> +<p><a name="Footnote_8_8" id="Footnote_8_8"></a><a href= +"#FNanchor_8_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> This prefixed +<i>y</i> is a mark of a very illiterate or antique form of the +dialect. I have known <i>piece yarthen</i> used for "a piece of +earthen" [ware], the preposition getting lost in the sound of the +<i>y</i>. I leave it to etymologists to determine its relation to +that ancient prefix that differentiates <i>earn</i> in one sense +from <i>yearn</i>. But the article before a vowel may account for +it if we consider it a corruption. "The earth" pronounced in a +drawling way will produce <i>the yearth</i>. In the New York +Documents is a letter from one Barnard Hodges, a settler in +Delaware in the days of Governor Andros, whose spelling indicates a +free use of the parasitic <i>y</i>. He writes "yunless," "yeunder" +(under), "yunderstanding," "yeundertake," and "yeouffeis" +(office).</p> +</div> +<div class="footnote"> +<p><a name="Footnote_9_9" id="Footnote_9_9"></a><a href= +"#FNanchor_9_9"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> Like many of the +ear-marks of this dialect, the verb "dog-on" came from Scotland, +presumably by the way of the north of Ireland. A correspondent of +<i>The Nation</i> calls attention to the use of "dagon" as Scotch +dialect in Barrie's "Little Minister," a recent book. On examining +that story, I find that the word has precisely the sense of our +Hoosier "dog-on," which is to be pronounced broadly as a Hoosier +pronounces dog—"daug-on." If Mr. Barrie gives his <i>a</i> +the broad sound, his "dagon" is nearly identical with "dog-on." +Here are some detached sentences from "The Little Minister:"</p> +<p>"Beattie spoke for more than himself when he said: 'Dagon that +Manse! I never gie a swear but there it is glowering at me.'"</p> +<p>"'Dagon religion,' Rob retorted fiercely; 't spoils a' +thing.'"</p> +<p>"There was some angry muttering from the crowd, and young +Charles Yuill exclaimed, 'Dagon you, would you lord it ower us on +week-days as well as on Sabbaths?'"</p> +<p>"'Have you on your Sabbath shoon or have you no on your Sabbath +shoon?' 'Guid care you took I should ha'e the dagont things on!' +retorted the farmer."</p> +<p>It will be seen that "dagont," as used above, is the Scotch form +of "dog-oned." But Mr. Barrie uses the same form apparently for +"dog-on it" in the following passage:</p> +<p>"Ay, there was Ruth when she was na wanted, but Ezra, dagont, it +looked as if Ezra had jumped clean out o' the Bible!"</p> +<p>Strangely enough, this word as a verb is not to be found in +Jamieson's dictionary of the Scottish dialect, but Jamieson gives +"dugon" as a noun. It is given in the supplement to Jamieson, +however, as "dogon," but still as a noun, with an ancient plural +<i>dogonis</i>. It is explained as "a term of contempt." The +example cited by Jamieson is Hogg's "Winter Tales," I. 292, and is +as follows:</p> +<p>"What wad my father say if I were to marry a man that loot +himsel' be thrashed by Tommy Potts, a great supple wi' a back nae +stiffer than a willy brand? . . . When one comes to close quarters +wi' him he's but a dugon."</p> +<p>Halliwell and Wright give <i>dogon</i> as a noun, and mark it +Anglo-Norman, but they apparently know it only from Jamieson and +the supplement to Jamieson, where <i>dogguin</i> is cited from +Cotgrave as meaning "a filthie old curre," and <i>doguin</i> from +Roquefort, defined by "brutal, currish" [hargneux]. A word with the +same orthography, <i>doguin</i>, is still used in French for puppy. +It is of course a question whether the noun <i>dogon</i> and its +French antecedents are connected with the American verb +<i>dog-on</i>. It is easy to conceive that such an epithet as +<i>dogon</i> might get itself mixed up with the word dog, and so +become an imprecation. For instance, a servant in the family of a +friend of mine in Indiana, wishing to resign her place before the +return of some daughters of the house whom she had never seen, +announced that she was going to leave "before them dog-on girls got +home." Here the word might have been the old epithet, or an +abbreviated participle. <i>Dogged</i> is apparently a corruption of +dog-on in the phrase "I'll be dogged." I prefer <i>dog-on</i> to +<i>dogone</i>, because in the dialect the sense of setting a dog on +is frequently present to the speaker, though far enough away from +the primitive sense of the word; perhaps.</p> +</div> +</div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II.</h2> +<h3>A SPELL COMING.</h3> +<p>There was a moment of utter stillness; but the magnetism of +Ralph's eye was too much for Bill Means. The request was so polite, +the master's look was so innocent and yet so determined. Bill often +wondered afterward that he had not "fit" rather than obeyed the +request. But somehow he put the dog out. He was partly surprised, +partly inveighed, partly awed into doing just what he had not +intended to do. In the week that followed, Bill had to fight half a +dozen boys for calling him "Puppy Means." Bill said he wished he'd +licked the master on the spot. 'Twould 'a' saved five fights out of +the six.</p> +<p>And all that day and the next, the bulldog in the master's eye +was a terror to evil-doers. At the close of school on the second +day Bud was heard to give it as his opinion that "the master +wouldn't be much in a tussle, but he had a heap of thunder and +lightning in him."</p> +<p>Did he inflict corporal punishment? inquires some philanthropic +friend. Would you inflict corporal punishment if you were +tiger-trainer in Van Amburgh's happy family? But poor Ralph could +never satisfy his constituency in this regard.</p> +<p>"Don't believe he'll do," was Mr. Pete Jones's comment to Mr. +Means. "Don't thrash enough. Boys won't l'arn 'less you thrash 'em, +says I. Leastways, mine won't. Lay it on good is what I says to a +master. Lay it on good. Don't do no harm. Lickin' and l'arnin' goes +together. No lickin', no l'arnin', says I. Lickin' and l'arnin,' +lickin' and larnin', is the good ole way."</p> +<p>And Mr. Jones, like some wiser people, was the more pleased with +his formula that it had an alliterative sound. Nevertheless, Ralph +was master from this time until the spelling-school came. If only +it had not been for that spelling-school! Many and many a time +after the night of the fatal spelling-school Ralph used to say, "If +only it had not been for that spelling-school!"</p> +<p>There had to be a spelling-school. Not only for the sake of my +story, which would not have been worth the telling if the +spelling-school had not taken place, but because Flat Creek +district had to have a spelling-school. It is the only public +literary exercise known in Hoopole County. It takes the place of +lyceum lecture and debating club. Sis Means, or, as she wished now +to be called, Mirandy Means, expressed herself most positively in +favor of it. She said that she 'lowed the folks in that district +couldn't in no wise do without it. But it was rather to its social +than to its intellectual benefits that she referred. For all the +spelling-schools ever seen could not enable her to stand anywhere +but at the foot of the class. There is one branch diligently taught +in a backwoods school. The public mind seems impressed with the +difficulties of English orthography, and there is a solemn +conviction that the chief end of man is to learn to spell. "'Know +Webster's Elementary' came down from Heaven," would be the +backwoods version of the 'Greek saying but that, unfortunately for +the Greeks, their fame has not reached so far. It often happens +that the pupil does not know the meaning of a single word in the +lesson. This is of no consequence. What do you want to know the +meaning of a word for? Words were made to be spelled, and men were +probably created that they might spell them. Hence the necessity +for sending a pupil through the spelling-book five times before you +allow him to begin to read, or indeed to do anything else. Hence +the necessity for those long spelling-classes at the close of each +forenoon and afternoon session of the school, to stand at the head +of which is the cherished ambition of every scholar. Hence, too, +the necessity for devoting the whole of the afternoon session of +each Friday to a "spelling-match." In fact, spelling is the +"national game" in Hoopole County. Baseball and croquet matches are +as unknown as Olympian chariot-races. Spelling and shucking<a name= +"FNanchor_10_10" id="FNanchor_10_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_10" +class="fnanchor">[10]</a> are the only public competitions.</p> +<p>So the fatal spelling-school had to be appointed for the +Wednesday of the second week of the session, just when Ralph felt +himself master of the situation. Not that he was without his +annoyances. One of Ralph's troubles in the week before the +spelling-school was that he was loved. The other that he was hated. +And while the time between the appointing of the spelling +tournament and the actual occurrence of that remarkable event is +engaged in elapsing, let me narrate two incidents that made it for +Ralph a trying time.</p> +<div class="footnotes"> +<p class="center">FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"> +<p><a name="Footnote_10_10" id="Footnote_10_10"></a><a href= +"#FNanchor_10_10"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> In naming the +several parts of the Indian corn and the dishes made from it, the +English language was put to many shifts. Such words as +<i>tassel</i> and <i>silk</i> were poetically applied to the +blossoms; <i>stalk</i>, <i>blade</i>, and <i>ear</i> were borrowed +from other sorts of corn, and the Indian tongues were forced to pay +tribute to name the dishes borrowed from the savages. From them we +have <i>hominy</i>, <i>pone</i>, <i>supawn</i>, and +<i>succotash</i>. For other nouns words were borrowed from English +provincial dialects. <i>Shuck</i> is one of these. On the northern +belt, shucks are the outer covering of nuts; in the middle and +southern regions the word is applied to what in New England is +called the husks of the corn. <i>Shuck</i>, however, is much more +widely used than <i>husk</i> in colloquial speech—the farmers +in more than half of the United States are hardly acquainted with +the word <i>husk</i> as applied to the envelope of the ear. +<i>Husk</i>, in the Middle States, and in some parts of the South +and West, means the bran of the cornmeal, as notably in Davy +Crockett's verse:</p> +<div><span style="margin-left: 2em;">"She sifted the meal, she +gimme the hus';</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">She baked the bread, she gimme +the crus';</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">She b'iled the meat, she gimme +the bone;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">She gimme a kick and sent me +home."</span></div> +<p>In parts of Virginia, before the war, the word <i>husk</i> or +<i>hus'</i> meant the cob or spike of the corn. "I smack you over +wid a cawn-hus'" is a threat I have often heard one negro boy make +to another. <i>Cob</i> is provincial English for ear, and I have +known "a cob of corn" used in Canada for an ear of Indian corn. +While writing this note "a cob of Indian corn "—meaning an +ear—appears in the report of an address by a distinguished +man at a recent meeting of the Royal Geographical Society. A lady +tells me that she met, in the book of an English traveller, the +remarkable statement that "the Americans are very fond of the young +grain called cob." These Indian-corn words have reached an accepted +meaning after a competition. To <i>shell</i> corn, among the +earliest settlers of Virginia, meant to take it out of the +envelope, which was presumably called the shell. The analogy is +with the shelling of pulse.</p> +</div> +</div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III.</h2> +<h3>MIRANDY, HANK, AND SHOCKY.</h3> +<p>Mirandy had nothing but contempt for the new master until he +developed the bulldog in his character. Mirandy fell in love with +the bulldog. Like many other girls of her class, she was greatly +enamored with the "subjection of women," and she stood ready to +fall in love with any man strong enough to be her master. Much has +been said of the strong-minded woman. I offer this psychological +remark as a contribution to the natural history of the weak-minded +woman.</p> +<p>It was at the close of that very second day on which Ralph had +achieved his first victory over the school, and in which Mirandy +had been seized with her desperate passion for him, that she told +him about it. Not in words. We do not allow <i>that</i> in the most +civilized countries, and still less would it be tolerated in +Hoopole County. But Mirandy told the master the fact that she was +in love with him, though no word passed her lips. She walked by him +from school. She cast at him what are commonly called sheep's-eyes. +Ralph thought them more like calf's eyes. She changed the whole +tone of her voice. She whined ordinarily. Now she whimpered. And so +by ogling him, by blushing at him, by tittering at him, by giggling +at him, by snickering at him, by simpering at him, by making +herself tenfold more a fool even than nature had made her, she +managed to convey to the dismayed soul of the young teacher the +frightful intelligence that he was loved by the richest, the +ugliest, the silliest, the coarsest, and the most entirely +contemptible girl in Flat Creek district.</p> +<p>Ralph sat by the fire the next morning trying to read a few +minutes before school-time, while the boys were doing the chores +and the bound girl was milking the cows, with no one in the room +but the old woman. She was generally as silent as Bud, but now she +seemed for some unaccountable reason disposed to talk. She had sat +down on the broad hearth to have her usual morning smoke; the +poplar table, adorned by no cloth, stood in the middle of the +floor; the unwashed blue teacups sat in the unwashed blue saucers; +the unwashed blue plates kept company with the begrimed blue +pitcher. The dirty skillets by the fire were kept in countenance by +the dirtier pots, and the ashes were drifted and strewn over the +hearth-stones in a most picturesque way.</p> +<p>"You see," said the old woman, knocking the residuum from her +cob pipe, and chafing some dry leaf between her withered hands +preparatory to filling it again, "you see, Mr. Hartsook, my ole +man's purty well along in the world. He's got a right smart lot of +this world's plunder<a name="FNanchor_11_11" id= +"FNanchor_11_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_11" class= +"fnanchor">[11]</a>, one way and another." And while she stuffed +the tobacco into her pipe Ralph wondered why she should mention it +to him. "You see, we moved in here nigh upon twenty-five years ago. +'Twas when my Jack, him as died afore Bud was born, was a baby. +Bud'll be twenty-one the fif' of next June."</p> +<p>Here Mrs. Means stopped to rake a live coal out of the fire with +her skinny finger, and then to carry it in her skinny palm to the +bowl—or to the <i>hole</i>—of her cob pipe. When she +got the smoke a-going, she proceeded:</p> +<p>"You see, this yere bottom land was all Congress land<a name= +"FNanchor_12_12" id="FNanchor_12_12"></a><a href="#Footnote_12_12" +class="fnanchor">[12]</a> in them there days, and it sold for a +dollar and a quarter, and I says to my ole man, 'Jack,' says I, +'Jack, do you git a plenty while you're a-gittin'. Git a plenty +while you're a-gittin',' says I, 'fer 'twon't never be no cheaper'n +'tis now,' and it ha'n't been; I knowed 'twouldn't," and Mrs. Means +took the pipe from her mouth to indulge in a good chuckle at the +thought of her financial shrewdness. "'Git a plenty while you're +a-gittin' says I. I could see, you know, they was a powerful sight +of money in Congress land. That's what made me say, 'Git a plenty +while you're a-gittin'.' And Jack, he's wuth lots and gobs of +money, all made out of Congress land. Jack didn't git rich by hard +work. Bless you, no! Not him. That a'n't his way. Hard work a'n't, +you know. 'Twas that air six hundred dollars he got along of me, +all salted down into Flat Crick bottoms at a dollar and a quarter +a' acre, and 'twas my sayin' 'Git a plenty while you're a gittin'' +as done it." And here the old ogre laughed, or grinned horribly, at +Ralph, showing her few straggling, discolored teeth.</p> +<p>Then she got up and knocked the ashes out of her pipe, and laid +the pipe away and walked round In front of Ralph. After adjusting +the chunks<a name="FNanchor_13_13" id="FNanchor_13_13"></a><a href= +"#Footnote_13_13" class="fnanchor">[13]</a> so that the fire would +burn, she turned her yellow face toward Ralph, and scanning him +closely came out with the climax of her speech in the remark: "You +see as how, Mr. Hartsook, the man what gits my Mirandy'll do well. +Flat Crick land's wuth nigt upon a hundred a' acre."</p> +<p>This gentle hint came near knocking Ralph down. Had Flat Creek +land been worth a hundred times a hundred dollars an acre, and had +he owned five hundred times Means's five hundred acres, he would +have given it all just at that moment to have annihilated the whole +tribe of Meanses. Except Bud. Bud was a giant, but a good-natured +one. He thought he would except Bud from the general destruction. +As for the rest, he mentally pictured to himself the pleasure of +attending their funerals. There was one thought, however, between +him and despair. He felt confident that the cordiality, the +intensity, and the persistency of his dislike of Sis Means were +such that he should never inherit a foot of the Flat Creek +bottoms.</p> +<p>But what about Bud? What if he joined the conspiracy to marry +him to this weak-eyed, weak-headed wood-nymph, or backwoods +nymph?</p> +<p>If Ralph felt it a misfortune to be loved by Mirandy Means, he +found himself almost equally unfortunate in having incurred the +hatred of the meanest boy in school. "Hank" Banta, low-browed, +smirky, and crafty, was the first sufferer by Ralph's determination +to use corporal punishment, and so Henry Banta, who was a compound +of deceit and resentment, never lost an opportunity to annoy the +young school-master, who was obliged to live perpetually on his +guard against his tricks.</p> +<p>One morning, as Ralph walked toward the school-house, he met +little Shocky. What the boy's first name or last name was the +teacher did not know. He had given his name as Shocky, and all the +teacher knew was that he was commonly called Shocky, that he was an +orphan, that he lived with a family named Pearson over in Rocky +Hollow, and that he was the most faithful and affectionate child in +the school. On this morning that I speak of, Ralph had walked +toward the school early to avoid the company of Mirandy. But not +caring to sustain his dignity longer than was necessary, he +loitered along the road, admiring the trunks of the maples, and +picking up a beech-nut now and then. Just as he was about to go on +toward the school, he caught sight of little Shocky running swiftly +toward him, but looking from side to side, as if afraid of being +seen.</p> +<div class="figcenter"><br /> +<a href="images/illus-067.jpg"><img src="images/illus-067.jpg" +width="45%" alt="" title="" /></a><br /> +<b>BETSY SHORT</b> +<br /></div> +<p>"Well, Shocky, what is it?" and Ralph put his hand kindly on the +great bushy head of white hair from which came Shocky's nickname. +Shocky had to pant a minute.</p> +<p>"Why, Mr. Hartsook," he gasped, scratching his head, "they's a +pond down under the school-house," and here Shocky's breath gave +out entirely for a minute.</p> +<p>"Yes, Shocky, I know that. What about it? The trustees haven't +come to fill it up, have they?"</p> +<p>"Oh! no, sir; but Hank Banta, you know—" and Shocky took +another breathing spell, standing as dose to Ralph as he could, for +poor Shocky got all his sunshine from the master's presence.</p> +<p>"Has Henry fallen in and got a ducking, Shocky?"</p> +<p>"Oh! no, sir; he wants to git you in, you see."</p> +<p>"Well, I won't go in, though, Shocky."</p> +<p>"But, you see, he's been and gone and pulled back the board that +you have to step on to git ahind your desk; he's been and gone and +pulled back the board so as you can't help a-tippin' it up, and +a-sowsin' right in ef you step there."</p> +<p>"And so you came to tell me." There was a huskiness in Ralph's +voice. He had, then, one friend in Flat Creek district—poor +little Shocky. He put his arm around Shocky just a moment, and then +told him to hasten across to the other road, so as to come back to +the school-house in a direction at right angles to the master's +approach. But the caution was not needed. Shocky had taken care to +leave in that way, and was altogether too cunning to be seen coming +down the road with Mr. Hartsook. But after he got over the fence to +go through the "sugar camp" (or sugar <i>orchard</i>, as they say +at the East), he stopped and turned back once or twice, just to +catch one more smile from Ralph. And then he hied away through the +tall trees, a very happy boy, kicking and ploughing the brown +leaves before him in his perfect delight, saying over and over +again: "How he looked at me! how he did look!" And when Ralph came +up to the school-house door, there was Shocky sauntering along from +the other direction, throwing bits of limestone at fence rails, and +smiling still clear down to his shoes at thought of the master's +kind words.</p> +<p>"What a quare boy Shocky is!" remarked Betsey Short, with a +giggle. "He just likes to wander round alone. I see him a-comin' +out of the sugar camp just now. He's been in there half an hour." +And Betsey giggled again; for Betsey Short could giggle on slighter +provocation than any other girl on Flat Creek.</p> +<p>When Ralph Hartsook, with the quiet, dogged tread that he was +cultivating, walked into the school-room, he took great care not to +seem to see the trap set for him; but he carelessly stepped over +the board that had been so nicely adjusted. The boys who were +Hank's confidants in the plot were very busy over their slates, and +took pains not to show their disappointment.</p> +<p>The morning session wore on without incident. Ralph several +times caught two people looking at him. One was Mirandy. Her weak +and watery eyes stole loving glances over the top of her +spelling-book, which she would not study. Her looks made Ralph's +spirits sink to forty below zero, and congeal.</p> +<p>But on one of the backless little benches that sat in the middle +of the school-room was little Shocky, who also cast many love +glances at the young master; glances as grateful to his heart as +Mirandy's ogling—he was tempted to call it ogring—was +hateful.</p> +<p>"Look at Shocky," giggled Betsey Short, behind her slate. "He +looks as if he was a-goin' to eat the master up, body and +soul."</p> +<p>And so the forenoon wore on as usual, and those who laid the +trap had forgotten it, themselves. The morning session was drawing +to a close. The fire in the great old fire-place had burnt low. The +flames, which seemed to Shocky to be angels, had disappeared, and +now the bright coals, which had played the part of men and women +and houses in Shocky's fancy, had taken on a white and downy +covering of ashes, and the great half-burnt back-log lay there +smouldering like a giant asleep in a snow-drift. Shocky longed to +wake him up.</p> +<p>As for Henry Banta, he was too much bothered to get the answer +to a "sum" he was doing, to remember anything about his trap. In +fact, he had quite forgotten that half an hour ago in the +all-absorbing employment of drawing ugly pictures on his slate and +coaxing Betsey Short to giggle by showing them slyly across the +school-room. Once or twice Ralph had been attracted to Betsey's +extraordinary fits of giggling, and had come so near to catching +Hank that the boy thought it best not to run any further risk of +the beech switches, four or five feet long, laid up behind the +master in sight of the school as a prophylactic. Hence his +application just now to his "sum" in long division, and hence his +puzzled look, for, idler that he was, his "sums" did not solve +themselves easily. As usual in such cases, he came up in front of +the master's desk to have the difficulty explained. He had to wait +a minute until Ralph got through with showing Betsey Short, who had +been seized with a studying fit, and who could hardly give any +attention to the teacher's explanations, she did want to giggle so +much! Not at anything in particular, but just at things in +general.</p> +<p>While Ralph was "doing" Betsey's "sum" for her, he was solving a +much more difficult question. A plan had flashed upon him, but the +punishment seemed a severe one. He gave it up once or twice, but he +remembered how turbulent the Flat Creek elements were; and had he +not inly resolved to be as unrelenting as a bulldog? He fortified +himself by recalling again the oft-remembered remark of Bud, "Ef +Bull wunst takes a holt, heaven and yarth can't make him let go." +And so he resolved to give Hank and the whole school one good +lesson.</p> +<p>"Just step round behind me, Henry, and you can see how I do +this," said Ralph.</p> +<p>Hank was entirely off his guard, and, with his eyes fixed upon +the slate on the teacher's desk, he sidled round upon the broad +loose board misplaced by his own hand, and in an instant the other +end of the board rose up in the middle of the school-room, almost +striking Shocky in the face, while Henry Banta went down into the +ice-cold water beneath the school-house.</p> +<p>"Why, Henry!" cried Ralph, jumping to his feet with well-feigned +surprise. "How <i>did</i> this happen?" him by the fire.</p> +<p>Betsey Short giggled.</p> +<p>Shocky was so tickled that he could hardly keep his seat.</p> +<p>The boys who were in the plot looked very serious indeed.</p> +<p>Ralph made some remarks by way of improving the occasion. He +spoke strongly of the utter meanness of the one who could play so +heartless a trick on a schoolmate. He said that it was as much +thieving to get your fun at the expense of another as to steal his +money. And while he talked, all eyes were turned on Hank—all +except the eyes of Mirandy Means. They looked simperingly at Ralph. +All the rest looked at Hank. The fire had made his face very red. +Shocky noticed that. Betsey Short noticed it, and giggled. The +master wound up with an appropriate quotation from Scripture. He +said that the person who displaced that board had better not be +encouraged by the success—he said <i>success</i> with a +curious emphasis—of the present experiment to attempt another +trick of the kind. For it was set down in the Bible that if a man +dug a pit for the feet of another he would be very likely to fall +in it himself. Which made all the pupils look solemn, except Betsey +Short, who giggled. And Shocky wanted to. And Mirandy cast an +expiring look at Ralph. And if the teacher was not love-sick, he +certainly was sick of Mirandy's love.</p> +<div class="figcenter"><br /> +<a href="images/illus-075.jpg"><img src="images/illus-075.jpg" +width="45%" alt="" title="" /></a><br /> +<b>HANK BANTA'S IMPROVED PLUNGE BATH</b> +<br /></div> +<p>When school was "let out," Ralph gave Hank every caution that he +could about taking cold, and even lent him his overcoat, very much +against Hank's will. For Hank had obstinately refused to go home +before the school was dismissed.</p> +<p>Then the master walked out in a quiet and subdued way to spend +the noon recess in the woods, while Shocky watched his retreating +footsteps with loving admiration. And the pupils not in the secret +canvassed the question of who moved the board. Bill Means said he'd +bet Hank did it, which set Betsey Short off in an uncontrollable +giggle. And Shocky listened innocently.</p> +<p>But that night Bud said slyly: "Thunder and lightning! what a +manager you <i>air</i>, Mr. Hartsook!" To which Ralph returned no +reply except a friendly smile. Muscle paid tribute to brains that +time.</p> +<p>But Ralph had no time for exultation; for just here came the +spelling-school.</p> +<div class="footnotes"> +<p class="center">FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"> +<p><a name="Footnote_11_11" id="Footnote_11_11"></a><a href= +"#FNanchor_11_11"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> This word +<i>plunder</i> is probably from Pennsylvania, as it is exactly +equivalent to the German word <i>plunder</i>, in the sense of +household effects, the original meaning of the word in German. Any +kind of baggage may be called <i>plunder</i>, but the most accepted +sense is household goods. It is quite seriously used. I have seen +bills of lading on the Western waters certifying that A.B. had +shipped "1 lot of plunder;" that is, household goods. It is here +used figuratively for goods in general.</p> +</div> +<div class="footnote"> +<p><a name="Footnote_12_12" id="Footnote_12_12"></a><a href= +"#FNanchor_12_12"><span class="label">[12]</span></a> <i>Congress +land</i> was the old designation for land owned by the government. +Under the Confederation, the Congress was the government, and the +forms of speech seem to have long retained the notion that what +belonged to the United States was the property of Congress.</p> +</div> +<div class="footnote"> +<p><a name="Footnote_13_13" id="Footnote_13_13"></a><a href= +"#FNanchor_13_13"><span class="label">[13]</span></a> The commonest +use of the word <i>chunk</i> in the old days was for the ends of +the sticks of cord-wood burned in the great fireplaces. As the +sticks burned in two, the chunks fell down or rolled back on the +wall side of the andirons. By putting the chunks together, a new +fire was set a-going without fresh wood. This use of the word is +illustrated in a folk-rhyme or nursery jingle of the country which +has neither sense nor elegance to recommend it:</p> +<div><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">"Old Mother +Hunk</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">She got drunk</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">And fell in the fire</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">And kicked up a +chunk."</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV.</h2> +<h3>SPELLING DOWN THE MASTER.</h3> +<p>"I 'low," said Mrs. Means, as she stuffed the tobacco into her +cob pipe after supper on that eventful Wednesday evening: "I 'low +they'll app'int the Squire to gin out the words to-night. They mos' +always do, you see, kase he's the peartest<a name="FNanchor_14_14" +id="FNanchor_14_14"></a><a href="#Footnote_14_14" class= +"fnanchor">[14]</a> <i>ole</i> man in this deestrick; and I 'low +some of the young fellers would have to git up and dust ef they +would keep up to him. And he uses sech remarkable smart words. He +speaks so polite, too. But laws! don't I remember when he was +poarer nor Job's turkey? Twenty year ago, when he come to these +'ere diggings, that air Squire Hawkins was a poar Yankee +school-master, that said 'pail' instid of bucket, and that called a +cow a 'caow,' and that couldn't tell to save his gizzard what we +meant by '<i>low</i><a name="FNanchor_15_15" id= +"FNanchor_15_15"></a><a href="#Footnote_15_15" class= +"fnanchor">[15]</a> and by <i>right smart</i><a name= +"FNanchor_16_16" id="FNanchor_16_16"></a><a href="#Footnote_16_16" +class="fnanchor">[16]</a>. But he's larnt our ways now, an' he's +jest as civilized as the rest of us. You would-n know he'd ever +been a Yankee. He didn't stay poar long. Not he. He jest married a +right rich girl! He! he!" And the old woman grinned at Ralph, and +then at Mirandy, and then at the rest, until Ralph shuddered. +Nothing was so frightful to him as to be fawned on by this grinning +ogre, whose few lonesome, blackish teeth seemed ready to devour +him. "He didn't stay poar, you bet a hoss!" and with this the coal +was deposited on the pipe, and the lips began to crack like +parchment as each puff of smoke escaped. "He married rich, you +see," and here another significant look at the young master, and +another fond look at Mirandy, as she puffed away reflectively. "His +wife hadn't no book-larnin'. She'd been through the spellin'-book +wunst, and had got as fur as 'asperity' on it a second time. But +she couldn't read a word when she was married, and never could. She +warn't overly smart. She hadn't hardly got the sense the law +allows. But schools was skase in them air days, and, besides, +book-larnin' don't do no good to a woman. Makes her stuck up. I +never knowed but one gal in my life as had ciphered into fractions, +and she was so dog-on stuck up that she turned up her nose one +night at a apple-peelin' bekase I tuck a sheet off the bed to +splice out the table-cloth, which was rather short. And the sheet +was mos' clean too. Had-n been slep on more'n wunst or twicet. But +I was goin' fer to say that when Squire Hawkins married Virginny +Gray he got a heap o' money, or, what's the same thing mostly, a +heap o' good land. And that's better'n book-larnin', says I. Ef a +gal had gone clean through all eddication, and got to the rule of +three itself, that would-n buy a feather-bed. Squire Hawkins jest +put eddication agin the gal's farm, and traded even, an' ef ary one +of 'em got swindled, I never heerd no complaints."</p> +<p>And here she looked at Ralph in triumph, her hard face +splintering into the hideous semblance of a smile. And Mirandy cast +a blushing, gushing, all-imploring, and all-confiding look on the +young master.</p> +<p>"I say, ole woman," broke in old Jack, "I say, wot is all this +'ere spoutin' about the Square fer?" and old Jack, having bit off +an ounce of "pigtail," returned the plug to his pocket.</p> +<p>As for Ralph, he fell into a sort of terror. He had a guilty +feeling that this speech of the old lady's had somehow committed +him beyond recall to Mirandy. He did not see visions of +breach-of-promise suits. But he trembled at the thought of an +avenging big brother.</p> +<p>"Hanner, you kin come along, too, ef you're a mind, when you git +the dishes washed," said Mrs. Means to the bound girl, as she shut +and latched the back door. The Means family had built a new house +in front of the old one, as a sort of advertisement of bettered +circumstances, an eruption of shoddy feeling; but when the new +building was completed, they found themselves unable to occupy it +for anything else than a lumber room, and so, except a parlor which +Mirandy had made an effort to furnish a little (in hope of the +blissful time when somebody should "set up" with her of evenings), +the new building was almost unoccupied, and the family went in and +out through the back door, which, indeed, was the front door also, +for, according to a curious custom, the "front" of the house was +placed toward the south, though the "big road" (Hoosier for +<i>highway</i>) ran along the north-west side, or, rather, past the +north-west corner of it.</p> +<p>When the old woman had spoken thus to Hannah and had latched the +door, she muttered, "That gal don't never show no gratitude fer +favors;" to which Bud rejoined that he didn't think she had no +great sight to be pertickler thankful fer. To which Mrs. Means made +no reply, thinking it best, perhaps, not to wake up her dutiful son +on so interesting a theme as her treatment of Hannah. Ralph felt +glad that he was this evening to go to another boarding place. He +should not hear the rest of the controversy.</p> +<p>Ralph walked to the school-house with Bill. They were friends +again. For when Hank Banta's ducking and his dogged obstinacy in +sitting in his wet clothes had brought on a serious fever, Ralph +had called together the big boys, and had said: "We must take care +of one another, boys. Who will volunteer to take turns sitting up +with Henry?" He put his own name down, and all the rest +followed.</p> +<p>"William Means and myself will sit up to-night," said Ralph. And +poor Bill had been from that moment the teacher's friend. He was +chosen to be Ralph's companion. He was Puppy Means no longer! Hank +could not be conquered by kindness, and the teacher was made to +feel the bitterness of his resentment long after. But Bill Means +was for the time entirely placated, and he and Ralph went to +spelling-school together.</p> +<p>Every family furnished a candle. There were yellow dips and +white dips, burning, smoking, and flaring. There was laughing, and +talking, and giggling, and simpering, and ogling, and flirting, and +courting. What a full-dress party is to Fifth Avenue, a +spelling-school is to Hoopole County. It is an occasion which is +metaphorically inscribed with this legend: "Choose your partners." +Spelling is only a blind in Hoopole County, as is dancing on Fifth +Avenue. But as there are some in society who love dancing for its +own sake, so in Flat Creek district there were those who loved +spelling for its own sake, and who, smelling the battle from afar, +had come to try their skill in this tournament, hoping to freshen +the laurels they had won in their school-days.</p> +<p>"I 'low," said Mr. Means, speaking as the principal school +trustee, "I 'low our friend the Square is jest the man to boss this +'ere consarn to-night. Ef nobody objects, I'll app'int him. Come, +Square, don't be bashful. Walk up to the trough, fodder or no +fodder, as the man said to his donkey."</p> +<p>There was a general giggle at this, and many of the young swains +took occasion to nudge the girls alongside them, ostensibly for the +purpose of making them see the joke, but really for the pure +pleasure of nudging. The Greeks figured Cupid as naked, probably +because he wears so many disguises that they could not select a +costume for him.</p> +<p>The Squire came to the front. Ralph made an inventory of the +agglomeration which bore the name of Squire Hawkins, as +follows:</p> +<p>1. A swallow-tail coat of indefinite age, worn only on state +occasions^ when its owner was called to figure in his public +capacity. Either the Squire had grown too large or the coat too +small.</p> +<p>2. A pair of black gloves, the most phenomenal, abnormal, and +unexpected apparition conceivable in Flat Creek district, where the +preachers wore no coats in the summer, and where a black glove was +never seen except on the hands of the Squire.</p> +<p>3. A wig of that dirty, waxen color so common to wigs. This one +showed a continual inclination to slip off the owner's smooth, bald +pate, and the Squire had frequently to adjust it. As his hair had +been red, the wig did not accord with his face, and the hair +ungrayed was doubly discordant with a countenance shrivelled by +age.</p> +<p>4. A semicircular row of whiskers hedging the edge of the jaw +and chin. These were dyed a frightful dead-black, such a color as +belonged to no natural hair or beard that ever existed. At the +roots there was a quarter of an inch of white, giving the whiskers +the appearance of having been stuck on.</p> +<p>5. A pair of spectacles "with tortoise-shell rim." Wont to slip +off.</p> +<p>6. A glass eye, purchased of a peddler, and differing in color +from its natural mate, perpetually getting out of focus by turning +in or out.</p> +<p>7. A set of false teeth, badly fitted, and given to bobbing up +and down.</p> +<p>8. The Squire proper, to whom these patches were loosely +attached.</p> +<p>It is an old story that a boy wrote home to his father begging +him to come West, because "mighty mean men get into office out +here." But Ralph concluded that some Yankees had taught school in +Hoopole County who would not have held a high place in the +educational institutions of Massachusetts. Hawkins had some New +England idioms, but they were well overlaid by a Western +pronunciation.</p> +<p>"Ladies and gentlemen," he began, shoving up his spectacles, and +sucking his lips over his white teeth to keep them in place, +"ladies and gentlemen, young men and maidens, raley I'm obleeged to +Mr. Means fer this honor," and the Squire took both hands and +turned the top of his head round half an inch. Then he adjusted his +spectacles. Whether he was obliged to Mr. Means for the honor of +being compared to a donkey was not clear. "I feel in the inmost +compartments of my animal spirits a most happifying sense of the +success and futility of all my endeavors to sarve the people of +Flat Creek deestrick, and the people of Tomkins township, in my +weak way and manner." This burst of eloquence was delivered with a +constrained air and an apparent sense of a danger that he, Squire +Hawkins, might fall to pieces in his weak way and manner, and of +the success and futility of all attempts at reconstruction. For by +this time the ghastly pupil of the left eye, which was black, was +looking away round to the left, while the little blue one on the +right twinkled cheerfully toward the front. The front teeth would +drop down so that the Squire's mouth was kept nearly closed, and +his words whistled through.</p> +<p>"I feel as if I could be grandiloquent on this interesting +occasion," twisting his scalp round, "but raley I must forego any +such exertions. It is spelling you want. Spelling is the +corner-stone, the grand, underlying subterfuge, of a good +eddication. I put the spellin'-book prepared by the great Daniel +Webster alongside the Bible. I do, raley. I think I may put it +ahead of the Bible. For if it wurn't fer spellin'-books and sich +occasions as these, where would the Bible be? I should like to +know. The man who got up, who compounded this work of inextricable +valoo was a benufactor to the whole human race or any other." Here +the spectacles fell off. The Squire replaced them in some +confusion, gave the top of his head another twist, and felt of his +glass eye, while poor Shocky stared in wonder, and Betsey Short +rolled from side to side in the effort to suppress her giggle. Mrs. +Means and the other old ladies looked the applause they could not +speak.</p> +<p>"I app'int Larkin Lanham and Jeems Buchanan fer captings," said +the Squire. And the two young men thus named took a stick and +tossed it from hand to hand to decide which should have the "first +choice." One tossed the stick to the other, who held it fast just +where he happened to catch it. Then the first placed his hand above +the second, and so the hands were alternately changed to the top. +The one who held the stick last without room for the other to take +hold had gained the lot. This was tried three times. As Larkin held +the stick twice out of three times, he had the choice. He hesitated +a moment. Everybody looked toward tall Jim Phillips. But Larkin was +fond of a venture on unknown seas, and so he said, "I take the +master," while a buzz of surprise ran round the room, and the +captain of the other side, as if afraid his opponent would withdraw +the choice, retorted quickly, and with a little smack of exultation +and defiance in his voice, "And <i>I</i> take Jeems Phillips."</p> +<p>And soon all present, except a few of the old folks, found +themselves ranged in opposing hosts, the poor spellers lagging in, +with what grace they could, at the foot of the two divisions. The +Squire opened his spelling-book and began to give out the words to +the two captains, who stood up and spelled against each other. It +was not long until Larkin spelled "really" with one <i>l</i>, and +had to sit down in confusion, while a murmur of satisfaction ran +through the ranks of the opposing forces. His own side bit their +lips. The slender figure of the young teacher took the place of the +fallen leader, and the excitement made the house very quiet. Ralph +dreaded the loss of prestige he would suffer if he should be easily +spelled down. And at the moment of rising he saw in the darkest +corner the figure of a well-dressed young man sitting in the +shadow. Why should his evil genius haunt him? But by a strong +effort he turned his attention away from Dr. Small, and listened +carefully to the words which the Squire did not pronounce very +distinctly, spelling them with extreme deliberation. This gave him +an air of hesitation which disappointed those on his own side. They +wanted him to spell with a dashing assurance. But he did not begin +a word until he had mentally felt his way through it. After ten +minutes of spelling hard words Jeems Buchanan, the captain on the +other side, spelled "atrocious" with an <i>s</i> instead of a +<i>c</i>, and subsided, his first choice, Jeems Phillips, coming up +against the teacher. This brought the excitement to fever-heat. For +though Ralph was chosen first, it was entirely on trust, and most +of the company were disappointed. The champion who now stood up +against the school-master was a famous speller.</p> +<p>Jim Phillips was a tall, lank, stoop-shouldered fellow who had +never distinguished himself in any other pursuit than spelling. +Except in this one art of spelling he was of no account. He could +not catch well or bat well in ball. He could not throw well enough +to make his mark in that famous West ern game of bull-pen. He did +not succeed well in any study but that of Webster's Elementary. But +in that he was—to use the usual Flat Creek locution—in +that he was "a boss." This genius for spelling is in some people a +sixth sense, a matter of intuition. Some spellers are born, and not +made, and their facility reminds one of the mathematical prodigies +that crop out every now and then to bewilder the world. Bud Means, +foreseeing that Ralph would be pitted against Jim Phillips, had +warned his friend that Jim could "spell like thunder and +lightning," and that it "took a powerful smart speller" to beat +him, for he knew "a heap of spelling-book." To have "spelled down +the master" is next thing to having whipped the biggest bully in +Hoopole County, and Jim had "spelled down" the last three masters. +He divided the hero-worship of the district with Bud Means.</p> +<p>For half an hour the Squire gave out hard words. What a blessed +thing our crooked orthography is! Without it there could be no +spelling-schools. As Ralph discovered his opponent's mettle he +became more and more cautious. He was now satisfied that Jim would +eventually beat him. The fellow evidently knew more about the +spelling-book than old Noah Webster himself. As he stood there, +with his dull face and long sharp nose, his hands behind his back, +and his voice spelling infallibly, it seemed to Hartsook that his +superiority must lie in his nose. Ralph's cautiousness answered a +double purpose; it enabled him to tread surely, and it was mistaken +by Jim for weakness. Phillips was now confident that he should +carry off the scalp of the fourth school-master before the evening +was over. He spelled eagerly, confidently, brilliantly. +Stoop-shouldered as he was, he began to straighten up. In the minds +of all the company the odds were in his favor. He saw this, and +became ambitious to distinguish himself by spelling without giving +the matter any thought.</p> +<p>Ralph always believed that he would have been speedily defeated +by Phillips had it not been for two thoughts which braced him. The +sinister shadow of young Dr. Small sitting in the dark corner by +the water-bucket nerved him. A victory over Phillips was a defeat +to one who wished only ill to the young school-master. The other +thought that kept his pluck alive was the recollection of Bull. He +approached a word as Bull approached the raccoon. He did not take +hold until he was sure of his game. When he took hold, it was with +a quiet assurance of success. As Ralph spelled in this dogged way +for half an hour the hardest words the Squire could find, the +excitement steadily rose in all parts of the house, and Ralph's +friends even ventured to whisper that "maybe Jim had cotched his +match, after all!"</p> +<p>But Phillips never doubted of his success.</p> +<p>"Theodolite," said the Squire.</p> +<p>"T-h-e, the o-d, od, theod, o, theodo, l-y-t-e, theodolite," +spelled the champion.</p> +<p>"Next," said the Squire, nearly losing his teeth In his +excitement. Ralph spelled the word slowly and correctly, and the +conquered champion sat down In confusion. The excitement was so +great for some minutes that the spelling was suspended. Everybody +In the house had shown sympathy with one or the other of the +combatants, except the silent shadow in the corner. It had not +moved during the contest, and did not show any interest now in the +result.</p> +<p>"Gewhilliky crickets! Thunder and lightning! Licked him all to +smash!" said Bud, rubbing his hands on his knees, "That beats my +time all holler!"</p> +<p>And Betsey Short giggled until her tuck-comb fell out, though +she was on the defeated side.</p> +<p>Shocky got up and danced with pleasure.</p> +<p>But one suffocating look from the aqueous eyes of Mirandy +destroyed the last spark of Ralph's pleasure in his triumph, and +sent that awful below-zero feeling all through him.</p> +<p>"He's powerful smart, is the master," said old Jack to Mr. Pete +Jones. "He'll beat the whole kit and tuck of 'em afore he's +through. I know'd he was smart. That's the reason I tuck him," +proceeded Mr. Means.</p> +<p>"Yaas, but he don't lick enough. Not nigh," answered Pete Jones. +"No lickin', no larnin', says I."</p> +<p>It was now not so hard. The other spellers on the opposite side +went down quickly under the hard words which the Squire gave out. +The master had mowed down all but a few, his opponents had given up +the battle, and all had lost their keen interest in a contest to +which there could be but one conclusion, for there were only the +poor spellers left. But Ralph Hartsook ran against a stump where he +was least expecting it. It was the Squire's custom, when one of the +smaller scholars or poorer spellers rose to spell against the +master, to give out eight or ten easy words, that they might have +some breathing-spell before being slaughtered, and then to give a +poser or two which soon settled them. He let them run a little, as +a cat does a doomed mouse. There was now but one person left on the +opposite side, and, as she rose in her blue calico dress, Ralph +recognized Hannah, the bound girl at old Jack Means's. She had not +attended school in the district, and had never spelled in +spelling-school before, and was chosen last as an uncertain +quantity. The Squire began with easy words of two syllables, from +that page of Webster, so well known to all who ever thumbed it, as +"baker," from the word that stands at the top of the page. She +spelled these words in an absent and uninterested manner. As +everybody knew that she would have to go down as soon as this +preliminary skirmishing was over, everybody began to get ready to +go home, and already there was the buzz of preparation. Young men +were timidly asking girls if "they could see them safe home," which +was the approved formula, and were trembling in mortal fear of "the +mitten." Presently the Squire, thinking it time to close the +contest, pulled his scalp forward, adjusted his glass eye, which +had been examining his nose long enough, and turned over the leaves +of the book to the great words at the place known to spellers as +"incomprehensibility," and began to give out those "words of eight +syllables with the accent on the sixth." Listless scholars now +turned round, and ceased to whisper, in order to be in at the +master's final triumph. But to their surprise "ole Miss Meanses' +white nigger," as some of them called her in allusion to her +slavish life, spelled these great words with as perfect ease as the +master. Still not doubting the result, the Squire turned from place +to place and selected all the hard words he could find. The school +became utterly quiet, the excitement was too great for the ordinary +buzz. Would "Meanses' Hanner" beat the master? beat the master that +had laid out Jim Phillips? Everybody's sympathy was now turned to +Hannah. Ralph noticed that even Shocky had deserted him, and that +his face grew brilliant every time Hannah spelled a word. In fact, +Ralph deserted himself. As he saw the fine, timid face of the girl +so long oppressed flush and shine with interest; as he looked at +the rather low but broad and intelligent brow and the fresh, white +complexion and saw the rich, womanly nature coming to the surface +under the influence of applause and sympathy—he did not want +to beat. If he had not felt that a victory given would insult her, +he would have missed intentionally. The bulldog, the stern, +relentless setting of the will, had gone, he knew not whither. And +there had come in its place, as he looked in that face, a something +which he did not understand. You did not, gentle reader, the first +time it came to you.</p> +<p>The Squire was puzzled. He had given out all the hard words in +the book. He again pulled the top of his head forward. Then he +wiped his spectacles and put them on. Then out of the depths of his +pocket he fished up a list of words just coming into use in those +days—words not in the spelling-book. He regarded the paper +attentively with his blue right eye. His black left eye meanwhile +fixed itself in such a stare on Mirandy Means that she shuddered +and hid her eyes in her red silk handkerchief.</p> +<p>"Daguerreotype," sniffed the Squire. It was Ralph's turn.</p> +<p>"D-a-u, dau—"</p> +<p>"Next."</p> +<p>And Hannah spelled it right.</p> +<p>Such a buzz followed that Betsey Short's giggle could not be +heard, but Shocky shouted: "Hanner beat! my Hanner spelled down the +master!" And Ralph went over and congratulated her.</p> +<p>And Dr. Small sat perfectly still in the corner.</p> +<p>And then the Squire called them to order, and said: "As our +friend Hanner Thomson is the only one left on her side, she will +have to spell against nearly all on t'other side. I shall therefore +take the liberty of procrastinating the completion of this +interesting and exacting contest until to-morrow evening. I hope +our friend Hanner may again carry off the cypress crown of glory. +There is nothing better for us than healthful and kindly +simulation."</p> +<p>Dr. Small, who knew the road to practice, escorted Mirandy, and +Bud went home with somebody else. The others of the Means family +hurried on, while Hannah, the champion, stayed behind a minute to +speak to Shocky. Perhaps it was because Ralph saw that Hannah must +go alone that he suddenly remembered having left something which +was of no consequence, and resolved to go round by Mr. Means's and +get it.</p> +<div class="footnotes"> +<p class="center">FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"> +<p><a name="Footnote_14_14" id="Footnote_14_14"></a><a href= +"#FNanchor_14_14"><span class="label">[14]</span></a> <i>Peart</i> +or peert is only another form of the old word +<i>pert</i>—probably an older form. Bartlett cites an example +of <i>peart</i> as far back as Sir Philip Sidney; and Halliwell +finds it in various English dialects. Davies, afterward president +of Princeton College, describes Dr. Lardner, in 1754, as "a little +pert old gent." I do not know that Dr. Daries pronounced his +<i>pert</i> as though it were <i>peart</i>, but he uses it in the +sense it has in the text, viz., bright-witted, intelligent. The +general sense of <i>peart</i> is lively, either in body or +mind.</p> +</div> +<div class="footnote"> +<p><a name="Footnote_15_15" id="Footnote_15_15"></a><a href= +"#FNanchor_15_15"><span class="label">[15]</span></a> Mr. Lowell +suggested to me in 1869 that this word <i>'low</i> has no kinship +with <i>allow</i>, but is an independent word for which he gave a +Low Latin original of similar sound. I have not been able to trace +any such word, but Mr. Lowell had so much linguistic knowledge of +the out-of-the-way sort that it may be worth while to record his +impression. Bartlett is wrong in defining this word, as he is +usually in his attempts to explain dialect outside of New England. +It does not mean "to declare, assert, maintain," etc. It is nearly +the equivalent of <i>guess</i> in the Northern and Middle States, +and of <i>reckon</i> in the South. It agrees precisely with the New +England <i>calk'late</i>. Like all the rest of these words it may +have a strong sense by irony. When a man says, "I 'low that is a +purty peart sort of a hoss," he understates for the sake of +emphasis. It is rarely or never <i>allow</i>, but simply +<i>'low</i>. In common with <i>calk'late</i>, it has sometimes a +sense of purpose or expectation, as when a man says, "I 'low to go +to town to-morry."</p> +</div> +<div class="footnote"> +<p><a name="Footnote_16_16" id="Footnote_16_16"></a><a href= +"#FNanchor_16_16"><span class="label">[16]</span></a> No phrase of +the Hoosier and South-western dialect is such a stumbling-block to +the outsider as <i>right smart</i>. The writer from the North or +East will generally use it wrongly. Mrs. Stowe says, "I sold right +smart of eggs," but the Hoosier woman as I knew her would have said +"a right smart lot of eggs" or "a right smart of eggs," using the +article and understanding the noun. A farmer omitting the +preposition boasts of having "raised right smart corn" this year. +No expression could have a more vague sense than this. In the early +settlement of Minnesota it was a custom of the land officers to +require a residence of about ten days on "a claim" in order to the +establishment of a pre-emption right. One of the receivers at a +land office under Buchanan's administration was a German of much +intelligence who was very sensitive regarding his knowledge of +English. "How long has the claimant lived on his claim?" he +demanded of a Hoosier witness. "Oh, a right smart while," was the +reply. The receiver had not the faintest notion of the meaning of +the answer, but fearing to betray his ignorance of English he +allowed the land to be entered, though the claimant had spent but +about two hours in residing on his quarter-section.</p> +</div> +</div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V.</h2> +<h3>THE WALK HOME.</h3> +<p>You expect me to describe that walk. You have had enough of the +Jack Meanses and the Squire Hawkinses, and the Pete Joneses, and +the rest. You wish me to tell you now of this true-hearted girl and +her lover; of how the silvery moonbeams came down in a +shower—to use Whittier's favorite metaphor—through the +maple boughs, flecking the frozen ground with light and shadow. You +would have me tell of the evening star, not yet gone down, which +shed its benediction on them. But I shall do no such thing. For the +moon was not shining, neither did the stars give their light. The +tall, black trunks of the maples swayed and shook in the wind, +which moaned through their leafless boughs. Novelists always make +lovers walk in the moonlight. But if love is not, as the cynics +believe, all moonshine, it can at least make its own light. +Moonlight is never so little needed or heeded, never so much of an +impertinence, as in a love-scene. It was at the bottom of the first +hollow beyond the school-house that Ralph overtook the timid girl +walking swiftly through the dark. He did not ask permission to walk +with her. Love does not go by words, and there are times when +conventionality is impossible. There are people who understand one +another at once. When one soul meets another, it is not by +pass-word, nor by hailing sign, nor by mysterious grip that they +recognize. The subtlest freemasonry in the world is this +freemasonry of the spirit.</p> +<p>Ralph and Hannah knew and trusted. Ralph had admired and +wondered at the quiet drudge. But it was when, in the unaccustomed +sunshine of praise, she spread her wings a little, that he loved +her. He had seen her awake.</p> +<p>You, Miss Amelia, wish me to repeat all their love-talk. I am +afraid you'd find it dull. Love can pipe through any kind of a +reed. Ralph talked love to Hannah when he spoke of the weather, of +the crops, of the spelling-school. Weather, crops, and +spelling-school—these were what his words would say if +reported. But below all these commonplaces there vibrated something +else. One can make love a great deal better when one doesn't speak +of love. Words are so poor! Tones and modulations are better. It is +an old story that Whitefield could make an audience weep by his way +of pronouncing the word Mesopotamia. A lover can sound the whole +gamut of his affection in saying Good-morning. The solemnest +engagements ever made have been without the intervention of +speech.</p> +<p>And you, my Gradgrind friend, you think me sentimental. Two +young fools they were, walking so slowly though the night was +sharp, dallying under the trees, and dreaming of a heaven they +could not have realized if all their wishes had been granted. Of +course they were fools! Either they were fools to be so happy, or +else some other people are fools not to be. After all, dear +Gradgrind, let them be. There's no harm in it. They'll get trouble +enough before morning. Let them enjoy the evening. I am not sure +but these lovers whom we write down fools are the only wise people +after all. Is it not wise to be happy? Let them alone.</p> +<p>For the first time in three years, for the first time since she +had crossed the threshold of "Old Jack Means" and come under the +domination of Mrs. Old Jack Means, Hannah talked cheerfully, almost +gayly. It was something to have a companion to talk to. It was +something to be the victor even in a spelling-match, and to be +applauded even by Flat Creek. And so, chatting earnestly about the +most uninteresting themes, Ralph courteously helped Hannah over the +fence, and they took the usual short-cut through the "blue-grass +pasture." There came up a little shower, hardly more than a +sprinkle, but then It was so nice to have a shower just as they +reached the box-elder tree by the spring! It was so thoughtful in +Ralph to suggest that the shade of a box-elder is dense, and that +Hannah might take cold! And it was so easy for Hannah to yield to +the suggestion! Just as though she had not milked the cows in the +open lot in the worst storms of the last three years! And just as +though the house were not within a stone's-throw! Doubtless it was +not prudent to stop here. But let us deal gently with them. Who +would not stay in an earthy paradise ten minutes longer, even +though it did make purgatory the hotter afterward? And so Hannah +stayed.</p> +<p>"Tell me your circumstances," said Ralph, at last. "I am sure I +can help you in something."</p> +<p>"No, no! you cannot," and Hannah's face was clouded. "No one can +help me. Only time and God. I must go, Mr. Hartsook." And they +walked on to the front gate in silence and in some constraint. But +still in happiness.</p> +<p>As they came to the gate, Dr. Small pushed past them in his +cool, deliberate way, and mounted his horse. Ralph bade Hannah +good-night, having entirely forgotten the errand which had been his +excuse to himself for coming out of his way. He hastened to his new +home, the house of Mr. Pete Jones, the same who believed in the +inseparableness of "lickin' and larnin'."</p> +<p>"You're a purty gal, a'n't you? You're a purty gal, a'n't you? +<i>You</i> air! Yes, you <i>air</i>" and Mrs. Means seemed so +impressed with Hannah's prettiness that she choked on it, and could +get no further. "A purty gal! you! Yes! you air a mighty purty +gal!" and the old woman's voice rose till it could have been heard +half a mile. "To be a-santerin' along the big road after ten +o'clock with the master! Who knows whether he's a fit man fer +anybody to go with? Arter all I've been and gone and done fer you! +That's the way you pay me! Disgrace me! Yes, I say disgrace me! +You're a mean, deceitful thing. Stuck up bekase you spelt the +master down. Ketch <i>me</i> lettin' you got to spellin'-school +to-morry night! Ketch ME! Yes, ketch ME, I say!"</p> +<p>"Looky here, marm," said Bud, "it seems to me you're a-makin' a +blamed furss about nothin'. Don't yell so's they'll hear you three +or four mile. You'll have everybody 'tween here and Clifty waked +up." For Mrs. Means had become so excited over the idea of being +caught allowing Hannah to go to spelling-school that she had raised +her last "Ketch me!" to a perfect whoop.</p> +<p>"That's the way I'm treated," whimpered the old woman, who knew +how to take the "injured innocence" dodge as well as anybody. +"That's the way I'm treated. You allers take sides with that air +hussy agin your own flesh and blood. You don't keer how much +trouble I have. Not you. Not a dog-on'd bit. I may be disgraced by +that air ongrateful critter, and you set right here in my own house +and sass me about it. A purty fellow you air! An' me a-delvin' and +a-drudgin' fer you all my born days. A purty son, a'n't you?"</p> +<p>Bud did not say another word. He sat in the chimney-corner and +whistled "Dandy Jim from Caroline." His diversion had produced the +effect he sought: for while his tender-hearted mother poured her +broadside into his iron-clad feelings, Hannah had slipped up the +stairs to her garret bedroom, and when Mrs. Means turned from the +callous Bud to finish her assault upon the sensitive girl, she +could only gnash her teeth in disappointment.</p> +<p>Stung by the insults to which she could not grow insensible, +Hannah lay awake until the memory of that walk through the darkness +came into her soul like a benediction. The harsh voice of the scold +died out, and the gentle and courteous voice of Hartsook filled her +soul. She recalled piece by piece the whole conversation—all +the commonplace remarks about the weather; all the insignificant +remarks about the crops; all the unimportant words about the +spelling-school. Not for the sake of the remarks. Not for the sake +of the weather. Not for the sake of the crops. Not for the sake of +the spelling-school. But for the sake of the undertone. And then +she traveled back over the three years of her bondage and forward +over the three years to come, and fed her heart on the dim hope of +rebuilding in some form the home that had been so happy. And she +prayed, with more faith than ever before, for deliverance. For love +brings faith. Somewhere on in the sleepless night she stood at the +window. The moon was shining now, and there was the path through +the pasture, and there was the fence, and there was the +box-elder.</p> +<p>She sat there a long time. Then she saw someone come over the +fence and walk to the tree, and then on toward Pete Jones's. Who +could it be? She thought she recognized the figure. But she was +chilled and shivering, and she crept back again into bed, and +dreamed not of the uncertain days to come, but of the blessed days +that were past—of a father and a mother and a brother in a +happy home. But somehow the school-master was there too.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI.</h2> +<h3>A NIGHT AT PETE JONES'S.</h3> +<p>When Ralph got to Pete Jones's he found that sinister-looking +individual in the act of kicking one of his many dogs out of the +house.</p> +<p>"Come in, stranger, come in. You'll find this 'ere house full of +brats, but I guess you kin kick your way around among 'em. Take a +cheer. Here, git out! go to thunder with you!" And with these mild +imperatives he boxed one of his boys over in one direction and one +of his girls over in the other. "I believe in trainin' up children +to mind when they're spoke to," he said to Ralph apologetically. +But it seemed to the teacher that he wanted them to mind just a +little before they were spoken to.</p> +<p>"P'raps you'd like a bed. Well, jest climb up the ladder on the +outside of the house. Takes up a thunderin' sight of room to have a +stairs inside, and we ha'n't got no room to spare. You'll find a +bed in the furdest corner. My Pete's already got half of it, and +you can take t'other half. Ef Pete goes to takin' his half in the +middle, and tryin' to make you take yourn on both sides, jest kick +him."</p> +<p>In this comfortless bed "in the furdest corner," Ralph found +sleep out of the question. Pete took three-fourths of the bed, and +Hannah took all of his thoughts. So he lay, and looked out through +the cracks in the "clapboards" (as they call rough shingles in the +old West) at the stars. For the clouds had now broken away. And he +lay thus recounting to himself, as a miser counts the pieces that +compose his hoard, every step of that road from the time he had +overtaken Hannah in the hollow to the fence. Then he imagined again +the pleasure of helping her over, and then he retraced the ground +to the box-elder tree at the spring, and repeated to himself the +conversation until he came to the part in which she said that only +time and God could help her. What did she mean? What was the hidden +part of her life? What was the connection between her and +Shocky?</p> +<p>Hours wore on, and still the mind of Ralph Hartsook went back +and traveled the same road, over the fence, past the box-elder, up +to the inexplicable part of the conversation, and stood bewildered +with the same puzzling questions about the bound girl's life.</p> +<p>At last he got up, drew on his clothes, and sat down on the top +of the ladder, looking down over the blue-grass pasture which lay +on the border between the land of Jones and the land of Means. The +earth was white with moonlight. He could not sleep. Why not walk? +It might enable him to sleep. And once determined on walking, he +did not hesitate a moment as to the direction in which he should +walk. The blue-grass pasture (was it not like unto the garden of +Eden?) lay right before him. That box-elder stood just in sight. To +spring over the fence and take the path down the hill and over the +brook was as quickly done as decided upon. To stand again under the +box-elder, to climb again over the farther fence, and to walk down +the road toward the school-house was so easy and so delightful that +it was done without thought. For Ralph was an eager man—when +he saw no wrong in anything that proposed itself, he was wont to +follow his impulse without deliberation. And this keeping company +with the stars, and the memory of a delightful walk, were so much +better than the commonplace Flat Creek life that he threw himself +into his night excursion with enthusiasm.</p> +<p>At last he stood in the little hollow where he had joined +Hannah. It was the very spot at which Shocky, too, had met him a +few mornings before. He leaned against the fence and tried again to +solve the puzzle of Hannah's troubles. For that she had troubles he +did not doubt. Neither did he doubt that he could help her if he +could discover what they were. But he had no clue. In the midst of +This meditations he heard the thud of horses' hoofs coming down the +road. Until that moment he had not felt his own loneliness. He +shrank back into the fence-corner. The horsemen were galloping. +There were three of them, and there was one figure that seemed +familiar to Ralph. But he could not tell who it was. Neither could +he remember having seen the horse, which was a sorrel with a white +left forefoot and a white nose. The men noticed him and reined up a +little. Why he should have been startled by the presence of these +men he could not tell, but an indefinable dread seized him. They +galloped on, and he stood still shivering with a nervous fear. The +cold seemed to have got into his bones. He remembered that the +region lying on Flat Creek and Clifty Creek had the reputation of +being infested with thieves, who practiced horse-stealing and +house-breaking. For ever since the day when Murrell's confederate +bands were paralyzed by the death of their leader, there have still +existed gangs of desperadoes in parts of Southern Indiana and +Illinois, and in Iowa, Missouri, Kentucky, and the Southwest. It is +out of these materials that border ruffianism has grown, and the +nine members of the Reno band who were hanged two or three years +ago by lynch law<a name="FNanchor_17_17" id= +"FNanchor_17_17"></a><a href="#Footnote_17_17" class= +"fnanchor">[17]</a>, were remains of the bad blood that came into +the West in the days of Daniel Boone. Shall I not say that these +bands of desperadoes still found among the "poor whitey, +dirt-eater" class are the outcroppings of the bad blood sent from +England in convict-ships? Ought an old country to sow the fertile +soil of a colony with such noxious seed?</p> +<p>Before Ralph was able to move, he heard the hoofs of another +horse striking upon the hard ground in an easy pace. The rider was +Dr. Small. He checked his horse in a cool way, and stood still a +few seconds while he scrutinized Ralph. Then he rode on, keeping +the same easy gait as before, Ralph had a superstitious horror of +Henry Small. And, shuddering with cold, he crept like a thief over +the fence, past the tree, through the pasture, back to Pete +Jones's, never once thinking of the eyes that looked out of the +window at Means's. Climbing the ladder, he got into bed, and shook +as with the ague. He tried to reason himself out of the foolish +terror that possessed him, but he could not.</p> +<p>Half an hour later he heard a latch raised. Were the robbers +breaking into the house below? He heard a soft tread upon the +floor. Should he rise and give the alarm? Something restrained him. +He reflected that a robber would be sure to stumble over some of +the "brats." So he lay still and finally slumbered, only awakening +when the place in which he slept was full of the smoke of frying +grease from the room below.</p> +<p>At breakfast Pete Jones scowled. He was evidently angry about +something. He treated Ralph with a rudeness not to be overlooked, +as if he intended to bring on a quarrel. Hartsook kept cool, and +wished he could drive from his mind all memory of the past night. +Why should men on horseback have any significance to him? He was +trying to regard things in this way, and from a general desire to +keep on good terms with his host he went to the stable to offer his +services in helping to feed the stock.</p> +<p>"Don't want no saft-handed help!" was all he got in return for +his well-meant offer. But just as he turned to leave the stable he +saw what made him tremble again. There was the same sorrel horse +with a white left forefoot and a white nose.</p> +<p>To shake off his nervousness, Ralph started to school before the +time. But, plague upon plagues! Mirandy Means, who had seen him +leave Pete Jones's, started just in time to join him where he came +into the big road. Ralph was not in a good humor after his wakeful +night, and to be thus dogged by Mirandy did not help the matter. So +he found himself speaking crabbedly to the daughter of the leading +trustee, in spite of himself.</p> +<p>"Hanner's got a bad cold this mornin' from bein' out last night, +and she can't come to spellin'-school to-night," began Mirandy, in +her most simpering voice.</p> +<p>Ralph had forgotten that there was to be another +spelling-school. It seemed to him an age since the orthographical +conflict of the past night. This remark of Mirandy's fell upon his +ear like an echo from the distant past. He had lived a lifetime +since, and was not sure that he was the same man who was spelling +for dear life against Jim Phillips twelve hours before. But he was +sorry to hear that Hannah had a cold. It seemed to him, in his +depressed state, that he was to blame for it. In fact, it seemed to +him that he was to blame for a good many things. He seemed to have +been committing sins in spite of himself. Broken nerves and +sleepless nights often result in a morbid conscience. And what +business had he to wander over this very road at two o'clock in the +morning, and to see three galloping horsemen, one of them on a +horse with a white left forefoot and a white nose? What business +had he watching Dr. Small as he went home from the bedside of a +dying patient near daylight in the morning? And because he felt +guilty he felt cross with Mirandy, and to her remark about Hannah +he only replied that "Hannah was a smart girl."</p> +<p>"Yes," said Mirandy, "Bud thinks so."</p> +<p>"Does he?" said Ralph.</p> +<p>"I should say so. What's him and her been a-courtin' fer for a +year ef he didn't think she was smart? Marm don't like it; but ef +Bud and her does, and they seem to, I don't see as it's marm's +lookout."</p> +<p>When one is wretched, there is a pleasure in being entirely +wretched. Ralph felt that he must have committed some unknown +crime, and that some Nemesis was following him. Was Hannah +deceitful? At least, if she were not, he felt sure that he could +supplant Bud. But what right had he to supplant Bud?</p> +<p>"Did you hear the news?" cried Shocky, running out to meet him. +"The Dutchman's house was robbed last night."</p> +<p>Ralph thought of the three men on horseback, and to save his +life he could not help associating Dr. Small with them. And then he +remembered the sorrel horse with the left forefoot and muzzle +white, and he recalled the sound he had heard as of the lifting of +a latch. And it really seemed to him that in knowing what he did he +was in some sense guilty of the robbery.</p> +<div class="footnotes"> +<p class="center">FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"> +<p><a name="Footnote_17_17" id="Footnote_17_17"></a><a href= +"#FNanchor_17_17"><span class="label">[17]</span></a> Written in +1871.</p> +</div> +</div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII.</h2> +<h3>OMINOUS REMARKS OF MR. JONES.</h3> +<p>The school-master's mind was like ancient Gaul—divided +into three parts. With one part he mechanically performed his +school duties. With another he asked himself, What shall I do about +the robbery? And with the third he debated about Bud and Hannah. +For Bud was not present, and it was clear that he was angry, and +there was a storm brewing. In fact, it seemed to Ralph that there +was a storm brewing all round the sky. For Pete Jones was evidently +angry at the thought of having been watched, and it was fair to +suppose that Dr. Small was not in any better humor than usual. And +so, between Bud's jealousy and revenge and the suspicion and +resentment of the men engaged in the robbery at "the Dutchman's" +(as the only German in the whole region was called), Ralph's +excited nerves had cause for tremor. At one moment he would resolve +to have Hannah at all costs. In the next his conscience would +question the rightfulness of the conclusion. Then he would make up +his mind to tell all he knew about the robbery. But if he told his +suspicions about Small, nobody would believe him. And if he told +about Pete Jones, he really could tell only enough to bring +vengeance upon himself. And how could he explain his own walk +through the pasture and down the road? What business had he being +out of bed at two o'clock in the morning? The circumstantial +evidence was quite as strong against him as against the man on the +horse with the white left forefoot and the white nose. Suspicion +might fasten on himself. And then what would be the effect on his +prospects? On the people at Lewisburg? On Hannah? It is astonishing +how much instruction and comfort there is in a bulldog. This +slender school-master, who had been all his life repressing the +animal and developing the finer nature, now found a need of just +what the bulldog had. And so, with the thought of how his friend +the dog would fight in a desperate strait, he determined to take +hold of his difficulties as Bull took hold of the raccoon. Moral +questions he postponed for careful decision. But for the present he +set his teeth together in a desperate, bulldog fashion, and he set +his feet down slowly, positively, bulldoggedly. After a wretched +supper at Pete Jones's he found himself at the spelling-school, +which, owing to the absence of Hannah, and the excitement about the +burglary, was a dull affair. Half the evening was spent in talking +in little knots. Pete Jones had taken the afflicted "Dutchman" +under his own particular supervision.</p> +<p>"I s'pose," said Pete, "that them air fellers what robbed your +house must a come down from Jinkins Run. They're the blamedest set +up there I ever see."</p> +<p>"Ya-as," said Schroeder, "put how did Yinkins vellers know dat I +sell te medder to te Shquire, hey? How tid Yinkins know anyting +'bout the Shquire's bayin' me dree huntert in te hard +gash—hey?"</p> +<p>"Some scoundrels down in these 'ere parts is a-layin' in with +Jinkins Run, I'll bet a hoss," said Pete. Ralph wondered whether +he'd bet the one with the white left forefoot and the white nose. +"Now," said Pete, "ef I could find the feller that's a-helpin' them +scoundrels rob us folks, I'd help stretch him to the neardest +tree."</p> +<p>"So vood I," said Schroeder. "I'd shtretch him dill he baid me +my dree huntert tollars pack, so I vood."</p> +<p>And Betsey Short, who had found the whole affair very funny, was +transported with a fit of tittering at poor Schroeder's English. +Ralph, fearing that his silence would excite suspicion, tried to +talk. But he could not tell what he knew, and all that he said +sounded so hollow and hypocritical that it made him feel guilty. +And so he shut his mouth, and meditated profitably on the subject +of bull dogs. And when later he overheard the garrulous Jones +declare that he'd bet a hoss he could p'int out somebody as know'd +a blamed sight more'n they keerd to tell, he made up his mind that +if it came to p'inting out he should try to be even with Jones.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII.</h2> +<h3>THE STRUGGLE IN THE DARK</h3> +<p>It was a long, lonesome, fearful night that the school-master +passed, lying with nerves on edge and eyes wide open in that +comfortless bed in the "furdest corner" of the loft of Pete Jones's +house, shivering with cold, while the light snow that was falling +sifted in upon the ragged patch-work quilt that covered him. Nerves +broken by sleeplessness imagine many things, and for the first hour +Ralph felt sure that Pete would cut his throat before morning.</p> +<p>And you, friend Callow, who have blunted your palate by +swallowing the Cayenne pepper of the penny-dreadfuls, you wish me +to make this night exciting by a hand-to-hand contest between Ralph +and a robber. You would like it better if there were a trap-door. +There's nothing so convenient as a trap-door, unless it be a +subterranean passage. And you'd like something of that sort just +here. It's so pleasant to have one's hair stand on end, you know, +when one is safe from danger to one's self. But if you want each +individual hair to bristle with such a "Struggle in the Dark," you +can buy trap-doors and subterranean passages dirt cheap at the next +news-stand. But it was, indeed, a real and terrible "Struggle in +the Dark" that Ralph fought out at Pete Jones's.</p> +<p>When he had vanquished his fears of personal violence by +reminding himself that it would be folly for Jones to commit murder +in his own house, the question of Bud and Hannah took the uppermost +place in his thoughts. And as the image of Hannah spelling against +the master came up to him, as the memory of the walk, the talk, the +box-elder tree, and all the rest took possession of him, it seemed +to Ralph that his very life depended upon his securing her love. He +would shut his teeth like the jaws of a bulldog, and all Bud's +muscles should not prevail over his resolution and his +stratagems.</p> +<p>It was easy to persuade himself that this was right. Hannah +ought not to throw herself away on Bud Means. Men of some culture +always play their conceit off against their consciences. To a man +of literary habits it usually seems to be a great boon that he +confers on a woman when he gives her his love. Reasoning thus, +Ralph had fixed his resolution, and if the night had been shorter, +or sleep possible, the color of his life might have been +changed.</p> +<p>But some time along in the tedious hours came the memory of his +childhood, the words of his mother, the old Bible stories, the +aspiration after nobility of spirit, the solemn resolutions to be +true to his conscience. These angels of the memory came flocking +back before the animal, the bull-doggedness, had "set," as workers +in plaster say. He remembered the story of David and Nathan, and it +seemed to him that he, with all his abilities and ambitions and +prospects, was about to rob Bud of the one ewe-lamb, the only thing +he had to rejoice in in his life. In getting Hannah, he would make +himself unworthy of Hannah. And then there came to him a vision of +the supreme value of a true character; how it was better than +success, better than to be loved, better than heaven. And how near +he had been to missing it! And how certain he was, when these +thoughts should fade, to miss it! He was as one fighting for a +great prize who feels his strength failing and is sure of +defeat.</p> +<p>This was the real, awful "Struggle in the Dark." A human soul +fighting with heaven in sight, but certain of slipping inevitably +into hell! It was the same old battle. The Image of God fought with +the Image of the Devil. It was the same fight that Paul described +so dramatically when he represented the Spirit as contending with +the Flesh. Paul also called this dreadful something the Old Adam, +and I suppose Darwin would call it the remains of the Wild Beast. +But call it what you will, it is the battle that every well-endowed +soul must fight at some point. And to Ralph it seemed that the +final victory of the Evil, the Old Adam, the Flesh, the Wild Beast, +the Devil, was certain. For, was not the pure, unconscious face of +Hannah on the Devil's side? And so the battle had just as well be +given up at once, for it must be lost in the end.</p> +<p>But to Ralph, lying there in the still darkness, with his +conscience as wide awake as if it were the Day of Doom, there +seemed something so terrible in this overflow of the better nature +which he knew to be inevitable as soon as the voice of conscience +became blunted, that he looked about for help. He did not at first +think of God; but there came into his thoughts the memory of a +travel-worn Galilean peasant, hungry, sleepy, weary, tempted, +tried, like other men, but having a strange, divine Victory in him +by which everything evil was vanquished at his coming. He +remembered how He had reached out a Hand to every helpless one, how +He was the Helper of every weak one. And out of the depths of his +soul he cried to the Helper, and found comfort. Not victory, but, +what is better, strength. And so, without a thought of the niceties +of theological distinctions, without dreaming that it was the +beginning of a religious experience, he found what he needed, help. +And the Helper gave His beloved sleep.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX.</h2> +<h3>HAS GOD FORGOTTEN SHOCKY?</h3> +<p>"Pap wants to know ef you would spend to-morry and Sunday at our +house?" said one of Squire Hawkins's girls, on the very next +evening, which was Friday. The old Squire was thoughtful enough to +remember that Ralph would not find it very pleasant "boarding out" +all the time he was entitled to spend at Pete Jones's. For in view +of the fact that Mr. Pete Jones sent seven children to the school, +the "master" in Flat Creek district was bound to spend two weeks in +that comfortable place, sleeping in a preoccupied bed, in the +"furdest corner," with insufficient cover, under an insufficient +roof, and eating floating islands of salt pork fished out of oceans +of hot lard. Ralph was not slow to accept the relief offered by the +hospitable justice of the peace, whose principal business seemed to +be the adjustment of the pieces of which he was composed. And as +Shocky traveled the same road, Ralph took advantage of the +opportunity to talk with him. The master could not dismiss Hannah +wholly from his mind. He would at least read the mystery of her +life, if Shocky could be prevailed on to furnish the clue.</p> +<p>"Poor old tree!" said Shocky, pointing to a crooked and gnarled +elm standing by itself in the middle of a field. For when the elm, +naturally the most graceful of trees, once gets a "bad set," it can +grow to be the most deformed. This solitary tree had not a single +straight limb.</p> +<p>"Why do you say 'poor old tree'?" asked Ralph.</p> +<p>"'Cause it's lonesome. All its old friends is dead and chopped +down, and there's their stumps a-standin' jes like grave-stones. It +<i>must</i> be lonesome. Some folks says it don't feel, but I think +it does. Everything seems to think and feel. See it nodding its +head to them other trees in the woods? and a-wantin' to shake +hands! But it can't move. I think that tree must a growed in the +night."</p> +<p>"Why, Shocky?"</p> +<p>"'Cause it's so crooked," and Shocky laughed at his own conceit; +"must a growed when they was no light so as it could see how to +grow."</p> +<p>And then they walked on in silence a minute. Presently Shocky +began looking up into Ralph's eyes to get a smile. "I guess that +tree feels just like me. Don't you?"</p> +<p>"Why, how do you feel?"</p> +<p>"Kind o' bad and lonesome, and like as if I wanted to die, you +know. Felt that way ever sence they put my father into the +graveyard, and sent my mother to the poor-house and Hanner to ole +Miss Means's. What kind of a place is a poor-house? Is it a poorer +place than Means's? I wish I was dead and one of them clouds was +a-carryin' me and Hanner and mother up to where father's gone, you +know! I wonder if God forgets all about poor folks when their +father dies and their mother gits into the poor-house? Do you think +He does? Seems so to me. Maybe God lost track of my father when he +come away from England and crossed over the sea. Don't nobody on +Flat Creek keer fer God, and I guess God don't keer fer Flat Creek. +But I would, though, ef he'd git my mother out of the poor-house +and git Hanner away from Means's, and let me kiss my mother every +night, you know, and sleep on my Hanner's arm, jes like I used to +afore father died, you see."</p> +<p>Ralph wanted to speak, but he couldn't. And so Shocky, with his +eyes looking straight ahead, and as if forgetting Ralph's presence, +told over the thoughts that he had often talked over to the +fence-rails and the trees. "It was real good in Mr. Pearson to take +me, wasn't it? Else I'd a been bound out tell I was twenty-one, +maybe, to some mean man like Ole Means. And I a'n't but seven. And +it would take me fourteen years to git twenty-one, and I never +could live with my mother again after Hanner gets done her time. +'Cause, you see, Hanner'll be through in three more year, and I'll +be ten and able to work, and we'll git a little place about as big +as Granny Sanders's, and—"</p> +<p>Ralph did not hear another word of what Shocky said that +afternoon. For there, right before them, was Granny Sanders's +log-cabin, with its row of lofty sunflower stalks, now dead and +dry, in front, with its rain-water barrel by the side of the low +door, and its ash-barrel by the fence. In this cabin lived alone +the old and shriveled hag whose hideousness gave her a reputation +for almost supernatural knowledge. She was at once doctress and +newspaper. She collected and disseminated medicinal herbs and +personal gossip. She was in every regard indispensable to the +intellectual life of the neighborhood. In the matter of her medical +skill we cannot express an opinion, for her "yarbs" are not to be +found in the pharmacopoeia of science.</p> +<p>What took Ralph's breath was to find Dr. Small's fine, faultless +horse standing at the door. What did Henry Small want to visit this +old quack for?</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X.</h2> +<h3>THE DEVIL OF SILENCE.</h3> +<p>Ralph had reason to fear Small, who was a native of the same +village of Lewisburg, and some five years the elder. Some facts in +the doctor's life had come into Ralph's possession in such a way as +to confirm life-long suspicion without giving him power to expose +Small, who was firmly intrenched in the good graces of the people +of the county-seat village of Lewisburg, where he had grown up, and +of the little cross-roads village of Clifty, where his "shingle" +now hung.</p> +<p>Small was no ordinary villain. He was a genius. Your ordinary +hypocrite talks cant. Small talked nothing. He was the coolest, the +steadiest, the most silent, the most promising boy ever born in +Lewisburg. He made no pretensions. He set up no claims. He uttered +no professions. He went right on and lived a life above reproach. +Your vulgar hypocrite makes long prayers in prayer-meeting. Small +did nothing of the sort. He sat still in prayer-meeting, and +listened to the elders as a modest young man should. Your +commonplace hypocrite boasts. Small never alluded to himself, and +thus a consummate egotist got credit for modesty. It is but an +indifferent trick for a hypocrite to make temperance speeches. Dr. +Small did not even belong to a temperance society. But he could +never be persuaded to drink even so much as a cup of tea. There was +something sublime in the quiet voice with which he would say, "Cold +water, if you please," to a lady tempting him with smoking coffee +on a cold morning. There was no exultation, no sense of merit in +the act. Everything was done in a modest and matter-of-course way +beautiful to behold. And his face was a neutral tint. Neither face +nor voice expressed anything. Only a keen reader of character might +have asked whether all there was in that eye could live contented +with this cool, austere, self-contained life; whether there would +not be somewhere a volcanic eruption. But if there was any sea of +molten lava beneath, the world did not discover it. Wild boys were +sick of having Small held up to them as the most immaculate of +men<a name="FNanchor_18_18" id="FNanchor_18_18"></a><a href= +"#Footnote_18_18" class="fnanchor">[18]</a>.</p> +<p>Ralph had failed to get two schools for which he had applied, +and had attributed both failures to certain shrugs of Dr. Small. +And now, when he found Small at the house of Granny Sanders, the +center of intelligence as well as of ignorance for the +neighborhood, he trembled. Not that Small would say anything. He +never said anything. He damned people by a silence worse than +words.</p> +<p>Granny Sanders was not a little flattered by the visit.</p> +<p>"Why, doctor, howdy, howdy! Come in, take a cheer. I am glad to +see you. I 'lowed you'd come. Old Dr. Flounder used to say he larnt +lots o' things of me. But most of the doctors sence hez been kinder +stuck up, you know. But I know'd you fer a man of +intelligence."</p> +<p>Meantime, Small, by his grave silence and attention, had almost +smothered the old hag with flattery. "Many's the case I've cured +with yarbs and things. Nigh upon twenty year ago they was a man +lived over on Wild Cat Run as had a breakin'-out on his side. 'Twas +the left side, jes below the waist. Doctor couldn't do nothin'. +'Twas Doctor Peacham. He never would have nothin' to do with 'ole +woman's cures.' Well, the man was goin' to die. Everybody seed +that. And they come a-drivin' away over here all the way from the +Wild Cat. Think of that air! I never was so flustered. But as soon +as I laid eyes on that air man, I says, says I, that air man, says +I, has got the shingles, says I. I know'd the minute I seed it. And +if they'd gone clean around, nothing could a saved him. I says, +says I, git me a black cat. So I jist killed a black cat, and let +the blood run all over the swellin'. I tell you, doctor, they's +nothin' like it. That man was well in a month."</p> +<div class="figcenter"><br /> +<a href="images/illus-129.jpg"><img src="images/illus-129.jpg" +width="45%" alt="" title="" /></a><br /> +<b>MRS. MEANS</b> +<br /></div> +<p>"Did you use the blood warm?" asked Small, with a solemnity most +edifying.</p> +<p>These were almost the only words he had uttered since he entered +the cabin.</p> +<p>"Laws, yes; I jest let it run right out of the cat's tail onto +the breakin'-out. And fer airesipelus, I don't know nothin' so good +as the blood of a black hen."</p> +<p>"How old?" asked the doctor.</p> +<p>"There you showed yer science, doctor! They's no power in a +pullet. The older the black hen the better. And you know the cure +fer rheumatiz?" And here the old woman got down a bottle of grease. +"That's ile from a black dog. Ef it's rendered right, it'll knock +the hind sights off of any rheumatiz you ever see. But it must be +rendered in the dark of the moon. Else a black dog's ile a'n't +worth no more nor a white one's."</p> +<p>And all this time Small was smelling of the uncorked bottle, +taking a little on his finger and feeling of it, and thus feeling +his way to the heart—drier than her herbs—of the old +witch. And then he went round the cabin gravely, lifting each +separate bunch of dried yarbs from its nail, smelling of it, and +then, by making an interrogation-point of his silent face, he +managed to get a lecture from her on each article in her <i>materia +medica</i>> with the most marvelous stories illustrative of +their virtues. When the Granny had got her fill of his silent +flattery, he was ready to carry forward his main purpose.</p> +<p>There was something weird about this silent man's ability to +turn the conversation as he chose to have it go. Sitting by the +Granny's tea-table, nibbling corn-bread while he drank his glass of +water, having declined even her sassafras, he ceased to stimulate +her medical talk and opened the vein of gossip. Once started, +Granny Sanders was sure to allude to the robbery. And once on the +robbery the doctor's course was clear.</p> +<p>"I 'low somebody not fur away is in this 'ere business!"</p> +<p>Not by a word, nor even by a nod, but by some motion of the +eyelids, perhaps, Small indicated that he agreed with her.</p> +<p>"Who d'ye s'pose 'tis?"</p> +<p>But Dr. Small was not in the habit of supposing. He moved his +head in a quiet way, just the least perceptible bit, but so that +the old creature understood that he could give light if he wanted +to.</p> +<p>"I dunno anybody that's been 'bout here long as could be +suspected."</p> +<p>Another motion of the eyelids indicated Small's agreement with +this remark.</p> +<p>"They a'n't nobody come in here lately 'ceppin' the master."</p> +<p>Small looked vacantly at the wall.</p> +<p>"But I low he's allers bore a tip-top character."</p> +<p>The doctor was too busy looking at his corn-bread to answer this +remark even by a look.</p> +<p>"But I think these oversmart young men'll bear looking arter, +<i>I</i> do."</p> +<p>Dr. Small raised his eyes and let them <i>shine</i> an assent. +That was all.</p> +<p>"Shouldn't wonder ef our master was overly fond of gals."</p> +<p>Doctor looks down at his plate.</p> +<p>"Had plenty of sweethearts afore he walked home with Hanner +Thomson t'other night, I'll bet."</p> +<p>Did Dr. Small shrug his shoulder? Granny thought she detected a +faint motion of the sort, but she could not be sure.</p> +<p>"And I think as how that a feller what trifles with gals' hearts +and then runs off ten miles, maybe a'n't no better'n he had orter +be. That's what I says, says I."</p> +<p>To this general remark Dr. Small assented in his +invisible—shall I say <i>intangible</i>?—way.</p> +<p>"I allers think, maybe, that some folks has found it best to +leave home and go away. You can't never tell. But when people is +a-bein' robbed it's well to lookout. Hey?"</p> +<p>"I think so," said Small quietly, and, having taken his hat and +bowed a solemn and respectful adieu, he departed.</p> +<p>He had not spoken twenty words, but he had satisfied the +news-monger of Flat Creek that Ralph was a bad character at home +and worthy of suspicion of burglary.</p> +<div class="footnotes"> +<p class="center">FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"> +<p><a name="Footnote_18_18" id="Footnote_18_18"></a><a href= +"#FNanchor_18_18"><span class="label">[18]</span></a> The original +from which this character was drawn is here described accurately. +The author now knows that such people are not to be put into books. +They are not realistic enough.</p> +</div> +</div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2> +<h3>MISS MARTHA HAWKINS.</h3> +<p>"It's very good for the health to dig in the elements. I was +quite emaciated last year at the East, and the doctor told me to +dig in the elements. I got me a florial hoe and dug, and it's been +most excellent for me<a name="FNanchor_19_19" id= +"FNanchor_19_19"></a><a href="#Footnote_19_19" class= +"fnanchor">[19]</a>." Time, the Saturday following the Friday on +which Ralph kept Shocky company as far as the "forks" near Granny +Sanders's house. Scene, the Squire's garden. Ralph helping that +worthy magistrate perform sundry little jobs such as a warm winter +day suggests to the farmer. Miss Martha Hawkins, the Squire's +niece, and his housekeeper in his present bereaved condition, +leaning over the palings—pickets she called them—of the +garden fence, talking to the master. Miss Hawkins was recently from +Massachusetts. How many people there are in the most cultivated +communities whose education is partial!</p> +<p>"It's very common for school-master to dig in the elements at +the East," proceeded Miss Martha. Like many other people born in +the celestial empires (of which there are three—China, +Virginia, Massachusetts), Miss Martha was not averse to reminding +outside barbarians of her good fortune in this regard. It did her +good to speak of the East.</p> +<p>Now Ralph was amused with Miss Martha. She really had a good +deal of intelligence despite her affectation, and conversation with +her was both interesting and diverting. It helped him to forget +Hannah, and Bud, and the robbery, and all the rest, and she was so +delighted to find somebody to make an impression on that she had +come out to talk while Ralph was at work. But just at this moment +the school-master was not so much interested in her interesting +remarks, nor so much amused by her amusing remarks, as he should +have been. He saw a man coming down the road riding one horse and +leading another, and he recognized the horses at a distance. It +must be Bud who was riding Means's bay mare and leading Bud's roan +colt. Bud had been to mill, and as the man who owned the horse-mill +kept but one old blind horse himself, it was necessary that Bud +should take two. It required three horses to run the mill; the old +blind one could have ground the grist, but the two others had to +overcome the friction of the clumsy machine. But it was not about +the horse-mill that Ralph was thinking nor about the two horses. +Since that Wednesday evening on which he escorted Hannah home from +the spelling-school he had not seen Bud Means. If he had any +lingering doubts of the truth of what Mirandy had said, they had +been dissipated by the absence of Bud from school.</p> +<p>"When I was to Bosting—" Miss Martha was <i>to</i> Boston +only once in her life, but as her visit to that sacred city was the +most important occurrence of her life, she did not hesitate to air +her reminiscences of it frequently. "When I was to Bosting," she +was just saying, when, following the indication of Ralph's eyes, +she saw Bud coming up the hill near Squire Hawkins's house. Bud +looked red and sulky, and to Ralph's and Miss Martha Hawkins's +polite recognitions he returned only a surly nod. They both saw +that he was angry. Ralph was able to guess the meaning of his +wrath.</p> +<p>Toward evening Ralph strolled through the Squire's cornfield +toward the woods. The memory of the walk with Hannah was heavy upon +the heart of the young master, and there was comfort in the very +miserableness of the cornstalks with their disheveled blades +hanging like tattered banners and rattling discordantly in the +rising wind. Wandering without purpose, Ralph followed the rows of +stalks first one way and then the other in a zigzag line, turning a +right angle every minute or two. At last he came out in a woods +mostly of beech, and he pleased his melancholy fancy by kicking the +dry and silky leaves before him in billows, while the soughing of +the wind through the long, vibrant boughs and slender twigs of the +beech forest seemed to put the world into the wailing minor key of +his own despair.</p> +<p>What a fascination there is in a path come upon suddenly without +a knowledge of its termination! Here was one running in easy, +irregular curves through the wood, now turning gently to the right +in order to avoid a stump, now swaying suddenly to the left to gain +an easier descent at a steep place, and now turning wantonly to the +one side or the other, as if from very caprice in the man who by +idle steps unconsciously marked the line of the foot-path at first. +Ralph could not resist the impulse—who could?—to follow +the path and find out its destination, and following it he came +presently into a lonesome hollow, where a brook gurgled among the +heaps of bare limestone rocks that filled its bed. Following the +path still, he came upon a queer little cabin built of round logs, +in the midst of a small garden-patch inclosed by a brush fence. The +stick chimney, daubed with clay and topped with a barrel open at +both ends, made this a typical cabin.</p> +<div class="figcenter"><br /> +<a href="images/illus-139.jpg"><img src="images/illus-139.jpg" +width="45%" alt="" title="" /></a><br /> +<b>CAPTAIN PEARSON</b> +<br /></div> +<p>It flashed upon Ralph that this place must be Rocky Hollow, and +that this was the house of old John Pearson, the one-legged +basket-maker, and his rheumatic wife—the house that +hospitably sheltered Shocky. Following his impulse, he knocked and +was admitted, and was not a little surprised to find Miss Martha +Hawkins there before him.</p> +<p>"You here, Miss Hawkins?" he said when he had returned Shocky's +greeting and shaken hands with the old couple.</p> +<p>"Bless you, yes," said the old lady. "That blessed +gyirl"—the old lady called her a girl by a sort of figure of +speech perhaps—"that blessed gyirl's the kindest creetur you +ever saw—comes here every day, most, to cheer a body up with +somethin' or nuther."</p> +<p>Miss Martha blushed, and said "she came because Rocky Hollow +looked so much like a place she used to know at the East. Mr. and +Mrs. Pearson were the kindest people. They reminded her of people +she knew at the East. When she was to Bosting—"</p> +<p>Here the old basket-maker lifted his head from his work, and +said: "Pshaw! that talk about kyindness" (he was a Kentuckian and +said <i>kyindness</i>) "is all humbug. I wonder so smart a woman as +you don't know better. You come nearder to bein kyind than anybody +I know; but, laws a me! we're all selfish akordin' to my tell."</p> +<p>"You wasn't selfish when you set up with my father most every +night for two weeks," said Shocky as he handed the old man a +splint.</p> +<p>"Yes, I was, too!" This in a tone that made Ralph tremble. "Your +father was a miserable Britisher. I'd fit red-coats, in the war of +eighteen-twelve, and lost my leg by one of 'em stickin' his +dog-on'd bagonet right through it, that night at Lundy's Lane; but +my messmate killed him though which is a satisfaction to think on. +And I didn't like your father 'cause he was a Britisher. But ef +he'd a died right here in this free country, 'though nobody to give +him a drink of water, blamed ef I wouldn't a been ashamed to set on +the platform at a Fourth of July barbecue, and to hold up my wooden +leg fer to make the boys cheer! That was the selfishest thing I +ever done. We're all selfish akordin' to my tell."</p> +<p>"You wasn't selfish when you took me that night, you know," and +Shocky's face beamed with gratitude.</p> +<p>"Yes, I war, too, you little sass-box! What did I take you fer? +Hey? Bekase I didn't like Pete Jones nor Bill Jones. They're +thieves, dog-on 'em!"</p> +<p>Ralph shivered a little. The horse with the white forefoot and +white nose galloped before his eyes again.</p> +<p>"They're a set of thieves. That's what they air."</p> +<p>"Please, Mr. Pearson, be careful. You'll get into trouble, you +know, by talking that way," said Miss Hawkins. "You're just like a +man that I knew at the East."</p> +<p>"Why, do you think an old soldier like me, hobbling on a wooden +leg, is afraid of them thieves? Didn't I face the Britishers? +Didn't I come home late last Wednesday night? I rather guess I must +a took a little too much at Welch's grocery, and laid down in the +middle of the street to rest. The boys thought 'twas funny to +crate<a name="FNanchor_20_20" id="FNanchor_20_20"></a><a href= +"#Footnote_20_20" class="fnanchor">[20]</a> me. I woke up kind o' +cold, 'bout one in the mornin.' 'Bout two o'clock I come up Means's +hill, and didn't I see Pete Jones, and them others that robbed the +Dutchman, and somebody, I dunno who, a-crossin' the blue-grass +paster <i>towards</i> Jones's?" (Ralph shivered.) "Don't shake your +finger at me, old woman. Tongue is all I've got to fight with now; +but I'll fight them thieves tell the sea goes dry, I will. Shocky, +gim me a splint."</p> +<p>"But you wasn't selfish when you tuck me. Shocky stuck to his +point most positively.</p> +<p>"Yes, I was, you little tow-headed fool! I didn't take you kase +I was good, not a bit of it. I hated Bill Jones what keeps the +poor-house, and I knowed him and Pete would get you bound to some +of their click, and I didn't want no more thieves raised; so when +your mother hobbled, with you a-leadin' her, poor blind thing! all +the way over here on that winter night, and said, 'Mr. Pearson, +you're all the friend I've got, and I want you to save my boy,' +why, you see I was selfish as ever I could be in takin' of you. +Your mother's cryin' sot me a-cryin' too. We're all selfish in +everything, akordin' to my tell. Blamed ef we ha'n't, Miss Hawkins, +only sometimes I'd think you was real benev'lent ef I didn't know +we war all selfish."</p> +<div class="footnotes"> +<p class="center">FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"> +<p><a name="Footnote_19_19" id="Footnote_19_19"></a><a href= +"#FNanchor_19_19"><span class="label">[19]</span></a> Absurd as +this speech seems, it is a literal transcript of words spoken in +the author's presence by a woman who, like Miss Hawkins, was born +in Massachusetts.</p> +</div> +<div class="footnote"> +<p><a name="Footnote_20_20" id="Footnote_20_20"></a><a href= +"#FNanchor_20_20"><span class="label">[20]</span></a> When the +first edition of this book appeared, the critic who analyzed the +dialect in <i>The Nation</i> confessed that he did not know what to +"crate" meant. It was a custom in the days of early Indiana +barbarism for the youngsters of a village, on spying a sleeping +drunkard, to hunt up a "queensware crate"—one of the cages of +round withes in which crockery was shipped. This was turned upside +down over the inebriate, and loaded with logs or any other heavy +articles that would make escape difficult when the poor wretch +should come to himself. It was a sort of rude punishment for +inebriety, and it afforded a frog-killing delight to those who +executed justice.</p> +</div> +</div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII.</h2> +<h3>THE HARDSHELL PREACHER.</h3> +<p>"They's preachin' down to Bethel Meetin'-house to-day," said the +Squire at breakfast. Twenty years In the West could not cure Squire +Hawkins of saying "to" for "at." "I rather guess as how the old man +Bosaw will give pertickeler fits to our folks to-day." For Squire +Hawkins, having been expelled from the "Hardshell" church of which +Mr. Bosaw was pastor, for the grave offense of joining a temperance +society, had become a member of the "Reformers," the very +respectable people who now call themselves "Disciples," but whom +the profane will persist in calling "Campbellites." They had a +church in the village of Clifty, three miles away.</p> +<p>I know that explanations are always abominable to story readers, +as they are to story writers, but as so many of my readers have +never had the inestimable privilege of sitting under the gospel as +it is ministered in enlightened neighborhoods like Flat Creek, I +find myself under the necessity—need-cessity the Rev. Mr. +Bosaw would call it—of rising to explain. Some people think +the "Hardshells" a myth, and some sensitive Baptist people at the +East resent all allusion to them. But the "Hardshell Baptists," or, +as they are otherwise called, the "Whisky Baptists," and the +"Forty-gallon Baptists," exist in all the old Western and +South-western States. They call themselves "Anti-means Baptists" +from their Antinomian tenets. Their confession of faith is a +caricature of Calvinism, and is expressed by their preachers about +as follows: "Ef you're elected, you'll be saved; ef you a'n't, +you'll be damned. God'll take keer of his elect. It's a sin to run +Sunday-schools, or temp'rince s'cieties, or to send missionaries. +You let God's business alone. What is to be will be, and you can't +hender it." This writer has attended a Sunday-school, the +superintendent of which was solemnly arraigned and expelled from +the Hardshell Church for "meddling with God's business" by holding +a Sunday-school. Of course the Hardshells are prodigiously +illiterate, and often vicious. Some of their preachers are +notorious drunkards. They sing their sermons out sometimes for +three hours at a stretch<a name="FNanchor_21_21" id= +"FNanchor_21_21"></a><a href="#Footnote_21_21" class= +"fnanchor">[21]</a>.</p> +<p>Ralph found that he was to ride the "clay-bank mare," the only +one of the horses that would "carry double," and that consequently +he would have to take Miss Hawkins behind him. If it had been +Hannah instead, Ralph might not have objected to this "young +Lochinvar" mode of riding with a lady on "the croup," but Martha +Hawkins was another affair. He had only this consolation; his +keeping the company of Miss Hawkins might serve to disarm the +resentment of Bud. At all events, he had no choice. What designs +the Squire had in this arrangement he could not tell; but the +clay-bank mare carried him to meeting on that December morning, +with Martha Hawkins behind. And as Miss Hawkins was not used to +this mode of locomotion, she was in a state of delightful fright +every time the horse sank to the knees in the soft, yellow Flat +Creek clay.</p> +<p>"We don't go to church so at the East," she said. "The mud isn't +so deep at the East. When I was to Bosting—" but Ralph never +heard what happened when she was to Bosting, for just as she said +Bosting the mare put her foot into a deep hole molded by the foot +of the Squire's horse, and already full of muddy water.</p> +<p>As the mare's foot went twelve inches down into this track, the +muddy water spurted higher than Miss Hawkins's head, and mottled +her dress with golden spots of clay. She gave a little shriek, and +declared that she had never "seen it so at the East."</p> +<p>The journey seemed a little long to Ralph, who found that the +subjects upon which he and Miss Hawkins could converse were few; +but Miss Martha was determined to keep things going, and once, when +the conversation had died out entirely, she made a desperate effort +to renew it by remarking, as they met a man on horseback, "That +horse switches his tail just as they do at the East. When I was to +Bosting I saw horses switch their tails just that way."</p> +<p>What surprised Ralph was to see that Flat Creek went to meeting. +Everybody was there—the Meanses, the Joneses, the Bantas, and +all the rest. Everybody on Flat Creek seemed to be there, except +the old wooden-legged basket-maker. His family was represented by +Shocky, who had come, doubtless, to get a glimpse of Hannah, not to +hear Mr. Bosaw preach. In fact, few were thinking of the religious +service. They went to church as a common resort to hear the news, +and to find out what was the current sensation.</p> +<p>On this particular morning there seemed to be some unusual +excitement. Ralph perceived it as he rode up. An excited crowd, +even though it be at a church-door on Sunday morning, can not +conceal its agitation. Ralph deposited Miss Hawkins on the stile, +and then got down himself, and paid her the closest attention to +the door. This attention was for Bud's benefit. But Bud only stood +with his hands in his pockets, scowling worse than ever. Ralph did +not go in at the door. It was not the Flat Creek custom. The men +gossiped outside, while the women chatted within. Whatever may have +been the cause of the excitement, Ralph could not get at it. When +he entered a little knot of people they became embarrassed, the +group dissolved, and its component parts joined other companies. +What had the current of conversation to do with him? He overheard +Pete Jones saying that the blamed old wooden leg was in it anyhow. +He'd been seen goin' home at two in the mornin'. And he could name +somebody else ef he choosed. But it was best to clean out one at a +time. And just then there was a murmur: "Meetin's took up." And the +masculine element filled the empty half of the "hewed-log" +church.</p> +<p>When Ralph saw Hannah looking utterly dejected, his heart smote +him, and the great struggle set in again. Had it not been for the +thought of the other battle, and the comforting presence of the +Helper, I fear Bud's interests would have fared badly. But Ralph, +with the spirit of a martyr, resolved to wait until he knew what +the result of Bud's suit should be, and whether, indeed, the young +Goliath had prior claims, as he evidently thought he had. He turned +hopefully to the sermon, determined to pick up any crumbs of +comfort that might fall from Mr. Bosaw's meager table.</p> +<p>In reporting a single specimen passage of Mr. Bosaw's sermon, I +shall not take the liberty which Thucydides and other ancient +historians did, of making the sermon and putting it into the hero's +mouth, but shall give that which can be vouched for.</p> +<p>"You see, my respective hearers," he began—but alas! I can +never picture to you the rich red nose, the see sawing gestures, +the nasal resonance, the sniffle, the melancholy minor key, and all +that. "My respective hearers-ah, you see-ah as how-ah as my tex'-ah +says that the ox-ah knoweth his owner-ah, and-ah the ass-ah his +master's crib-ah. A-h-h! Now, my respective hearers-ah, they're a +mighty sight of resemblance-ah atwext men-ah and oxen-ah" [Ralph +could not help reflecting that there was a mighty sight of +resemblance between some men and asses. But the preacher did not +see this analogy. It lay too close to him], "bekase-ah, you see, +men-ah is mighty like oxen-ah. Fer they's a tremengious +defference-ah atwixt defferent oxen-ah, jest as thar is atwext +defferent men-ah; fer the ox knoweth-ah his owner-ah, and the +ass-ah, his master's crib-ah. Now, my respective hearers-ah" [the +preacher's voice here grew mellow, and the succeeding sentences +were in the most pathetic and lugubrious tones], "you all know-ah +that your humble speaker-ah has got-ah jest the best yoke of +steers-ah in this township-ah." [Here Betsey Short shook the floor +with a suppressed titter.] "They a'n't no sech steers as them air +two of mine-ah in this whole kedentry-ah. Them crack oxen over at +Clifty-ah ha'n't a patchin' to mine-ah. Fer the ox knoweth his +owner-ah and the ass-ah his master's crib-ah.</p> +<p>"Now, my respective hearers-ah, they's a right smart sight of +defference-ah atwext them air two oxen-ah, jest like they is atwext +defferent men-ah. Fer-ah" [here the speaker grew earnest, and sawed +the air, from this to the close, in a most frightful way], "fer-ah, +you see-ah, when I go out-ah in the mornin'-ah to yoke-ah up-ah +them air steers-ah, and I says-ah, 'Wo, Berry-ah! <i>Wo, +Berry-ah!</i> WO, BERRY-AH', why Berry-ah jest stands stock +still-ah and don't hardly breathe-ah while I put on the yoke-ah, +and put in the bow-ah, and put in the key-ah, fer, my brethering-ah +and sistering-ah, the ox knoweth his owner-ah, and the ass-ah his +master's crib-ah. Hal-le-lu-ger-ah!</p> +<p>"But-ah, my hearers-ah, but-ah when I stand at t'other eend of +the yoke-ah, and say, 'Come, Buck-ah! <i>Come, Buck-ah!</i> COME, +BUCK-AH! COME, BUCK-AH!' why what do you think-ah? Buck-ah, that +ornery ole Buck-ah, 'stid of comin' right along-ah and puttin' his +neck under-ah, acts jest like some men-ah what is fools-ah. Buck-ah +jest kinder sorter stands off-ah, and kinder sorter puts his head +down-ah this 'ere way-ah, and kinder looks mad-ah, and says, +Boo-<i>oo</i>-OO-OO-ah!"</p> +<p>Alas! Hartsook found no spiritual edification there, and he was +in no mood to be amused. And so, while the sermon drew on through +two dreary hours, he forgot the preacher in noticing a bright green +lizard which, having taken up its winter quarters behind the tin +candlestick that hung just back of the preacher's head, had been +deceived by the genial warmth coming from the great box-stove, and +now ran out two or three feet from his shelter, looking down upon +the red-nosed preacher in a most confidential and amusing manner. +Sometimes he would retreat behind the candlestick, which was not +twelve inches from the preacher's head, and then rush out again. At +each reappearance Betsey Short would stuff her handkerchief into +her mouth and shake in a most distressing way. Shocky wondered what +the lizard was winking at the preacher about. And Miss Martha +thought that it reminded her of a lizard that she see at the East, +the time she was to Bosting, in a jar of alcohol in the Natural +History Rooms. The Squire was not disappointed in his anticipation +that Mr. Bosaw would attack his denomination with some fury. In +fact, the old preacher outdid himself in his violent indignation at +"these people that follow Campbell-ah, that thinks-ah that +obejience-ah will save 'em-ah and that belongs-ah to temp'rince +societies-ah and Sunday-schools-ah, and them air things-ah, that's +not ortherized in the Bible-ah, but comes of the devil-ah, and +takes folks as belongs to 'em to hell-ah."</p> +<p>As they came out the door Ralph rallied enough to remark: "He +did attack your people, Squire."</p> +<p>"Oh, yes," said the Squire. "Didn't you see the Sarpent +inspirin' him?"</p> +<p>But the long, long hours were ended and Ralph got on the +clay-bank mare and rode up alongside the stile whence Miss Martha +mounted. And as he went away with a heavy heart, he overheard Pete +Jones call out to somebody:</p> +<p>"We'll tend to his case & Christmas." Christmas was two days +off.</p> +<p>And Miss Martha remarked with much trepidation that poor Pearson +would have to leave. She'd always been afraid that would be the end +of it. It reminded her of something she heard at the East, the time +she was down to Bosting.</p> +<div class="footnotes"> +<p class="center">FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"> +<p><a name="Footnote_21_21" id="Footnote_21_21"></a><a href= +"#FNanchor_21_21"><span class="label">[21]</span></a> Even the +Anti-means Baptists have suffered from the dire spirit of the age. +They are to-day a very respectable body of people calling +themselves "Primitive Baptists." Perhaps the description in the +text never applied to the whole denomination, but only to the +Hardshells of certain localities. Some of these intensely +conservative churches, I have reason to believe, were always +composed of reputable people. But what is said above is not in the +least exaggerated as a description of many of the churches in +Indiana and Illinois. Their opposition to the temperance +reformation was both theoretical and practical. A rather able +minister of the denomination whom I knew as a boy used to lie in +besotted drunkenness by the roadside. I am sorry to confess that he +once represented the county in the State legislature. The piece of +a sermon given in this chapter was heard near Cairo, Illinois, in +the days before the war. Most of the preachers were illiterate +farmers. I have heard one of them hold forth two hours at a +stretch. But even in that day there were men among the Hardshells +whose ability and character commanded respect. This was true, +especially in Kentucky, where able men like the two Dudleys held to +the Antinomian wing of their denomination. But the Hardshells are +perceptibly less hard than they were. You may march at the rear of +the column among Hunkers and Hardshells if you will, but you are +obliged to march. Those who will not go voluntarily, the +time-spirit, walking behind, prods onward with a goad.</p> +</div> +</div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII.</h2> +<h3>A STRUGGLE FOR THE MASTERY</h3> +<p>The school had closed on Monday evening as usual. The boys had +been talking in knots all day. Nothing but the bulldog in the +slender, resolute young master had kept down the rising storm. A +teacher who has lost moral support at home, can not long govern a +school. Ralph had effectually lost his popularity in the district, +and the worst of it was that he could not divine from just what +quarter the ill wind came, except that he felt sure of Small's +agency in it somewhere. Even Hannah had slighted him, when he +called at Means's on Monday morning to draw the pittance of pay +that was due him.</p> +<p>He had expected a petition for a holiday on Christmas day. Such +holidays are deducted from the teacher's time, and it is customary +for the boys to "turn out" the teacher who refuses to grant them, +by barring him out of the school-house on Christmas and New Year's +morning. Ralph had intended to grant a holiday if it should be +asked, but it was not asked. Hank Banta was the ringleader in the +disaffection, and he had managed to draw the surly Bud, who was +present this morning, into it. It is but fair to say that Bud was +in favor of making a request before resorting to extreme measures, +but he was overruled. He gave it as his solemn opinion that the +master was mighty peart, and they would be beat anyhow some way, +but he would lick the master fer two cents ef he warn't so slim +that he'd feel like he was fighting a baby.</p> +<p>And all that day things looked black. Ralph's countenance was +cold and hard as stone, and Shocky trembled where he sat. Betsey +Short tittered rather more than usual. A riot or a murder would +have seemed amusing to her.</p> +<p>School was dismissed, and Ralph, instead of returning to the +Squire's, set out for the village of Clifty, a few miles away. No +one knew what he went for, and some suggested that he had +"sloped."</p> +<p>But Bud said "he warn't that air kind. He was one of them air +sort as died in their tracks, was Mr. Hartsook. They'd find him on +the ground nex' morning, and he lowed the master war made of that +air sort of stuff as would burn the dog-on'd ole school-house to +ashes, or blow it into splinters, but what he'd beat. Howsumdever +he'd said he was a-goin' to help, and help he would; but all the +sinno in Golier wouldn't be no account again the cute they was in +the head of the master."</p> +<p>But Bud, discouraged as he was with the fear of Ralph's "cute," +went like a martyr to the stake and took his place with the rest in +the school-house at nine o'clock at night. It may have been Ralph's +intention to preoccupy the school-house, for at ten o'clock Hank +Banta was set shaking from head to foot at seeing a face that +looked like the master's at the window. He waked up Bud and told +him about it.</p> +<p>"Well, what are you a-tremblin' about, you coward?" growled Bud. +"He won't shoot you; but he'll beat you at this game, I'll bet a +hoss, and me, too, and make us both as 'shamed of ourselves as dogs +with tin-kittles to their tails. You don't know the master, though +he did duck you. But he'll larn you a good lesson this time, and me +too, like as not." And Bud soon snored again, but Hank shook with +fear every time he looked at the blackness outside the windows. He +was sure he heard foot-falls. He would have given anything to have +been at home.</p> +<p>When morning came, the pupils began to gather early. A few boys +who were likely to prove of service in the coming siege were +admitted through the window, and then everything was made fast, and +a "snack" was eaten.</p> +<p>"How do you 'low he'll get in?" said Hank, trying to hide his +fear.</p> +<p>"How do I 'low?" said Bud. "I don't 'low nothin' about it. You +might as well ax me where I 'low the nex' shootin' star is a-goin' +to drap. Mr. Hartsook's mighty onsartin. But he'll git in, though, +and tan your hide fer you, you see ef he don't. <i>Ef</i> he don't +blow up the school-house with gunpowder!" This last was thrown in +by way of alleviating the fears of the cowardly Hank, for whom Bud +had a great contempt.</p> +<p>The time for school had almost come. The boys inside were +demoralized by waiting. They began to hope that the master had +"sloped." They dreaded to see him coming.</p> +<p>"I don't believe he'll come," said Hank, with a cold shiver. +"It's past school-time."</p> +<p>"Yes, he will come, too," said Bud. "And he 'lows to come in +here mighty quick. I don't know how. But he'll be a-standin' at +that air desk when it's nine o'clock. I'll bet a thousand dollars +on that. <i>Ef</i> he don't take it into his head to blow us up!" +Hank was now white.</p> +<p>Some of the parents came along, accidentally of course, and +stopped to see the fun, sure that Bud would thrash the master if he +tried to break in. Small, on the way to see a patient perhaps, +reined up in front of the door. Still no Ralph. It was just five +minutes before nine. A rumor now gained currency that he had been +seen going to Clifty the evening before, and that he had not come +back, though in fact Ralph had come back, and had slept at Squire +Hawkins's.</p> +<p>"There's the master," cried Betsey Short, who stood out in the +road shivering and giggling alternately. For Ralph at that moment +emerged from the sugar-camp by the school-house, carrying a +board.</p> +<p>"Ho! ho!" laughed Hank, "he thinks he'll smoke us out. I guess +he'll find us ready." The boys had let the fire burn down, and +there was now nothing but hot hickory coals on the hearth.</p> +<p>"I tell you he'll come in. He didn't go to Clifty fer nothing" +said Bud, who sat still on one of the benches which leaned against +the door. "I don't know how, but they's lots of ways of killing a +cat besides chokin' her with butter. He'll come in—<i>ef</i> +he don't blow us all sky-high!"</p> +<p>Ralph's voice was now heard, demanding that the door be +opened.</p> +<p>"Let's open her," said Hank, turning livid with fear at the +firm, confident tone of the master.</p> +<p>Bud straightened himself up. "Hank, you're a coward. I've got a +mind to kick you. You got me into this blamed mess, and now you +want to craw-fish. You jest tech one of these 'ere fastenings, and +I'll lay you out flat of your back afore you can say Jack +Robinson."</p> +<p>The teacher was climbing to the roof with the board in hand.</p> +<p>"That air won't win," laughed Pete Jones outside. He saw that +there was no smoke. Even Bud began to hope that Ralph would fail +for once. The master was now on the ridge-pole of the school-house. +He took a paper from his pocket, and deliberately poured the +contents down the chimney.</p> +<p>Mr. Pete Jones shouted "Gunpowder!" and set off down the road to +be out of the way of the explosion. Dr. Small remembered, probably, +that his patient might die while he sat here, and started on.</p> +<p>But Ralph emptied the paper, and laid the board over the +chimney. What a row there was inside! The benches that were braced +against the door were thrown down, and Hank Banta rushed out, +rubbing his eyes, coughing frantically, and sure that he had been +blown up. All the rest followed, Bud bringing up the rear sulkily, +but coughing and sneezing for dear life. Such a smell of sulphur as +came from that school-house!</p> +<p>Betsey had to lean against the fence to giggle.</p> +<div class="figcenter"><br /> +<a href="images/illus-161.jpg"><img src="images/illus-161.jpg" +width="45%" alt="" title="" /></a><br /> +<b>FIRE AND BRIMSTONE</b> +<br /></div> +<p>As soon as all were out, Ralph threw the board off the chimney, +leaped to the ground, entered the school-house, and opened the +windows. The school soon followed him, and all was still.</p> +<p>"Would he thrash?" This was the important question in Hank +Banta's mind. And the rest looked for a battle with Bud.</p> +<p>"It is just nine o'clock," said Ralph, consulting his watch, +"and I'm glad to see you all here promptly. I should have given you +a holiday if you had asked me like gentlemen yesterday. On the +whole, I think I shall give you a holiday, anyhow. The school is +dismissed."</p> +<p>And Hank felt foolish.</p> +<p>And Bud secretly resolved to thrash Hank or the master, he +didn't care which.</p> +<p>And Mirandy looked the love she could not utter.</p> +<p>And Betsey giggled.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV.</h2> +<h3>A CRISIS WITH BUD.</h3> +<p>Ralph sat still at his desk. The school had gone. All at once he +became conscious that Shocky sat yet in his accustomed place upon +the hard, backless bench.</p> +<p>"Why, Shocky, haven't you gone yet?"</p> +<p>"No—sir—I was waitin' to see if you warn't a-goin', +too—I—"</p> +<p>"Well?"</p> +<p>"I thought it would make me feel as if God warn't quite so fur +away to talk to you. It did the other day."</p> +<p>The master rose and put his hand on Shocky's head. Was it the +brotherhood in affliction that made Shocky's words choke him so? +Or, was it the weird thoughts that he expressed? Or, was it the +recollection that Shocky was Hannah's brother? Hannah so far, far +away from him now! At any rate, Shocky, looking up for the smile on +which he fed, saw the relaxing of the master's face, that had been +as hard as stone, and felt just one hot tear on his hand.</p> +<p>"P'r'aps God's forgot you, too," said Shocky in a sort of half +soliloquy. "Better get away from Flat Creek. You see God forgets +everybody down here. 'Cause 'most everybody forgets God, 'cept Mr. +Bosaw, and I 'low God don't no ways keer to be remembered by sich +as him. Leastways I wouldn't if I was God, you know. I wonder what +becomes of folks when God forgets 'em?" And Shocky, seeing that the +master had resumed his seat and was looking absently into the fire, +moved slowly out the door.</p> +<p>"Shocky!" called the master.</p> +<p>The little poet came back and stood before him.</p> +<p>"Shocky, you mustn't think God has forgotten you. God brings +things out right at last." But Ralph's own faith was weak, and his +words sounded hollow and hypocritical to himself. Would God indeed +bring things out right?</p> +<p>He sat musing a good while, trying to convince himself of the +truth of what he had just been saying to Shocky—that God +would indeed bring things out right at last. Would it all come out +right if Bud married Hannah? Would it all come out right if he were +driven from Flat Creek with a dark suspicion upon his character? +Did God concern himself with these things? Was there any God? It +was the same old struggle between Doubt and Faith. And when Ralph +looked up, Shocky had departed.</p> +<p>In the next hour Ralph fought the old battle of Armageddon. I +shall not describe it. You will fight it in your own way. No two +alike. The important thing is the End. If you come out as he did, +with the doubt gone and the trust in God victorious, it matters +little just what shape the battle may take. Since Jacob became +Israel there have never been two such struggles alike, save in that +they all end either in victory or in defeat.</p> +<p>It was after twelve o'clock on that Christmas day when Ralph put +his head out the door of the school-house and called out: "Bud, I'd +like to see you."</p> +<p>Bud did not care to see the master, for he had inly resolved to +"thrash him" and have done with him. But he couldn't back out, +certainly not in sight of the others who were passing along the +road with him.</p> +<p>"I don't want the rest of you," said Ralph in a decided way, as +he saw that Hank and one or two others were resolved to come +also.</p> +<p>"Thought maybe you'd want somebody to see far play," said Hank +as he went off sheepishly.</p> +<p>"If I did, you would be the last one I should ask," said Ralph. +"There's no unfair play in Bud, and there is in you." And he shut +the door.</p> +<p>"Now, looky here, Mr. Ralph Hartsook," said Bud. "You don't come +no gum games over me with your saft sodder and all that. I've made +up my mind. You've got to promise to leave these 'ere digging, or +I've got to thrash you."</p> +<p>"You'll have to thrash me, then," said Ralph, turning a little +pale, but remembering the bulldog. "But you'll tell me what It's +all about, won't you?"</p> +<p>"You know well enough. Folks says you know more 'bout the +robbery at the Dutchman's than you orter. But I don't believe them. +Fer them as says it is liars and thieves theirselves. 'Ta'n't fer +none of that. And I shan't tell you what it <i>is</i> fer. So now, +if you won't travel, why, take off your coat and git ready fer a +thrashing."</p> +<p>The master took off his coat and showed his slender arms. Bud +laid his off, and showed the physique of a prize-fighter.</p> +<p>"You a'n't a-goin to fight <i>me</i>?" said Bud.</p> +<p>"Not unless you make me."</p> +<p>"Why I could chaw you all up."</p> +<p>"I know that."</p> +<p>"Well, you're the grittiest feller I ever did see, and ef you'd +jest kep off of my ground I wouldn't a touched you. But I a'n't +a-goin' to be cut out by no feller a livin' 'thout thrashin' him in +an inch of his life. You see I wanted to git out of this Flat Crick +way. We're a low-lived set here in Flat Crick. And I says to +myself, I'll try to be somethin' more nor Pete Jones, and dad, and +these other triflin', good-fer-nothin' ones 'bout here. And when +you come I says, There's one as'll help me. And what do you do with +yor book-larnin' and town manners but start right out to git away +the gal that I'd picked out, when I'd picked her out kase I +thought, not bein' Flat Crick born herself, she might help a feller +to do better! Now I won't let nobody cut me out without givin' 'em +the best thrashin' it's in these 'ere arms to give."</p> +<p>"But I haven't tried to cut you out."</p> +<p>"You can't fool <i>me</i>."</p> +<p>"Bud, listen to me, and then thrash me if you will. I went with +that girl once. When I found you had some claims, I gave her up. +Not because I was afraid of you, for I would rather have taken the +worst thrashing you can give me than give her up. But I haven't +spoken to her since the night of the first spelling-school."</p> +<p>"You lie!" said Bud, doubling his fists.</p> +<p>Ralph grew red.</p> +<p>"You was a-waitin' on her last Sunday right afore my eyes, and +a-tryin' to ketch my attention too. So when you're ready say +so."</p> +<p>"Bud, there is some misunderstanding." Hartsook spoke slowly and +felt bewildered. "I tell you that I did not speak to Hannah last +Sunday, and you know I didn't."</p> +<p>"Hanner!" Bud's eyes grew large. "Hanner!" Here he gasped for +breath, and looked around, "Hanner!" He couldn't get any further +than the name at first. "Why, plague take it, who said Hanner?"</p> +<p>"Mirandy said you were courting Hannah," said Ralph, feeling +round in a vague way to get his ideas together.</p> +<p>"Mirandy! Thunder! You believed Mirandy! Well! Now, looky here, +Mr. Hartsook, ef you was to say that my sister lied, I'd lick you +till yer hide wouldn't hold shucks. But <i>I</i> say, a-twix you +and me and the gate-post, don't you never believe nothing that +Mirandy Means says. Her and marm has set theirselves like fools to +git you. Hanner! Well, she's a mighty nice gal, but you're welcome +to <i>her</i>. I never tuck no shine that air way. But I was out of +school last Thursday and Friday a-shucking corn to take to mill +a-Saturday. And when I come past the Squire's and seed you talking +to a gal as is a gal, you know"—here Bud hesitated and looked +foolish—"I felt hoppin' mad."</p> +<p>Bud put on his coat.</p> +<p>Ralph put on his coat.</p> +<p>Then they shook hands and Bud went out. Ralph sat looking into +the fire. There was no conscientious difficulty now in the way of +his claiming Hannah. The dry forestick lying on the rude stone +andirons burst into a blaze. The smoldering hope In the heart of +Ralph Hartsook did the same. He could have Hannah If he could win +her. But there came slowly back the recollection of his lost +standing in Flat Creek. There was circumstantial evidence against +him. It was evident that Hannah believed something of this. What +other stones Small might have put in circulation he did not know. +Would Small try to win Hannah's love to throw it away again, as he +had done with others? At least he would not spare any pains to turn +the heart of the bound girl against Ralph.</p> +<p>The bright flame on the forestick, which Ralph had been +watching, flickered and burned low.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV.</h2> +<h3>THE CHURCH OF THE BEST LICKS.</h3> +<p>Just as the flame on the forestick, which Ralph had watched so +intensely, flickered and burned low, and just as Ralph with a heavy +but not quite hopeless heart rose to leave, the latch lifted and +Bud re-entered.</p> +<p>"I wanted to say something," he stammered, "but you know it's +hard to say it. I ha'n't no book-larnin to speak of, and some +things is hard to say when a man ha'n't got book-words to say 'em +with. And they's some things a man can't hardly ever say anyhow to +anybody."</p> +<p>Here Bud stopped. But Ralph spoke in such a matter-of-course way +in reply that he felt encouraged to go on.</p> +<p>"You gin up Hanner kase you thought she belonged to me. That's +more'n I'd a done by a long shot. Now, arter I left here jest now, +I says to myself, a man what can gin up his gal on account of sech +a feeling fer the rights of a Flat Cricker like me, why, dog-on it, +says I, sech a man is the man as can help me do better. I don't +know whether you're a Hardshell or a Saftshell, or a Methodist, or +a Campbellite, or a New Light, or a United Brother, or a Millerite, +or what-not. But I says, the man what can do the clean thing by a +ugly feller like me, and stick to it, when I was jest ready to eat +him up, is a kind of a man to tie to."</p> +<p>Here Bud stopped in fright at his own volubility, for he had run +his words off like a piece learned by heart, as though afraid that +if he stopped he would not have courage to go on.</p> +<p>Ralph said that he did not belong to any church, and he was +afraid he couldn't do Bud much good. But his tone was full of +sympathy, and, what is better than sympathy, a yearning for +sympathy.</p> +<p>"You see," said Bud, "I wanted to git out of this low-lived, +Flat Crick way of livin'. We're a hard set down here, Mr. Hartsook. +And I'm gittin' to be one of the hardest of 'em. But I never could +git no good out of Bosaw with his whisky and meanness. And I went +to the Mount Tabor church concert. I heard a man discussin' +baptism, and regeneration, and so on. That didn't seem no cure for +me, I went to a revival over at Clifty. Well, 'twarn't no use. +First night they was a man that spoke about Jesus Christ in sech a +way that I wanted to foller him everywhere. But I didn't feel fit. +Next night I come back with my mind made up that I'd try Jesus +Christ, and see ef he'd have me. But laws! they was a big man that +night that preached hell. Not that I don't believe they's a hell. +They's plenty not a thousand miles away as deserves it, and I don't +know as I'm too good for it myself. But he pitched it at us, and +stuck it in our faces in sech a way that I got mad. And I says, +Well, ef God sends me to hell he can't make me holler 'nough nohow. +You see my dander was up. And when my dander's up, I wouldn't gin +up fer the devil his-self. The preacher was so insultin' with his +way of doin' it. He seemed to be kind of glad that we was to be +damned, and he preached somethin' like some folks swears. It didn't +sound a bit like the Christ the little man preached about the night +afore. So what does me and a lot of fellers do but slip out and cut +off the big preacher's stirrups, and hang 'em on to the rider of +the fence, and then set his hoss loose! And from that day, +sometimes I did, and sometimes I didn't, want to be better. And +to-day it seemed to me that you must know somethin' as would help +me."</p> +<p>Nothing is worse than a religious experience kept ready to be +exposed to the gaze of everybody, whether the time is appropriate +or not. But never was a religious experience more appropriate than +the account which Ralph gave to Bud of his Struggle in the Dark. +The confession of his weakness and wicked selfishness was a great +comfort to Bud.</p> +<p>"Do you think that Jesus Christ would—would—well, do +you think he'd help a poor, unlarnt Flat Cricker like me?"</p> +<p>"I think he was a sort of a Flat Creeker himself," said Ralph, +slowly and very earnestly.</p> +<p>"You don't say?" said Bud, almost getting off his seat.</p> +<p>"Why, you see the town he lived in was a rough place. It was +called Nazareth, which meant 'Bush-town.'"</p> +<p>"You don't say?"</p> +<p>"And he was called a Nazarene, which was about the same as +'backwoodsman.'"</p> +<p>And Ralph read the different passages which he had studied at +Sunday-school, illustrating the condescension of Jesus, the stories +of the publicans, the harlots, the poor, who came to him. And he +read about Nathanael, who lived only six miles away, saying, 'Can +any good thing come out of Nazareth?'"</p> +<p>"Jus' what Clifty folks says about Flat Crick," broke in +Bud.</p> +<p>"Do you think I could begin without being baptized?" he added +presently.</p> +<p>"Why not? Let's begin now to do the best we can, by his +help."</p> +<p>"You mean, then, that I'm to begin now to put in my best licks +for Jesus Christ, and that he'll help me?"</p> +<p>This shocked Ralph's veneration a little. But it was the sincere +utterance of an earnest soul. It may not have been an orthodox +start, but it was the one start for Bud. And there be those who +have repeated with the finest æsthetic appreciation the old +English liturgies who have never known religious aspiration so +sincere as that of this ignorant young Hercules, whose best +confession was that he meant hereafter "to put in his best licks +for Jesus Christ." And there be those who can define repentance and +faith to the turning of a hair who never made so genuine a start +for the kingdom of Heaven as Bud Means did.</p> +<p>Ralph said yes, that he thought that was just it. At least, he +guessed if there was something more, the man that was putting in +his best licks would be sure to find it out.</p> +<p>"Do you think he'd help a feller? Seems to me it would be number +one to have God help you. Not to help you fight other folks, but to +help you when it comes to fighting the devil inside. But you see I +don't belong to no church"</p> +<p>"Well, let's you and me have one right off. Two people that help +one another to serve God make a church."</p> +<p>I am afraid this ecclesiastical theory will not be considered +orthodox. It was Ralph's, and I write it down at the risk of +bringing him into condemnation.</p> +<p>But other people before the days of Bud and Ralph have discussed +church organization when they should have been doing Christian +work. For both of them had forgotten the danger that hung over the +old basket-maker, until Shocky burst into the school-house, +weeping. Indeed, the poor, nervous little frame was ready to go +into convulsions.</p> +<p>"Miss Hawkins—"</p> +<p>Bud started at mention of the name.</p> +<p>"Miss Hawkins has just been over to say that a crowd is going to +tar and feather Mr. Pearson to-night. And—" here Shocky wept +again. "And he won't run, but he's took up the old flintlock, and +he'll die in his tracks."</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI.</h2> +<h3>THE CHURCH MILITANT.</h3> +<p>Bud was doubly enlisted on the side of John Pearson, the +basket-maker. In the first place, he knew that this persecution of +the unpopular old man was only a blind to save somebody else; that +they were thieves who cried, "Stop thief!" And he felt consequently +that this was a chance to put his newly-formed resolutions into +practice. The Old Testament religious life, which consists in +fighting the Lord's enemies, suited Bud's temper and education. It +might lead to something better. It was the best possible to him, +now. But I am afraid I shall have to acknowledge that there was a +second motive that moved Bud to this championship. The good heart +of Martha Hawkins having espoused the cause of the basket-maker, +the heart of Bud Means could not help feeling warmly on the same +side. Blessed is that man in whose life the driving of duty and the +drawing of love impel the same way! But why speak of the driving of +duty? For already Bud was learning the better lesson of serving God +for the love of God.</p> +<p>The old basket-maker was the most unpopular man in Flat Creek +district. He had two great vices. He would go to Clifty and have a +"spree" once in three months. And he would tell the truth in a most +unscrupulous manner. A man given to plain speaking was quite as +objectionable in Flat Creek as he would have been in France under +the Empire, the Commune, or the Republic, and almost as +objectionable as he would be in any refined community in America. +People who live in glass houses have a horror of people who throw +stones. And the old basket-maker, having no friends, was a good +scape-goat. In driving him off, Pete Jones would get rid of a +dangerous neighbor and divert attention from himself. The immediate +crime of the basket-maker was that he had happened to see too +much.</p> +<p>"Mr. Hartsook," said Bud, when they got out into the road, +"you'd better go straight home to the Squire's. Bekase ef this +lightnin' strikes a second time it'll strike awful closte to you. +You hadn't better be seen with us. Which way did you come, +Shocky?"</p> +<p>"Why, I tried to come down the holler, but I met Jones right by +the big road, and he sweared at me and said he'd kill me ef I +didn't go back and stay. And so I went back to the house and then +slipped out through the graveyard. You see I was bound to come ef I +got skinned. For Mr. Pearson's, stuck to me and I mean to stick to +him, you see."</p> +<p>Bud led Shocky through the graveyard. But when they reached the +forest path from the graveyard he thought that perhaps it was not +best to "show his hand," as he expressed it, too soon.</p> +<p>"Now, Shocky," he said, "do you run ahead and tell the ole man +that I want to see him right off down by the Spring-in-rock. I'll +keep closte behind you, and ef anybody offers to trouble you, do +you let off a yell and I'll be thar in no time."</p> +<p>When Ralph left the school-house he felt mean. There were Bud +and Shocky gone on an errand of mercy, and he, the truant member of +the Church of the Best Licks, was not with them. The more he +thought of it the more he seemed to be a coward, and the more he +despised himself; so, yielding as usual to the first brave impulse, +he leaped nimbly over the fence and started briskly through the +forest in a direction intersecting the path on which were Bud and +Shocky. He came in sight just in time to see the first conflict of +the Church in the Wilderness with her foes.</p> +<p>For Shocky's little feet went more swiftly on their eager errand +than Bud had anticipated. He got farther out of Bud's reach than +the latter intended he should, and he did not discover Pete Jones +until Pete, with his hog-drover's whip, was right upon him.</p> +<p>Shocky tried to halloo for Bud, but he was like one in a +nightmare. The yell died into a whisper which could not have been +heard ten feet.</p> +<p>I shall not repeat Mr. Jones's words. They were frightfully +profane. But he did not stop at words. He swept his whip round and +gave little Shocky one terrible cut. Then the voice was released, +and the piercing cry of pain brought Bud down the path flying.</p> +<p>"You good-for-nothing scoundrel," growled Bud, "you're a coward +and a thief to be a-beatin' a little creetur like him!" and with +that Bud walked up on Jones, who prudently changed position in such +a way as to get the upper side of the hill.</p> +<p>"Well, I'll gin you the upper side, but come on," cried Bud, "ef +you a'n't afeared to fight somebody besides a poor little sickly +baby or a crippled soldier. Come on!"</p> +<div class="figcenter"><br /> +<a href="images/illus-181.jpg"><img src="images/illus-181.jpg" +width="45%" alt="" title="" /></a><br /> +<b>Bud Means comes to the rescue of Shocky.</b> +<br /></div> +<p>Pete was no insignificant antagonist. He had been a great +fighter, and his well-seasoned arms were like iron. He had not the +splendid set of Bud, but he had more skill and experience in the +rude tournament of fists to which the backwoods is so much given. +Now, being out of sight of witnesses and sure that he could lie +about the fight afterward, he did not scruple to take advantages +which would have disgraced him forever if he had taken them in a +public fight on election day or at a muster. He took the uphill +side, and he clubbed his whip-stalk, striking Bud with all his +force with the heavy end, which, coward-like, he had loaded with +lead. Bud threw up his strong left arm and parried the blow, which, +however, was so fierce that it fractured one of the bones of the +arm. Throwing away his whip Pete rushed upon Bud furiously, +intending to overpower him, but Bud slipped quickly to one side and +let Jones pass down the hill, and as Jones came up again Means +dealt him one crushing blow that sent him full length upon the +ground. Nothing but the leaves saved him from a most terrible fall. +Jones sprang to his feet more angry than ever at being whipped by +one whom he regarded as a boy, and drew a long dirk-knife. But he +was blind with rage, and Bud dodged the knife, and this time gave +Pete a blow on the nose which marred the homeliness of that feature +and doubled the fellow up against a tree ten feet away.</p> +<p>Ralph came in sight in time to see the beginning of the fight, +and he arrived on the ground just as Pete Jones went down under the +well-dealt blow from the only remaining fist of Bud Means.</p> +<p>While Ralph examined Bud's disabled left arm Pete picked himself +up slowly, and, muttering that he felt "consid'able shuck up like," +crawled away like a whipped puppy. To every one whom he met, Pete, +whose intellect seemed to have weakened in sympathy with his frame, +remarked feebly that he was consid'able shuck up like, and +vouchsafed no other explanation. Even to his wife he only said that +he felt purty consid'able shuck up like, and that the boys would +have to get on to-night without him. There are some scoundrels +whose very malignity is shaken out of them for the time being by a +thorough drubbing.</p> +<p>"I'm afraid you're going to have trouble with your arm, Bud," +said Ralph tenderly.</p> +<p>"Never mind; I put in my best licks fer <i>Him</i> that air +time, Mr. Hartsook." Ralph shivered a little at thought of this, +but if it was right to knock Jones down at all, why might not Bud +do it "heartily as unto the Lord?"</p> +<p>Gideon did not feel any more honest pleasure in chastising the +Midianites than did Bud in sending Pete Jones away purty +consid'able shuck up like.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII.</h2> +<h3>A COUNCIL OF WAR.</h3> +<p>Shocky, whose feet had flown as soon as he saw the final fall of +Pete Jones, told the whole story to the wondering and admiring ears +of Miss Hawkins, who unhappily could not remember anything at the +East just like it; to the frightened ears of the rheumatic old lady +who felt sure her ole man's talk and stubbornness would be the ruin +of him, and to the indignant ears of the old soldier who was +hobbling up and down, sentinel-wise, in front of his cabin, +standing guard over himself.</p> +<p>"No, I won't leave," he said to Ralph and Bud. "You see I jest +won't. What would Gin'ral Winfield Scott say ef he knew that one of +them as fit at Lundy's Lane backed out, retreated, run fer fear of +a passel of thieves? No, sir; me and the old flintlock will live +and die together. I'll put a thunderin' charge of buckshot into the +first one of them scoundrels as comes up the holler. It'll be +another Lundy's Lane. And you, Mr. Hartsook, may send Scott word +that ole Pearson, as fit at Lundy's Lane under him, died a-fightin' +thieves on Rocky Branch, in Hoopole Kyounty, State of +Injeanny."</p> +<p>And the old man hobbled faster and faster, taxing his wooden leg +to the very utmost, as if his victory depended on the vehemence +with which he walked his beat.</p> +<p>Mrs. Pearson sat wringing her hands and looking appealingly at +Martha Hawkins, who stood in the door, in despair, looking +appealingly at Bud. Bud was stupefied by the old man's stubbornness +and his own pain, and in his turn appealed mutely to the master, in +whose resources he had boundless confidence. Ralph, seeing that all +depended on him, was taxing his wits to think of some way to get +round Pearson's stubbornness. Shocky hung to the old man's coat and +pulled away at him with many entreating words, but the venerable, +bare-headed sentinel strode up and down furiously, with his +flintlock on his shoulder and his basket-knife in his belt.</p> +<p>Just at this point somebody could be seen indistinctly through +the bushes coming up the hollow.</p> +<p>"Halt!" cried the old hero. "Who goes there?"</p> +<p>"It's me, Mr. Pearson. Don't shoot me, please."</p> +<p>It was the voice of Hannah Thomson. Hearing that the whole +neighborhood was rising against the benefactor of Shocky and of her +family, she had slipped away from the eyes of her mistress, and run +with breathless haste to give warning in the cabin on Rocky Branch. +Seeing Ralph, she blushed, and went into the cabin.</p> +<p>"Well," said Ralph, "the enemy is not coming yet. Let us hold a +council of war."</p> +<p>This thought came to Ralph like an inspiration. It pleased the +old man's whim, and he sat down on the door-step.</p> +<p>"Now, I suppose," said Ralph, "that General Winfield Scott +always looked into things a little before he went into a fight. +Didn't he?"</p> +<p>"<i>To</i> be sure," assented the old man.</p> +<p>"Well," said Ralph. "What is the condition of the enemy? I +suppose the whole neighborhood's against us."</p> +<p>"<i>To</i> be sure," said the old man. The rest were silent, but +all felt the statement to be about true.</p> +<p>"Next," said Ralph, "I suppose General Winfield Scott would +always inquire into the condition of his own troops. Now let us +see. Captain Pearson has Bud, who is the right wing, badly crippled +by having his arm broken in the first battle." (Miss Hawkins looked +pale.)</p> +<p>"<i>To</i> be sure," said the old man.</p> +<p>"And I am the left wing, pretty good at giving advice, but very +slender in a fight."</p> +<p>"<i>To</i> be sure," said the old man.</p> +<p>"And Shocky and Miss Martha and Hannah good aids, but nothing in +a battle."</p> +<p>"<i>To</i> be sure," said the basket-maker, a little +doubtfully.</p> +<p>"Now let's look at the arms and accouterments, I think you call +them. Well, this old musket has been loaded—"</p> +<p>"This ten year," said the old lady.</p> +<p>"And the lock is so rusty that you could not cock it when you +wanted to take aim at Hannah."</p> +<p>The old man looked foolish, and muttered "<i>To</i> be +sure."</p> +<p>"And there isn't another round of ammunition in the house."</p> +<p>The old man was silent.</p> +<p>"Now let us look at the incumbrances. Here's the old lady and +Shocky. If you fight, the enemy will be pleased. It will give them +a chance to kill you. And then the old lady will die and they will +do with Shocky as they please."</p> +<p>"<i>To</i> be sure," said the old man reflectively.</p> +<p>"Now," said Ralph, "General Winfield Scott, under such +circumstances, would retreat in good order. Then, when he could +muster his forces rightly, he would drive the enemy from his +ground."</p> +<p>"To be sure," said the old man. "What ort I to do?"</p> +<p>"Have you any friends?"</p> +<p>"Well, yes; ther's my brother over in Jackson Kyounty. I mout go +there."</p> +<p>"Well," said Bud, "do you just go down to Spring-in-rock and +stay there. Them folks won't be here tell midnight. I'll come fer +you at nine with my roan colt, and I'll set you down over on the +big road on Buckeye Run. Then you can git on the mail-wagon that +passes there about five o'clock in the mornin', and go over to +Jackson County and keep shady till we want you to face the enemy +and to swear agin some folks. And then well send fer you."</p> +<p>"To be sure," said the old man in a broken voice. "I reckon +General Winfield Scott wouldn't disapprove of such a maneuver as +that thar."</p> +<p>Miss Martha beamed on Bud to his evident delight, for he carried +his painful arm part of the way home with her. Ralph noticed that +Hannah looked at <i>him</i> with a look full of contending +emotions. He read admiration, gratitude, and doubt in the +expression of her face, as she turned toward home.</p> +<p>"Well, good-by, ole woman," said Pearson, as he took up his +little handkerchief full of things and started for his +hiding-place; "good-by. I didn't never think I'd desart you, and ef +the old flintlock hadn't a been rusty, I'd a staid and died right +here by the ole cabin. But I reckon 'ta'n't best to be +brash<a name="FNanchor_22_22" id="FNanchor_22_22"></a><a href= +"#Footnote_22_22" class="fnanchor">[22]</a>." And Shocky looked +after him, as he hobbled away over the stones, more than ever +convinced that God had forgotten all about things on Flat Creek. He +gravely expressed his opinion to the master the next day.</p> +<div class="footnotes"> +<p class="center">FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"> +<p><a name="Footnote_22_22" id="Footnote_22_22"></a><a href= +"#FNanchor_22_22"><span class="label">[22]</span></a> The elaborate +etymological treatment of this word in its various forms in our +best dictionary is a fine illustration of the fact that something +more than scholarship is needed for penetrating the mysteries of +current folk-speech. <i>Brash</i>—often <i>bresh</i>—in +the sense of refuse boughs of trees, is only another form of +<i>brush</i>; the two are used as one word by the people. +<i>Brash</i> in the sense of brittle has no conscious connection +with the noun in popular usage, but it is accounted by the people +the same word as <i>brash</i> in the sense of rash or impetuous. +The suggestion in the Century Dictionary that the words spelled +<i>brash</i> are of modern formation violates the soundest canon of +antiquarian research, which is that a word phrase or custom widely +diffused among plain or rustic people is of necessity of ancient +origin. Now <i>brash</i>, the adjective, exists in both senses in +two or three of the most widely separated dialects of the United +States, and hence must have come from England. Indeed, it appears +in Wright's Dictionary of Provincial English in precisely the sense +it has in the text.</p> +</div> +</div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER +XVIII.</h2> +<h3>ODDS AND ENDS.</h3> +<p>The Spring-in-rock, or, as it was sometimes, by a curious +perversion, called, the "rock-in-spring," was a spring running out +of a cave-like fissure in a high limestone cliff. Here the old man +sheltered himself on that dreary Christmas evening, until Bud +brought his roan colt to the top of the cliff above, and he and +Ralph helped the old man up the cliff and into the saddle. Ralph +went back to bed, but Bud, who was only too eager to put in his +best licks, walked by the side of old John Pearson the six miles +over to Buckeye Run, and at last, after eleven o'clock, he +deposited him in a hollow sycamore by the road, there to wait the +coming of the mail-wagon that would carry him into Jackson +County.</p> +<p>"Good-by," said the basket-maker, as Bud mounted the colt to +return. "Ef I'm wanted jest send me word, and I'll make a forrard +movement any time. I don't like this 'ere thing of running off in +the night-time. But I reckon General Winfield Scott would a ordered +a retreat ef he'd a been in my shoes. I'm lots obleeged to you. +Akordin' to my tell, we're all of us selfish in everything; but +I'll be dog-on'd ef I don't believe you and one or two more is +exceptions."</p> +<p>Whether it was that the fact that Pete Jones had got consid'able +shuck up demoralized his followers, or whether it was that the old +man's flight was suspected, the mob did not turn out in very great +force, and the tarring was postponed indefinitely, for by the time +they came together it became known somehow that the man with a +wooden leg had outrun them all. But the escape of one devoted +victim did not mollify the feelings of the people toward the next +one.</p> +<p>By the time Bud returned his arm was very painful, and the next +day he went under Dr. Small's treatment to reduce the fracture. +Whatever suspicions Bud might have of Pete Jones, he was not +afflicted with Ralph's dread of the silent young doctor. And if +there was anything Small admired it was physical strength and +courage. Small wanted Bud on his side, and least of all did he want +him to be Ralph's champion. So that the silent, cool, and skillful +doctor went to work to make an impression on Bud Means.</p> +<p>Other influences were at work upon him also. Mrs. Means volleyed +and thundered in her usual style about his "takin' up with a +one-legged thief, and runnin' arter that master that was a mighty +suspicious kind of a customer, akordin' to her tell. She'd allers +said so. Ef she'd a been consulted he wouldn't a been hired. He +warn't fit company fer nobody."</p> +<p>And old Jack Means 'lowed Bud must want to have <i>their</i> +barns burnt like some other folkses had been. Fer his part, he had +sense enough to know they was some people as it wouldn't do to set +a body's self agin. And as fer him, he didn't butt his brains out +agin a buckeye-tree. Not when he was sober. And so they managed, +during Bud's confinement to the house, to keep him well supplied +with all the ordinary discomforts of life.</p> +<p>But one visit from Martha Hawkins, ten words of kindly inquiry +from her, and the remark that his broken arm reminded her of +something she had seen at the East and something somebody said the +time she was to Bosting, were enough to repay the champion a +thousand fold for all that he suffered. Indeed, that visit, and the +recollection of Ralph's saying that Jesus Christ was a sort of a +Flat Creeker himself, were manna in the wilderness to Bud.</p> +<p>Poor Shocky was sick. The excitement had been too much for him, +and though his fever was very slight it was enough to produce just +a little delirium. Either Ralph or Miss Martha was generally at the +cabin.</p> +<p>"They're coming," said Shocky to Ralph, "they're coming. Pete +Jones is a-going to bind me out for a hundred years. I wish Hanner +would hold me so's he couldn't. God's forgot all about us here in +Flat Creek, and there's nobody to help it."</p> +<p>And he shivered at every sudden sound. He was never free from +this delirious fright except when the master held him tight in his +arms. He staggered around the floor, the very shadow of Shocky, and +was so terrified by the approach of darkness that Ralph staid in +the cabin on Wednesday night and Miss Hawkins staid on Thursday +night. On Friday, Bud sent a note to Ralph, askin him to come and +see him.</p> +<p>"You see, Mr. Hartsook, I ha'n't forgot what was said about +puttin' in our best licks for Jesus Christ. I've been a-trying to +read some about him while I set here. And I read where he said +somethin about doing fer the least of his brethren being as the +same like as if it was done fer Jesus Christ his-self. Now there's +Shocky. I reckon, p'r'aps, as anybody is a little brother of Jesus +Christ, it is that Shocky. Pete Jones and his brother Bill is +determined to have him back there to-morry. Bekase you see, Pete's +one of the County Commissioners and to-morry's the day that they +bind out. He wants to bind out that boy jes' to spite ole Pearson +and you and me. You see, the ole woman's been helped by the +neighbors, and he'll claim Shocky to be a pauper, and they a'n't no +human soul here as dares to do a thing con<i>tra</i>ry to Pete. +Couldn't you git him over to Lewisburg? I'll lend you my roan +colt."</p> +<p>Ralph thought a minute. He dared not take Shocky to the uncle's +where he found his only home. But there was Miss Nancy Sawyer, the +old maid who was everybody's blessing. He could ask her to keep +him. And, at any rate, he would save Shocky somehow.</p> +<p>As he went out in the dusk, he met Hannah in the lane.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX.</h2> +<h3>FACE TO FACE.</h3> +<p>In the lane, in the dark, under the shadow of the barn, Ralph +met Hannah carrying her bucket of milk (they have no pails in +Indiana)<a name="FNanchor_23_23" id="FNanchor_23_23"></a><a href= +"#Footnote_23_23" class="fnanchor">[23]</a>. He could see only the +white foam on the milk, and Hannah's white face. Perhaps it was +well that he could not see how white Hannah's face was at that +moment when a sudden trembling made her set down the heavy bucket. +At first neither spoke. The recollection of all the joy of that +walk together in the night came upon them both. And a great sense +of loss made the night seem supernaturally dark to Ralph. Nor was +it any lighter in the hopeless heart of the bound girl. The +presence of Ralph did not now, as before, make the darkness of her +life light.</p> +<p>"Hannah—" said Ralph presently, and stopped. For he could +not finish the sentence. With a rush there came upon him a +consciousness of the suspicions that filled Hannah's mind. And with +it there came a feeling of guilt. He saw himself from her +stand-point, and felt a remorse almost as keen as it could have +been had he been a criminal. And this sudden and morbid sense of +his guilt as it appeared to Hannah paralyzed him. But when Hannah +lifted her bucket with her hand, and the world with her heavy +heart, and essayed to pass him, Ralph rallied and said:</p> +<p>"<i>You</i> don't believe all these lies that are told about +me."</p> +<p>"I don't believe anything, Mr. Hartsook; that is, I don't want +to believe anything against you. And I wouldn't mind anything they +say if it wasn't for two things"—here she stammered and +looked down.</p> +<p>"If it wasn't for what?" said Ralph with a spice of indignant +denial in his voice.</p> +<p>Hannah hesitated, but Ralph pressed the question with +eagerness.</p> +<p>"I saw you cross that blue-grass pasture the night—the +night that you walked home with me." She would have said the night +of the robbery, but her heart smote her, and she adopted the more +kindly form of the sentence.</p> +<p>Ralph would have explained, but how?</p> +<p>"I did cross the pasture," he began, "but—"</p> +<p>Just here it occurred to Ralph that there was no reason for his +night excursion across the pasture. Hannah again took up her +bucket, but he said:</p> +<p>"Tell me what else you have against me."</p> +<p>"I haven't anything against you. Only I am poor and friendless, +and you oughtn't to make my life any heavier. They say that you +have paid attention to a great many girls. I don't know why you +should want to trifle with me."</p> +<p>Ralph answered her this time. He spoke low. He spoke as though +he were speaking to God. "If any man says that I ever trifled with +any woman, he lies. I have never loved but one, and you know who +that is. And God knows."</p> +<p>"I don't know what to say, Mr. Hartsook." Hannah's voice was +broken. These solemn words of love were like a river in the desert, +and she was like a wanderer dying of thirst. "I don't know, Mr. +Hartsook. If I was alone, it wouldn't matter. But I've got my blind +mother and my poor Shocky to look after. And I don't want to make +mistakes. And the world is so full of lies I don't know what to +believe. Somehow I can't help believing what you say. You seem to +speak so true. But—"</p> +<p>"But what?" said Ralph.</p> +<p>"But you know how I saw you just as kind to Martha Hawkins on +Sunday as—as—"</p> +<p>"Han—ner!" It was the melodious voice of the angry Mrs. +Means, and Hannah lifted her pail and disappeared.</p> +<p>Standing in the shadow of his own despair, Ralph felt how dark a +night could be when it had no promise of morning.</p> +<p>And Dr. Small, who had been stabling his horse just inside the +barn, came out and moved quietly into the house just as though he +had not listened intently to every word of the conversation.</p> +<p>As Ralph walked away he tried to comfort himself by calling to +his aid the bulldog in his character. But somehow it did not do him +any good. For what is a bulldog but a stoic philosopher? Stoicism +has its value, but Ralph had come to a place where stoicism was of +no account. The memory of the Helper, of his sorrow, his brave and +victorious endurance, came when stoicism failed. Happiness might go +out of life, but in the light of Christ's life happiness seemed but +a small element anyhow. The love of woman might be denied him, but +there still remained what was infinitely more precious and holy, +the love of God. There still remained the possibility of heroic +living. Working, suffering, and enduring still remained. And he who +can work for God and endure for God, surely has yet the best of +life left. And, like the knights who could find the Holy Grail only +in losing themselves, Hartsook, in throwing his happiness out of +the count, found the purest happiness, a sense of the victory of +the soul over the tribulations of life. The man who knows this +victory scarcely needs the encouragement of the hope of future +happiness. There is a real heaven in bravely lifting the load of +one's own sorrow and work.</p> +<p>And it was a good thing for Ralph that the danger hanging over +Shocky made immediate action necessary.</p> +<div class="footnotes"> +<p class="center">FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"> +<p><a name="Footnote_23_23" id="Footnote_23_23"></a><a href= +"#FNanchor_23_23"><span class="label">[23]</span></a> The total +absence of the word <i>pail</i> not only from the dialect, but even +from cultivated speech in the Southern and Border States until very +recently, is a fact I leave to be explained on further +investigation. The word is an old one and a good one, but I fancy +that its use in England could not have been generally diffused in +the seventeenth century. So a Hoosier or a Kentuckian never +<i>pared</i> an apple, but <i>peeled</i> it. Much light might be +thrown on the origin and history of our dialects by investigating +their deficiencies.</p> +</div> +</div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a>CHAPTER XX.</h2> +<h3>GOD REMEMBERS SHOCKY.</h3> +<p>At four o'clock the next morning, in the midst of a driving +snow, Ralph went timidly up the lane toward the homely castle of +the Meanses. He went timidly, for he was afraid of Bull. But he +found Bud waiting for him, with the roan colt bridled and saddled. +The roan colt was really a large three-year-old, full of the finest +sort of animal life, and having, as Bud declared, "a mighty sight +of hoss sense fer his age." He seemed to understand at once that +there was something extraordinary on hand when he was brought out +of his comfortable quarters at four in the morning in the midst of +a snow-storm. Bud was sure that the roan colt felt his +responsibility.</p> +<p>In the days that followed, Ralph often had occasion to remember +this interview with Bud, who had risked much in bringing his +fractured arm out into the cold, damp air. Jonathan never clave to +David more earnestly than did Bud this December morning to +Ralph.</p> +<p>"You see, Mr. Hartsook," said Bud, "I wish I was well myself. +It's hard to set still. But it's a-doing me a heap of good. I'm +like a boy at school. And I'm a-findin' out that doing one's best +licks fer others ain't all they is of it, though it's a good part. +I feel like as if I must git Him, you know, to do lots for me. +They's always some sums too hard fer a feller, and he has to ax the +master to do 'em, you know. But see, the roan's a-stomping round. +He wants to be off. Do you know I think that hoss knows something's +up? I think he puts in his best licks fer me a good deal better +than I do fer Him."</p> +<p>Ralph pressed Bud's right hand. Bud rubbed his face against the +colt's nose and said: "Put in your best licks, old fellow." And the +colt whinnied. How a horse must want to speak! For Bud was right. +Men are gods to horses, and they serve their deities with a +faithfulness that shames us.</p> +<p>Then Ralph sprang into the saddle, and the roan, as if wishing +to show Bud his willingness, broke into a swinging gallop, and was +soon lost to the sight of his master in the darkness and the snow. +When Bud could no more hear the sound of the roan's footsteps he +returned to the house, to lie awake picturing to himself the +journey of Ralph with Shocky and the roan colt. It was a great +comfort to Bud that the roan, which was almost a part of himself, +represented him in this ride. And he knew the roan well enough to +feel sure that he would do credit to his master. "He'll put in his +best licks," Bud whispered to himself many a time before +daybreak.</p> +<p>The ground was but little frozen, and the snow made the roads +more slippery than ever. But the rough-shod roan handled his feet +dexterously and with a playful and somewhat self-righteous air, as +though he said: "Didn't I do it handsomely that time?" Down +slippery hills, through deep mud-holes covered with a slender film +of ice he trod with perfect assurance. And then up over the rough +stones of Rocky Hollow, where there was no road at all, he picked +his way through the darkness and snow. Ralph could not tell where +he was at last, but gave the reins to the roan, who did his duty +bravely, and not without a little flourish, to show that he had yet +plenty of spare power.</p> +<p>A feeble candle-ray, making the dense snow-fall visible, marked +for Ralph the site of the basket-maker's cabin. Miss Martha had +been admitted to the secret, and had joined in the conspiracy +heartily, without being able to recall anything of the kind having +occurred at the East, and not remembering having seen or heard of +anything of the sort the time she was to Bosting. She had Shocky +all ready, having used some of her own capes and shawls to make him +warm.</p> +<p>Miss Martha came out to meet Ralph when she heard the feet of +the roan before the door.</p> +<p>"O Mr. Hartsook! is that you? What a storm. This is jest the way +it snows at the East. Shocky's all ready. He didn't know a thing +about it tell I waked him this morning. Ever since that he's been +saying that God hasn't forgot, after all. It's made me cry more'n +once." And Shocky kissed Mrs. Pearson, and told her that when he +got away from Flat Creek he'd tell God all about it, and God would +bring Mr. Pearson back again. And then Martha Hawkins lifted the +frail little form, bundled in shawls, in her arms, and brought him +out into the storm; and before she handed him up he embraced her, +and said: "O Miss Hawkins! God ha'n't forgot me, after all. Tell +Hanner that He ha'n't forgot. I'm going to ask him to git her away +from Means's and mother out of the poor-house. I'll ask him just as +soon as I get to Lewisburg."</p> +<p>Ralph lifted the trembling form into his arms, and the little +fellow only looked up in the face of the master and said: "You see, +Mr. Hartsook, I thought God had forgot. But he ha'n't."</p> +<p>And the words of the little boy comforted the master also. God +had not forgotten him, either!</p> +<p>From the moment that Ralph took Shocky into his arms, the +conduct of the roan colt underwent an entire revolution. Before +that he had gone over a bad place with a rush, as though he were +ambitious of distinguishing himself by his brilliant execution. Now +he trod none the less surely, but he trod tenderly. The neck was no +longer arched. He set himself to his work as steadily as though he +were twenty years old. For miles he traveled on in a long, swinging +walk, putting his feet down carefully and firmly. And Ralph found +the spirit of the colt entering into himself. He cut the snow-storm +with his face, and felt a sense of triumph over all his +difficulties. The bulldog's jaws had been his teacher, and now the +steady, strong, and conscientious legs of the roan inspired +him.</p> +<p>Shocky had not spoken. He lay listening to the pattering music +of the horse's feet, doubtless framing the footsteps of the roan +colt into an anthem of praise to the God who had not forgot. But as +the dawn came on, making the snow whiter, he raised himself and +said half-aloud, as he watched the flakes chasing one another in +whirling eddies, that the snow seemed to be having a good time of +it. Then he leaned down again on the master's bosom, full of a +still joy, and only roused himself from his happy reverie to ask +what that big, ugly-looking house was.</p> +<p>"See, Mr. Hartsook, how big it is, and how little and ugly the +windows is! And the boards is peeling off all over it, and the hogs +is right in the front yard. It don't look just like a house. It +looks dreadful. What is it?"</p> +<p>Ralph had dreaded this question. He did not answer it, but asked +Shocky to change his position a little, and then he quickened the +pace of the horse. But Shocky was a poet, and a poet understands +silence more quickly than he does speech. The little fellow +shivered as the truth came to him.</p> +<p>"Is that the poor-house?" he said, catching his breath. "Is my +mother in that place? <i>Won't</i> you take me in there, so as I +can just kiss her once? 'Cause she can't see much, you know. And +one kiss from me will make her feel so good. And I'll tell her that +God ha'n't forgot." He had raised up and caught hold of Ralph's +coat.</p> +<p>Ralph had great difficulty in quieting him. He told him that if +he went in there Bill Jones might claim that he was a runaway and +belonged there. And poor Shocky only shivered and said he was cold. +A minute later, Ralph found that he was shaking with a chill, and a +horrible dread came over him. What if Shocky should die? It was +only a minute's work to get down, take the warm horse-blanket from +under the saddle, and wrap it about the boy, then to strip off his +own overcoat and add that to it. It was now daylight, and finding, +after he had mounted, that Shocky continued to shiver, he put the +roan to his best speed for the rest of the way, trotting up and +down the slippery hills, and galloping away on the level ground. +How bravely the roan laid himself to his work, making the +fence-corners fly past in a long procession! But poor little Shocky +was too cold to notice them, and Ralph shuddered lest Shocky should +never be warm again, and spoke to the roan, and the roan stretched +out his head, and dropped one ear back to hear the first word of +command, and stretched the other forward to listen for danger, and +then flew with a splendid speed down the road, past the patches of +blackberry briars, past the elderberry bushes, past the familiar +red-haw tree in the fence-corner, over the bridge without regard to +the threat of a five-dollar fine, and at last up the long lane into +the village, where the smoke from the chimneys was caught and +whirled round with the snow.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a>CHAPTER XXI.</h2> +<h3>MISS NANCY SAWYER.</h3> +<p>In a little old cottage in Lewisburg, on one of the streets +which was never traveled except by a solitary cow seeking pasture +or a countryman bringing wood to some one of the half-dozen +families living in it, and which in summer was decked with a +profusion of the yellow and white blossoms of the +dog-fennel—in this unfrequented street, so generously and +unnecessarily broad, lived Miss Nancy Sawyer and her younger sister +Semantha. Miss Nancy was a providence, one of those old maids that +are benedictions to the whole town; one of those in whom the +mother-love, wanting the natural objects on which to spend itself, +overflows all bounds and lavishes itself on every needy thing, and +grows richer and more abundant with the spending, a fountain of +inexhaustible blessing. There is no nobler life possible to any one +than to an unmarried woman. The more shame that some choose a +selfish one, and thus turn to gall all the affection with which +they are endowed. Miss Nancy Sawyer had been Ralph's Sunday-school +teacher, and it was precious little, so far as information went, +that he learned from her; for she never could conceive of Jerusalem +as a place in any essential regard very different from Lewisburg, +where she had spent her life. But Ralph learned from her what most +Sunday-school teachers fail to teach, the great lesson of +Christianity, by the side of which all antiquities and geographies +and chronologies and exegetics and other niceties are as +nothing.</p> +<p>And now he turned the head of the roan toward the cottage of +Miss Nancy Sawyer as naturally as the roan would have gone to his +own stall in the stable at home. The snow had gradually ceased to +fall, and was eddying round the house, when Ralph dismounted from +his foaming horse, and, carrying the still form of Shocky as +reverently as though it had been something heavenly, knocked at +Miss Nancy Sawyer's door.</p> +<p>With natural feminine instinct that lady started back when she +saw Hartsook, for she had just built a fire in the stove, and she +now stood at the door with unwashed face and uncombed hair.</p> +<p>"Why, Ralph Hartsook, where did you drop down from—and +what have you got?"</p> +<p>"I came from Flat Creek this morning, and I brought you a little +angel who has got out of heaven, and needs some of your motherly +care."</p> +<p>Shocky was brought in. The chill shook him now by fits only, for +a fever had spotted his cheeks already.</p> +<p>"Who are you?" said Miss Nancy, as she unwrapped him.</p> +<p>"I'm Shocky, a little boy as God forgot, and then thought of +again."</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII"></a>CHAPTER XXII.</h2> +<h3>PANCAKES.</h3> +<p>Half an hour later, Ralph, having seen Miss Nancy Sawyer's +machinery of warm baths and simple remedies safely in operation, +and having seen the roan colt comfortably stabled, and rewarded for +his faithfulness by a bountiful supply of the best hay and the +promise of oats when he was cool—half an hour later Ralph was +doing the most ample, satisfactory, and amazing justice to his Aunt +Matilda's hot buckwheat-cakes and warm coffee. And after his life +in Flat Creek, Aunt Matilda's house did look like paradise. How +white the table-cloth, how bright the coffee-pot, how clean the +wood-work, how glistening the brass door-knobs, how spotless +everything that came under the sovereign sway of Mrs. Matilda +White! For in every Indiana village as large as Lewisburg, there +are generally a half-dozen women who are admitted to be the best +housekeepers. All others are only imitators. And the strife is +between these for the pre-eminence. It is at least safe to say that +no other in Lewisburg stood so high as an enemy to dirt, and as a +"rat, roach, and mouse exterminator," as did Mrs. Matilda White, +the wife of Ralph's maternal uncle, Robert White, Esq., a lawyer in +successful practice. Of course no member of Mrs. White's family +ever stayed at home longer than was necessary. Her husband found +his office—which he kept in as bad a state as possible in +order to maintain an equilibrium in his life—much more +comfortable than the stiffly clean house at home. From the time +that Ralph had come to live as a chore-boy at his uncle's, he had +ever crossed the threshold of Aunt Matilda's temple of cleanliness +with a horrible sense of awe. And Walter Johnson, her son by a +former marriage, had—poor, weak-willed fellow!—been +driven into bad company and bad habits by the wretchedness of +extreme civilization. And yet he showed the hereditary trait, for +all the genius which Mrs. White consecrated to the glorious work of +making her house too neat to be habitable, her son Walter gave to +tying exquisite knots in his colored cravats and combing his oiled +locks so as to look like a dandy barber. And she had no other +children. The kind Providence that watches over the destiny of +children takes care that very few of them are lodged in these +terribly clean houses.</p> +<p>But Walter was not at the table, and Ralph had so much anxiety +lest his absence should be significant of evil, that he did not +venture to inquire after him as he sat there between Mr. and Mrs. +White disposing of Aunt Matilda's cakes with an appetite only +justified by his long morning's ride and the excellence of the +brown cakes, the golden honey, and the coffee, enriched, as Aunt +Matilda's always was, with the most generous cream. Aunt Matilda +was so absorbed in telling of the doings of the Dorcas Society that +she entirely forgot to be surprised at the early hour of Ralph's +arrival. When she had described the number of the garments finished +to be sent to the Five Points Mission, or the Home for the +Friendless, or the South Sea Islands, I forget which, Ralph thought +he saw his chance, while Aunt Matilda was in a benevolent mood, to +broach a plan he had been revolving for some time. But when he +looked at Aunt Matilda's immaculate—horribly +immaculate—housekeeping, his heart failed him, and he would +have said nothing had she not inadvertently opened the door +herself.</p> +<p>"How did you get here so early, Ralph?" and Aunt Matilda's face +was shadowed with a coming rebuke.</p> +<p>"By early rising," said Ralph. But, seeing the gathering frown +on his aunt's brow, he hastened to tell the story of Shocky as well +as he could. Mrs. White did not give way to any impulse toward +sympathy until she learned that Shocky was safely housed with Miss +Nancy Sawyer.</p> +<p>"Yes, Sister Sawyer has no family cares," she said by way of +smoothing her slightly ruffled complacency, "she has no family +cares, and she can do those things. Sometimes I think she lets +people impose on her and keep her away from the means of grace, and +I spoke to our new preacher about it the last time he was here, and +asked him to speak to Sister Sawyer about staying away from the +ordinances to wait on everybody, but he is a queer man, and he only +said that he supposed Sister Sawyer neglected the inferior +ordinances that she might attend to higher ones. But I don't see +any sense in a minister of the gospel calling prayer-meeting a +lower ordinance than feeding catnip-tea to Mrs. Brown's last baby. +But hasn't this little boy—Shocking, or what do you call +him?—got any mother?"</p> +<p>"Yes," said Ralph, "and that was just what I was going to say." +And he proceeded to tell how anxious Shocky was to see his +half-blind mother, and actually ventured to wind up his remarks by +suggesting that Shocky's mother be invited to stay over Sunday in +Aunt Matilda's house.</p> +<p>"Bless my stars!" said that astounded saint, "fetch a pauper +here? What crazy notions you have got! Fetch her here out of the +poor-house? Why, she wouldn't be fit to sleep in my—" here +Aunt Matilda choked. The bare thought of having a pauper in her +billowy beds, whose snowy whiteness was frightful to any ordinary +mortal, the bare thought of the contagion of the poor-house taking +possession of one of her beds, smothered her. "And then you know +sore eyes are very catching."</p> +<p>Ralph boiled a little. "Aunt Matilda, do you think Dorcas was +afraid of sore eyes?"</p> +<p>It was a center shot, and the lawyer-uncle, lawyerlike, enjoyed +a good hit. And he enjoyed a good hit at his wife best of all, for +he never ventured on one himself. But Aunt Matilda felt that a +direct reply was impossible. She was not a lawyer but a woman, and +so dodged the question by making a counter-charge.</p> +<p>"It seems to me, Ralph, that you have picked up some very low +associates. And you go around at night, I am told. You get over +here by daylight, and I hear that you have made common cause with a +lame soldier who acts as a spy for thieves, and that your running +about of night is likely to get you into trouble."</p> +<p>Ralph was hit this time. "I suppose," he said, "that you've been +listening to some of Henry Small's lies."</p> +<p>"Why, Ralph, how you talk! The worst sign of all is that you +abuse such a young man as Dr. Small, the most exemplary Christian +young man in the county. And he is a great friend of yours, for +when he was here last week he did not say a word against you, but +looked so sorry when your being in trouble was mentioned. Didn't +he, Mr. White?"</p> +<p>Mr. White, as in duty bound, said yes, but he said yes in a +cool, lawyerlike way, which showed that he did not take quite so +much stock in Dr. Small as his wife did. This was a comfort to +Ralph, who sat picturing to himself the silent flattery which Dr. +Small's eyes paid to his Aunt Matilda, and the quiet expression of +pain that would flit across his face when Ralph's name was +mentioned. And never until that moment had Hartsook understood how +masterful Small's artifices were. He had managed to elevate himself +in Mrs. White's estimation and to destroy Ralph at the same time, +and had managed to do both by a contraction of the eyebrows!</p> +<p>But the silence was growing painful and Ralph thought to break +it and turn the current of talk from himself by asking after Mrs. +White's son.</p> +<p>"Where is Walter?"</p> +<p>"Oh! Walter's doing well. He went down to Clifty three weeks ago +to study medicine with Henry Small. He seems so fond of the doctor, +and the doctor is such an excellent man, you know, and I have +strong hopes that Wallie will be led to see the error of his ways +by his association with Henry. I suppose he would have gone to see +you but for the unfavorable reports that he heard. I hope, Ralph, +you too will make the friendship of Dr. Small. And for the sake of +your poor, dead mother"—here Aunt Matilda endeavored to show +some emotion—"for the sake of your poor dead +mother—"</p> +<p>But Ralph heard no more. The buckwheat-cakes had lost their +flavor. He remembered that the colt had not yet had his oats, and +so, in the very midst of Aunt Matilda's affecting allusion to his +mother, like a stiff-necked reprobate that he was, Ralph Hartsook +rose abruptly from the table, put on his hat, and went out toward +the stable.</p> +<p>"I declare," said Mrs. White, descending suddenly from her high +moral stand-point, "I declare that boy has stepped right on the +threshold of the back-door," and she stuffed her white handkerchief +into her pocket, and took down the floor-cloth to wipe off the +imperceptible blemish left by Ralph's boot-heels. And Mr. White +followed his nephew to the stable to request that he would be a +little careful what he did about anybody in the poor-house, as any +trouble with the Joneses might defeat Mr. White's nomination to the +judgeship of the Court of Common Pleas.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII"></a>CHAPTER +XXIII.</h2> +<h3>A CHARITABLE INSTITUTION.</h3> +<p>When Ralph got back to Miss Nancy Sawyer's, Shocky was sitting +up in bed talking to Miss Nancy and Miss Semantha. His cheeks were +a little flushed with fever and the excitement of telling his +story; theirs were wet with tears. "Ralph," whispered Miss Nancy, +as she drew him into the kitchen, "I want you to get a buggy or a +sleigh, and go right over to the poor-house and fetch that boy's +mother over here. It'll do me more good than any sermon I ever +heard to see that boy in his mother's arms to-morrow. We can keep +the old lady over Sunday."</p> +<p>Ralph was delighted, so delighted that he came near kissing good +Miss Nancy Sawyer, whose plain face was glorified by her +generosity.</p> +<p>But he did not go to the poor-house immediately. He waited until +he saw Bill Jones, the Superintendent of the Poor-House, and Pete +Jones, the County Commissioner, who was still somewhat shuck up, +ride up to the court-house. Then he drove out of the village, and +presently hitched his horse to the poor-house fence, and took a +survey of the outside. Forty hogs, nearly ready for slaughter, +wallowed in a pen in front of the forlorn and dilapidated house; +for though the commissioners allowed a claim for repairs at every +meeting, the repairs were never made, and it would not do to +scrutinize Mr. Jones's bills too closely, unless you gave up all +hope of renomination to office. One curious effect of political +aspirations in Hoopole County, was to shut the eyes that they could +not see, to close the ears that they could not hear, and to destroy +the sense of smell. But Ralph, not being a politician, smelled the +hog-pen without and the stench within, and saw everywhere the +transparent fraud, and heard the echo of Jones's cruelty.</p> +<p>A weak-eyed girl admitted him, and as he did not wish to make +his business known at once, he affected a sort of idle interest in +the place, and asked to be allowed to look round. The weak-eyed +girl watched him. He found that all the women with children, twenty +persons in all, were obliged to sleep in one room, which, owing to +the hill-slope, was partly under ground, and which had but half a +window for light, and no ventilation, except the chance draft from +the door. Jones had declared that the women with children must stay +there—"he warn't goin' to have brats a-runnin' over the whole +house." Here were vicious women and good women, with their +children, crowded like chickens in a coop for market. And there +were, as usual in such places, helpless, idiotic women with +illegitimate children. Of course this room was the scene of +perpetual quarreling and occasional fighting.</p> +<p>In the quarters devoted to the insane, people slightly demented +and raving maniacs were in the same rooms, while there were also +those utter wrecks which sat in heaps on the floor, mumbling and +muttering unintelligible words, the whole current of their thoughts +hopelessly muddled, turning around upon itself in eddies never +ending.</p> +<p>"That air woman," said the weak-eyed girl, "used to holler a +heap when she was brought in here. But Pap knows how to subjue 'em. +He slapped her in the mouth every time she hollered. She don't make +no furss now, but jist sets down that way all day, and keeps +a-whisperin'."</p> +<p>Ralph understood it. When she came in she was the victim of +mania; but she had been beaten into hopeless idiocy. Indeed this +state of incurable imbecility seemed the end toward which all +traveled. Shut in these bare rooms, with no treatment, no exercise, +no variety, and meager food, cases of slight derangement soon grew +into chronic lunacy.</p> +<p>One young woman, called Phil, a sweet-faced person, apparently a +farmer's wife, came up to Ralph and looked at him kindly, playing +with the buttons on his coat in a childlike simplicity. Her +blue-drilling dress was sewed all over with patches of white, +representing ornamental buttons. The womanly instinct toward +adornment had in her taken this childish turn.</p> +<p>"Don't you think they ought to let me go home?" she said with a +sweetness and a wistful, longing, home-sick look, that touched +Ralph to the heart. He looked at her, and then at the muttering +crones, and he could see no hope of any better fate for her. She +followed him round the barn-like rooms, returning every now and +then to her question. "Don't you think I might go home now?"</p> +<p>The weak-eyed girl had been called away for a moment, and Ralph +stood looking into a cell, where there was a man with a gay red +plume in his hat and a strip of red flannel about his waist. He +strutted up and down like a drill-sergeant.</p> +<p>"I am General Andrew Jackson," he began. "People don't believe +it, but I am. I had my head shot off at Bueny Visty, and the new +one that growed on isn't nigh so good as the old one; it's tater on +one side<a name="FNanchor_24_24" id="FNanchor_24_24"></a><a href= +"#Footnote_24_24" class="fnanchor">[24]</a>. That's why they take +advantage of me to shut me up. But I know some things. My head is +tater on one side, but it's all right on t'other. And when I know a +thing in the left side of my head, I know it. Lean down here. Let +me tell you something out of the left side. Not out of the tater +side, mind ye. I wouldn't a told you if he hadn't locked me up fer +nothing. <i>Bill Jones is a thief</i>! He sells the bodies of the +dead paupers, and then sells the empty coffins back to the county +agin. But that a'n't all—"</p> +<p>Just then the weak-eyed girl came back, and, as Ralph moved +away, General Jackson called out: "That a'n't all. I'll tell the +rest another time. And that a'n't out of the tater side, you can +depend on that. That's out of the left side. Sound as a nut on that +side!"</p> +<p>But Ralph began to wonder where he should find Hannah's +mother.</p> +<p>"Don't go in there," cried the weak-eyed girl, as Ralph was +opening a door. "Ole Mowley's in there, and she'll cuss you."</p> +<p>"Oh! well, if that's all, her curses won't hurt," said Hartsook, +pushing open the door. But the volley of blasphemy and vile +language that he received made him stagger. The old hag paced the +floor, abusing everybody that came in her way. And by the window, +in the same room, feeling the light that struggled through the +dusty glass upon her face, sat a sorrowful, intelligent +Englishwoman. Ralph noticed at once that she was English, and in a +few moments he discovered that her sight was defective. Could it be +that Hannah's mother was the room-mate of this loathsome creature, +whose profanity and obscenity did not intermit for a moment?</p> +<p>Happily the weak-eyed girl had not dared to brave the curses of +Mowley. Ralph stepped forward to the woman by the window, and +greeted her.</p> +<p>"Is this Mrs. Thomson?"</p> +<p>"That is my name, sir," she said, turning her face toward Ralph, +who could not but remark the contrast between the thorough +refinement of her manner and her coarse, scant, unshaped +pauper-frock of blue drilling.</p> +<p>"I saw your daughter yesterday."</p> +<p>"Did you see my boy?"</p> +<p>There was a tremulousness in her voice and an agitation in her +manner which disclosed the emotion she strove in vain to conceal. +For only the day before Bill Jones had informed her that Shocky +would be bound out on Saturday, and that she would find that goin' +agin him warn't a payin' business, so much as some others he mout +mention.</p> +<p>Ralph told her about Shocky's safety. <i>I</i> shall not write +down the conversation here. Critics would say that it was an +overwrought scene. As if all the world were as cold as they! All I +can tell is that this refined woman had all she could do to control +herself in her eagerness to get out of her prison-house, away from +the blasphemies of Mowley, away from the insults of Jones, away +from the sights and sounds and smells of the place, and, above all, +her eagerness to fly to the little shocky-head from whom she had +been banished for two years. It seemed to her that she could gladly +die now, if she could die with that flaxen head upon her bosom.</p> +<p>And so, in spite of the opposition of Bill Jones's son, who +threatened her with every sort of evil if she left, Ralph wrapped +Mrs. Thomson's blue drilling in Nancy Sawyer's shawl, and bore the +feeble woman off to Lewisburg. And as they drove away, a sad, +childlike voice cried from the gratings of the upper window, +"Good-by! good-by!" Ralph turned and saw that it was Phil, poor +Phil, for whom there was no deliverance<a name="FNanchor_25_25" id= +"FNanchor_25_25"></a><a href="#Footnote_25_25" class= +"fnanchor">[25]</a>. And all the way back Ralph pronounced mental +maledictions on the Dorcas Society, not for sending garments to the +Five Points or the South Sea Islands, whichever it was, but for +being so blind to the sorrow and poverty within its reach. He did +not know, for he had not read the reports of the Boards of State +Charities, that nearly all alms-houses are very much like this, and +that the State of New York is not better in this regard than +Indiana. And he did not know that it is true in almost all other +counties, as it was in his own, that "Christian" people do not +think enough of Christ to look for him in these lazar-houses.</p> +<p>And while Ralph denounced the Dorcas Society, the eager, hungry +heart of the mother ran, flew toward the little white-headed +boy.</p> +<p>No, I can not do it; I can not tell you about that meeting. I am +sure that Miss Nancy Sawyer's tea tasted exceedingly good to the +pauper, who had known nothing but cold water for years, and that +the bread and butter were delicious to a palate that had eaten +poor-house soup for dinner, and coarse poor-house bread and vile +molasses for supper, and that without change for three years. But I +can not tell you how it seemed that evening to Miss Nancy Sawyer, +as the poor English lady sat in speechless ecstacy, rocking in the +old splint-bottomed rocking-chair in the fire-light, while she +pressed to her bosom with all the might of her enfeebled arms, the +form of the little Shocky, who half-sobbed and half-sang, over and +over again, "God ha'n't forgot us, mother; God ha'n't forgot +us."</p> +<div class="footnotes"> +<p class="center">FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"> +<p><a name="Footnote_24_24" id="Footnote_24_24"></a><a href= +"#FNanchor_24_24"><span class="label">[24]</span></a> Some time +after this book appeared Dr. Brown-Séquard announced his +theory of the dual brain. A writer in an English magazine called +attention to the fact that the discovery had been anticipated by an +imaginative writer, and cited the passage in the text as proving +that the author of "The Hoosier School-Master" had outrun Dr. +Brown-Séquard in perceiving the duality of the brain. It is +a matter for surprise that an author, even an "imaginative" one, +should have made so great a discovery without suspecting its +meaning until it was explained by some one else.</p> +</div> +<div class="footnote"> +<p><a name="Footnote_25_25" id="Footnote_25_25"></a><a href= +"#FNanchor_25_25"><span class="label">[25]</span></a> The reader +may be interested to know that "Phil" was drawn from the life, as +was old Mowley and in part "General Jackson" also. Between 1867 and +1870, I visited many jails and poor-houses with philanthropic +purpose, publishing the results of my examination in some cases in +<i>The Chicago Tribune</i>. Some of the abuses pointed out were +reformed, others linger till this day, I believe.</p> +</div> +</div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXIV.</h2> +<h3>THE GOOD SAMARITAN.</h3> +<p>The Methodist church to which Mrs. Matilda White and Miss Nancy +Sawyer belonged was the leading one in Lewisburg, as it was in most +county-seat villages in Indiana. If I may be permitted to express +my candid and charitable opinion of the difference between the two +women, I shall have to use the old Quaker locution, and say that +Miss Sawyer was a Methodist and likewise a Christian; Mrs. White +was a Methodist, but I fear she was not likewise.</p> +<p>As to the first part of this assertion, there was no room to +doubt Miss Nancy's piety. She could get happy in class-meeting (for +who had a better right?), and could witness a good experience in +the quarterly love-feast. But it is not upon these grounds that I +base my opinion of Miss Nancy. Do not even the Pharisees the same? +She never dreamed that she had any right to speak of "Christian +Perfection" (which, as Mrs. Partington said of total depravity, is +an excellent doctrine if it is lived up to); but when a woman's +heart is full of devout affections and good purposes, when her head +devises liberal and Christlike things, when her hands are always +open to the poor and always busy with acts of love and self-denial, +and when her feet are ever eager to run upon errands of mercy, why, +if there be anything worthy of being called Christian Perfection in +this world of imperfection, I do not know why such an one does not +possess it. What need of analyzing her experiences <i>in vacuo</i> +to find out the state of her soul?</p> +<p>How Miss Nancy managed to live on her slender income and be so +generous was a perpetual source of perplexity to the gossips of +Lewisburg. And now that she declared that Mrs. Thomson and Shocky +should not return to the poor-house there was a general outcry from +the whole Committee of Intermeddlers that she would bring herself +to the poor-house before she died. But Nancy Sawyer was the richest +woman in Lewisburg, though nobody knew it, and though she herself +did not once suspect it.</p> +<p>How Miss Nancy and the preacher conspired together, and how they +managed to bring Mrs. Thomson's case up at the time of the +"Sacramental Service" in the afternoon of that Sunday in Lewisburg, +and how the preacher made a touching statement of it just before +the regular "Collection for the Poor" was taken, and how the +warm-hearted Methodists put in dollars instead of dimes while the +Presiding Elder read those passages about Zaccheus and other +liberal people, and how the congregation sang</p> +<div class='blockquot'><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">"He dies, +the Friend of sinners dies"</span></div> +<p>more lustily than ever, after having performed this Christian +act—how all this happened I can not take up the reader's time +to tell. But I can assure him that the nearly blind English woman +did not room with blasphemous old Mowley any more, and that the +blue-drilling pauper frock gave way to something better, and that +grave little Shocky even danced with delight, and declared that God +hadn't forgot, though he'd thought that He had. And Mrs. Matilda +White remarked that it was a shame that the collection for the poor +at a Methodist sacramental service should be given to a woman who +was a member of the Church of England, and like as not never +soundly converted!</p> +<p>And Shocky slept in his mother's arms and prayed God not to +forget Hannah, while Shocky's mother knit stockings for the store +day and night, and day and night she prayed and hoped.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXV" id="CHAPTER_XXV"></a>CHAPTER XXV.</h2> +<h3>BUD WOOING.</h3> +<p>The Sunday that Ralph spent in Lewisburg, the Sunday that Shocky +spent in an earthly paradise, the Sunday that Mrs. Thomson spent +with Shocky instead of old Mowley, the Sunday that Miss Nancy +thought was "just like heaven," was also an eventful Sunday with +Bud Means. He had long adored Miss Martha in his secret heart, but, +like many other giants, while brave enough to face and fight +dragons, he was a coward in the presence of the woman that he +loved. Let us honor him for it. The man who loves a woman truly, +reverences her profoundly and feels abashed in her presence. The +man who is never abashed in the presence of womanhood, the man who +tells his love without a tremor, is a shallow egotist. Bud's nature +was not fine. But it was deep, true, and manly. To him Martha +Hawkins was the chief of women. What was he that he should aspire +to possess her? And yet on that Sunday, with his crippled arm +carefully bound up, with his cleanest shirt, and with his heavy +boots freshly oiled with the fat of the raccoon, he started +hopefully through fields white with snow to the house of Squire +Hawkins. When he started his spirits were high, but they descended +exactly in proportion to his proximity to the object of his love. +He thought himself not dressed well enough He wished his shoulders +were not so square, and his arms not so stout. He wished that he +had book-larnin' enough to court in nice, big words. And so, by +recounting his own deficiencies, he succeeded in making himself +feel weak, and awkward, and generally good-for-nothing, by the time +he walked up between the rows of dead hollyhocks to the Squire's +front door, to tap at which took all his remaining strength.</p> +<p>Miss Martha received her perspiring lover most graciously, but +this only convinced Bud more than ever that she was a superior +being. If she had slighted him a bit, so as to awaken his +combativeness, his bashfulness might have disappeared.</p> +<p>It was in vain that Martha inquired about his arm and +complimented his courage. Bud could only think of his big feet, his +clumsy hands, and his slow tongue. He answered in monosyllables, +using his red silk handkerchief diligently.</p> +<p>"Is your arm improving?" asked Miss Hawkins.</p> +<p>"Yes, I think it is," said Bud, hastily crossing his right leg +over his left, and trying to get his fists out of sight.</p> +<p>"Have you heard from Mr. Pearson?"</p> +<p>"No, I ha'n't," answered Bud, removing his right foot to the +floor again, because it looked so big, and trying to push his left +hand into his pocket.</p> +<p>"Beautiful sunshine, isn't it?" said Martha.</p> +<p>"Yes, 'tis," answered Bud, sticking his right foot up on the +rung of the chair and putting his right hand behind him.</p> +<p>"This snow looks like the snow we have at the East," said +Martha. "It snowed that way the time I was to Bosting."</p> +<p>"Did it?" said Bud, not thinking of the snow at all nor of +Boston, but thinking how much better he would have appeared had he +left his arms and legs at home.</p> +<p>"I suppose Mr. Hartsook rode your horse to Lewisburg?"</p> +<p>"Yes, he did;" and Bud hung both hands at his side.</p> +<p>"You were very kind."</p> +<p>This set Bud's heart a-going so that he could not say anything, +but he looked eloquently at Miss Hawkins, drew both feet under the +chair, and rammed his hands into his pockets. Then, suddenly +remembering how awkward he must look, he immediately pulled his +hands out again, and crossed his legs. There was a silence of a few +minutes, during which Bud made up his mind to do the most desperate +thing he could think of—to declare his love and take the +consequences.</p> +<p>"You see, Miss Hawkins," he began, forgetting boots and fists in +his agony, "I thought as how I'd come over here to-day, +and"—but here his heart failed him +utterly—"and—see—you."</p> +<p>"I'm glad to see you, Mr. Means."</p> +<p>"And I thought I'd tell you"—Martha was sure it was coming +now, for Bud was in dead earnest—"and I thought I'd just like +to tell you, ef I only know'd jest how to tell it right"—here +Bud got frightened, and did not dare close the sentence as he had +intended—"I thought as how you might like to know—or +ruther I wanted to tell you—that—the—that +I—that we—all of +us—think—that—I—that we are going to have a +spellin'-school a Chewsday night."</p> +<p>"I'm real glad to hear it," said the bland but disappointed +Martha. "We used to have spelling-schools at the East." But Miss +Martha could not remember that they had them "to Bosting."</p> +<p>Hard as it is for a bashful man to talk, it is still more +difficult for him to close the conversation. Most men like to leave +a favorable impression, and a bashful man is always waiting with +the forlorn hope that some favorable turn in the talk may let him +out without absolute discomfiture. And so Bud stayed a long time, +and how he ever did get away he never could tell.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVI" id="CHAPTER_XXVI"></a>CHAPTER XXVI.</h2> +<h3>A LETTER AND ITS CONSEQUENCES.</h3> +<p>"SQUAR HAUKINS</p> +<p>"this is too Lett u no that u beter be Keerful hoo yoo an yore +familly tacks cides with fer peepl wont Stan it too hev the Men +wat's sportin the wuns wat's robin us, sported bi yor Fokes kepin +kumpne with 'em, u been a ossifer ov the Lau, yor Ha wil bern as +qick as to an yor Barn tu, so Tak kere. No mor ad pressnt."</p> +<p>This letter accomplished its purpose. The Squire's spectacles +slipped off several times while he read it. His wig had to be +adjusted. If he had been threatened personally he would not have +minded it so much. But the hay stacks were dearer to him than the +apple of his glass eye. The barn was more precious than his wig. +And those who hoped to touch Bud in a tender place through this +letter knew the Squire's weakness far better than they knew the +spelling-book. To see his new red barn with its large "Mormon" +hay-press inside, and the mounted Indian on the vane, consumed, was +too much for the Hawkins heart to stand. Evidently the danger was +on the side of his niece. But how should he influence Martha to +give up Bud? Martha did not value the hay-stacks half so highly as +she did her lover. Martha did not think the new red barn, with the +great Mormon press inside and the galloping Indian on the vane, +worth half so much as a moral principle or a kind-hearted action. +Martha, bless her! would have sacrificed anything rather than +forsake the poor. But Squire Hawkins's lips shut tight over his +false teeth in a way that suggested astringent purse-strings, and +Squire Hawkins could not sleep at night if the new red barn, with +the galloping Indian on the vane, were in danger. Martha must be +reached somehow.</p> +<p>So, with many adjustings of that most adjustable wig? with many +turnings of that reversible glass eye? the Squire managed to +frighten Martha by the intimation that he had been threatened, and +to make her understand, what it cost her much to understand, that +she must turn the cold shoulder to chivalrous, awkward Bud, whom +she loved most tenderly, partly, perhaps, because he did not remind +her of anybody she had ever known at the East.</p> +<p>Tuesday evening was the fatal time. Spelling-school was the +fatal occasion. Bud was the victim. Pete Jones had his revenge. For +Bud had been all the evening trying to muster courage enough to +offer himself as Martha's escort. He was not encouraged by the fact +that he had spelled even worse than usual, while Martha had +distinguished herself by holding her ground against Jeems Phillips +for half an hour. But he screwed his courage to the sticking place, +not by quoting to himself the adage, "Faint heart never won fair +lady," which, indeed, he had never heard, but by reminding himself +that "ef you don't resk notin' you'll never git nothin'." So, when +the spelling-school had adjourned, he sidled up to her, and, +looking dreadfully solemn and a little foolish, he said:</p> +<p>"Kin I see you safe home?"</p> +<p>And she, with a feeling that her uncle's life was in danger, and +that his salvation depended upon her resolution—she, with a +feeling that she was pronouncing sentence of death on her own great +hope, answered huskily:</p> +<p>"No, I thank you."</p> +<p>If she had only known that it was the red barn with the Indian +on top that was in danger, she would probably have let the +galloping brave take care of himself.</p> +<p>It seemed to Bud, as he walked home mortified, disgraced, +disappointed, hopeless, that all the world had gone down in a +whirlpool of despair.</p> +<p>"Might a knowed it," he said to himself. "Of course, a smart gal +like Martha a'n't agoin' to take a big, blunderin' fool that can't +spell in two syllables. What's the use of tryin'? A Flat Cricker Is +a Flat Cricker. You can't make nothin' else of him, no more nor you +can make a Chiny hog into a Berkshire."</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVII" id="CHAPTER_XXVII"></a>CHAPTER +XXVII.</h2> +<h3>A LOSS AND A GAIN.</h3> +<p>Dr. Small, silent, attentive, assiduous Dr. Small, set himself +to work to bind up the wounded heart of Bud Means, even as he had +bound up his broken arm. The flattery of his fine eyes, which +looked at Bud's muscles so admiringly, which gave attention to his +lightest remark, was not lost on the young Flat Creek Hercules. +Outwardly at least Pete Jones showed no inclination to revenge +himself on Bud. Was it respect for muscle, or was it the influence +of Small? At any rate, the concentrated extract of the resentment +of Pete Jones and his clique was now ready to empty itself upon the +head of Hartsook. And Ralph found himself in his dire extremity +without even the support of Bud, whose good resolutions seemed to +give way all at once. There have been many men of culture and more +favorable surroundings who have thrown themselves away with less +provocation. As it was, Bud quit school, avoided Ralph, and seemed +more than ever under the influence of Dr. Small, besides becoming +the intimate of Walter Johnson, Small's student and Mrs. Matilda +White's son. They made a strange pair—Bud with his firm jaw +and silent, cautious manner, and Walter Johnson with his weak chin, +his nice neck-ties, and general dandy appearance.</p> +<p>To be thus deserted in his darkest hour by his only friend was +the bitterest ingredient in Ralph's cup. In vain he sought an +interview. Bud always eluded him. While by all the faces about him +Ralph learned that the storm was getting nearer and nearer to +himself. It might delay. If it had been Pete Jones alone, it might +blow over. But Ralph felt sure that the relentless hand of Dr. +Small was present in all his troubles. And he had only to look into +Small's eye to know how inextinguishable was a malignity that +burned so steadily and so quietly.</p> +<p>But there is no cup of unmixed bitterness. With an innocent man +there is no night so dark that some star does not shine. Ralph had +one strong sheet-anchor. On his return from Lewisburg on Monday Bud +had handed him a note, written on common blue foolscap, in round, +old-fashioned hand. It ran:</p> +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"Dear Sir: Anybody who can do so good a thing as you did for our +Shocky, can not be bad. I hope you will forgive me. All the +appearances in the world, and all that anybody says, can not make +me think you anything else but a good man. I hope God will reward +you. You must not answer this, and you hadn't better see me again, +or think any more of what you spoke about the other night. I shall +be a slave for three years more, and then I must work for my mother +and Shocky; but I felt so bad to think that I had spoken so hard to +you, that I could not help writing this. Respectfully,</p> +</div> +<div class='blockquot'><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">"HANNAH +THOMSON.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">"To MR. R. HARTSOOK, +ESQ."</span></div> +<p>Ralph read it over and over. What else he did with it I shall +not tell. You want to know whether he kissed it, and put it into +his bosom. Many a man as intelligent and manly as Hartsook has done +quite as foolish a thing as that. You have been a little silly +perhaps—if it is silly—and you have acted in a +sentimental sort of a way over such things. But it would never do +for me to tell you what Ralph did. Whether he put the letter into +his bosom or not, he put the words into his heart, and, +metaphorically speaking, he shook that little blue billet, written +on coarse foolscap paper—he shook that little letter full of +confidence, in the face and eyes of all the calamities that haunted +him. If Hannah believed in him, the whole world might distrust him. +When Hannah was in one scale and the whole world in the other, of +what account was the world? Justice may be blind, but all the +pictures of blind cupids in the world can not make Love blind. And +it was well that Ralph weighed things in this way. For the time was +come in which he needed all the courage the blue billet could give +him.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVIII" id="CHAPTER_XXVIII"></a>CHAPTER +XXVIII.</h2> +<h3>THE FLIGHT.</h3> +<p>About ten days after Ralph's return to Flat Creek things came to +a crisis.</p> +<p>The master was rather relieved at first to have the crisis come. +He had been holding juvenile Flat Creek under his feet by sheer +force of will. And such an exercise of "psychic power" is very +exhausting. In racing on the Ohio the engineer sometimes sends the +largest of the firemen to hold the safety valve down, and this he +does by hanging himself to the lever by his hands. Ralph felt that +he had been holding the safety-valve down, and that he was so weary +of the operation that an explosion would be a real relief. He was a +little tired of having everybody look on him as a thief. It was a +little irksome to know that new bolts were put on the doors of the +houses in which he had staid. And now that Shocky was gone, and Bud +had turned against him, and Aunt Matilda suspected him, and even +poor, weak, exquisite Walter Johnson would not associate with him, +he felt himself an outlaw indeed. He would have gone away to Texas +or the new gold fields in California had It not been for one thing. +That letter on blue foolscap paper kept a little warmth in his +heart.</p> +<p>His course from school on the evening that something happened +lay through the sugar-camp. Among the dark trunks of the maples, +solemn and lofty pillars, he debated the case. To stay, or to flee? +The worn nerves could not keep their present tension much +longer.</p> +<p>It was just by the brook, or, as they say in Indiana, the +"branch<a name="FNanchor_26_26" id="FNanchor_26_26"></a><a href= +"#Footnote_26_26" class="fnanchor">[26]</a>," that something +happened which brought him to a sudden decision. Ralph never +afterward could forget that brook. It was a swift-running little +stream, that did not babble blatantly over the stones. It ran +through a thicket of willows, through the sugar-camp, and out into +Means's pasture. Ralph had just passed through the thicket, had +just crossed the brook on the half-decayed log that spanned it, +when, as he emerged from the water-willows on the other side, he +started with a sudden shock. For there was Hannah, with a white, +white face, holding out a little note folded like an old-fashioned +thumb-paper.</p> +<p>"Go quick!" she stammered as she slipped it Into Ralph's hand, +inadvertently touching his fingers with her own—a touch that +went tingling through the school-master's nerves. But she had +hardly said the words until she was gone down the brookside path +and over into the pasture. A few minutes afterward she drove the +cows up into the lot and meekly took her scolding from Mrs. Means +for being gone sech an awful long time, like a lazy, +good-fer-nothin piece of goods that she was.</p> +<p>Ralph opened the thumb-paper note, written on a page torn +from an old copy-book, in Bud's "hand-write" and running:</p> +<div class='blockquot'><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">"Mr. +Heartsook</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">"deer Sur:</span></div> +<p>"I Put in my best licks, taint no use. Run fer yore life. A +plans on foot to tar an fether or wuss to-night. Go rite off. +Things is awful juberous<a name="FNanchor_27_27" id= +"FNanchor_27_27"></a><a href="#Footnote_27_27" class= +"fnanchor">[27]</a>.</p> +<div class='blockquot'><span style= +"margin-left: 2.5em;">"BUD."</span></div> +<p>The first question with Ralph was whether he could depend on +Bud. But he soon made up his mind that treachery of any sort was +not one of his traits. He had mourned over the destruction of Bud's +good resolutions by Martha Hawkins' refusal, and being a +disinterested party he could have comforted Bud by explaining +Martha's "mitten." But he felt sure that Bud was not treacherous. +It was a relief, then, as he stood there to know that the false +truce was over, and worst had come to worst.</p> +<p>His first impulse was to stay and fight. But his nerves were not +strong enough to execute so foolhardy a resolution. He seemed to +see a man behind every maple-trunk. Darkness was fast coming on, +and he knew that his absence from supper at his boarding-place +could not fail to excite suspicion. There was no time to be lost. +So he started.</p> +<p>Once run from a danger, and panic is apt to ensue. The forest; +the stalk-fields, the dark hollows through which he passed, seemed +to be peopled with terrors. He knew Small and Jones well enough to +know that every avenue of escape would be carefully picketed. So +there was nothing to do but to take the shortest path to the old +trysting place, the Spring-in-rock.</p> +<p>Here he sat and shook with terror. Angry with himself, he inly +denounced himself for a coward. But the effect was really a +physical one. The chill and panic now were the reaction from the +previous strain.</p> +<p>For when the sound of his pursuers' voices broke upon his ears +early in the evening, Ralph shook no more; the warm blood set back +again toward the extremities, and his self-control returned when he +needed it. He gathered some stones about him, as the only weapons +of defense at hand. The mob was on the cliff above. But he thought +that he heard footsteps in the bed of the creek below. If this were +so, there could be no doubt that his hiding-place was +suspected.</p> +<p>"O Hank!" shouted Bud from the top of the cliff to some one in +the creek below, "be sure to look at the Spring-in-rock—I +think he's there."</p> +<p>This hint was not lost on Ralph, who speedily changed his +quarters by climbing up to a secluded, shelf-like ledge above the +spring. He was none too soon, for Pete Jones and Hank Banta were +soon looking all around the spring for him, while he held a +twenty-pound stone over their heads ready to drop upon them in case +they should think of looking on the ledge above.</p> +<p>When the crowd were gone Ralph knew that one road was open to +him. He could follow down the creek to Clifty, and thence he might +escape. But, traveling down to Clifty, he debated whether it was +best to escape. To flee was to confess his guilt, to make himself +an outlaw, to put an insurmountable barrier between himself and +Hannah, whose terror-stricken and anxious face as she stood by the +brook-willows haunted him now, and was an involuntary witness to +her love.</p> +<p>Long before he reached Clifty his mind was made up not to flee +another mile. He knocked at the door of Squire Underwood. But +Squire Underwood was also a doctor, and had been called away. He +knocked at the door of Squire Doolittle. But Squire Doolittle had +gone to Lewisburg. He was about to give up all hope of being able +to surrender himself to the law when he met Squire Hawkins, who had +come over to Clifty to avoid responsibility for the ill-deeds of +his neighbors which he was powerless to prevent.</p> +<p>"Is that you, Mr. Hartsook?"</p> +<p>"Yes, and I want you to arrest me and try me here in +Clifty."</p> +<div class="footnotes"> +<p class="center">FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"> +<p><a name="Footnote_26_26" id="Footnote_26_26"></a><a href= +"#FNanchor_26_26"><span class="label">[26]</span></a> I have +already mentioned the absence of <i>pail</i> and <i>pare</i> from +the ancient Hoosier folk-speech. <i>Brook</i> is likewise absent. +The illiterate Indiana countryman before the Civil War, let us say, +had no pails, pared no apples, husked no corn, crossed no brooks. +The same is true, I believe, of the South generally. As the first +settlers on the Southern coast entered the land by the rivers, each +smaller stream was regarded as a branch of the larger one. A small +stream was therefore called a <i>branch</i>. The word brook was +probably lost in the first generation. But a small stream is often +called a <i>run</i> in the Middle and Southern belt. Halliwell +gives <i>rundel</i> as used with the same signification in England, +and he gives <i>ryn</i> in the same sense from an old +manuscript.</p> +</div> +<div class="footnote"> +<p><a name="Footnote_27_27" id="Footnote_27_27"></a><a href= +"#FNanchor_27_27"><span class="label">[27]</span></a> +<i>Juberous</i> is in none of the vocabularies that I have seen. I +once treated this word in print as an undoubted corruption of +<i>dubious</i>, and when used subjectively it apparently feels the +influence of dubious, as where one says: "I feel mighty juberous +about it." But it is much oftener applied as in the text to the +object of fear, as "The bridge looks kind o' juberous." Halliwell +gives the verb <i>juberd</i> and defines it as "to jeopard or +endanger." It is clearly a dialect form of <i>jeopard</i>, and I +make no doubt that <i>juberous</i> is a dialect variation of +<i>jeopardous</i>, occasionally used as a form of +<i>dubious</i>.</p> +</div> +</div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIX" id="CHAPTER_XXIX"></a>CHAPTER XXIX.</h2> +<h3>THE TRIAL.</h3> +<p>The "prosecuting attorney" (for so the State's attorney is +called in Indiana) had been sent for the night before. Ralph +refused all legal help. It was not wise to reject counsel, but all +his blood was up, and he declared that he would not be cleared by +legal quibbles. If his innocence were not made evident to +everybody, he would rather not be acquitted on a preliminary +examination. He would go over to the circuit court and have the +matter sifted to the bottom. But he would have been pleased had his +uncle offered his counsel, though he would have declined it. He +would have felt better to have had a letter from home somewhat +different from the one he received from his Aunt Matilda by the +hand of the prosecuting attorney. It was not very encouraging or +very sympathetic, though it was very characteristic.</p> +<p>"Dear Ralph:</p> +<p>"This is what I have always been afraid of. I warned you +faithfully the last time I saw you. My skirts are clear of your +blood, I can not consent for your uncle to appear as your counsel +or to go your bail. You know how much it would injure him in the +county, and he has no right to suffer for your evil acts. O my dear +nephew! for the sake of your poor, dead mother—"</p> +<p>We never shall know what the rest of that letter was. Whenever +Aunt Matilda got to Ralph's poor, dead mother in her conversation +Ralph ran out of the house. And now that his poor, dead mother was +again made to do service in his aunt's pious rhetoric, he landed +the letter on the hot coals before him, and watched it vanish into +smoke with a grim satisfaction.</p> +<p>Ralph was a little afraid of a mob. But Clifty was better than +Flat Creek, and Squire Hawkins, with all his faults, loved justice, +and had a profound respect for the majesty of the law, and a +profound respect for his own majesty when sitting as a court +representing the law. Whatever maneuvers he might resort to in +business affairs in order to avoid a conflict with his lawless +neighbors, he was courageous and inflexible on the bench. The +Squire was the better part of him. With the co-operation of the +constable, he had organized a <i>posse</i> of men who could be +depended on to enforce the law against a mob.</p> +<p>By the time the trial opened in the large school-house in Clifty +at eleven o'clock, all the surrounding country had emptied its +population into Clifty, and all Flat Creek was on hand ready to +testify to something. Those who knew the least appeared to know the +most, and were prodigal of their significant winks and nods. Mrs. +Means had always suspected him. She seed some mighty suspicious +things about him from the word go. She'd allers had her doubts +whether he was jist the thing, and ef her ole man had axed her, +liker-n not he never'd a been hired. She'd seed things with her own +livin' eyes that beat all she ever seed in all her born days. And +Pete Jones said he'd allers knowed ther warn't no good in sech a +feller. Couldn't stay abed when he got there. And Granny Sanders +said, Law's sakes! nobody'd ever a found him out ef it hadn't been +fer her. Didn't she go all over the neighborhood a-warnin' people? +Fer her part, she seed straight through that piece of goods. He was +fond of the gals, too! Nothing was so great a crime in her eyes as +to be fond of the gals.</p> +<p>The constable paid unwitting tribute to William the Conquerer by +crying Squire Hawkins' court open with an Oyez! or, as he said, "O +yes!" and the Squire asked Squire Underwood, who came in at that +minute, to sit with him. From the start, it was evident to Ralph +that the prosecuting attorney had been thoroughly posted by Small, +though, looking at that worthy's face, one would have thought him +the most disinterested and philosophical spectator in the +court-room.</p> +<p>Bronson, the prosecutor, was a young man, and this was his first +case since his election. He was very ambitious to distinguish +himself, very anxious to have Flat Creek influence on his side in +politics; and, consequently, he was very determined to send Ralph +Hartsook to State prison, justly or unjustly, by fair means or +foul. To his professional eyes this was not a question of right and +wrong, not a question of life or death to such a man as Ralph. It +was George H. Bronson's opportunity to distinguish himself. And so, +with many knowing and confident nods and hints, and with much +deference to the two squires, he opened the case, affecting great +indignation at Ralph's wickedness, and uttering Delphic hints about +striped pants and shaven head, and the grating of prison-doors at +Jeffersonville.</p> +<p>"And, now, if the court please, I am about to call a witness +whose testimony is very important indeed. Mrs. Sarah Jane Means +will please step forward and be sworn."</p> +<p>This Mrs. Means did with alacrity. She had met the prosecutor, +and impressed him with her dark hints. She was sworn.</p> +<p>"Now, Mrs. Means, have the goodness to tell us what you know of +the robbery at the house of Peter Schroeder, and the part defendant +had in it."</p> +<p>"Well, you see, I allers suspected that air young +man—"</p> +<p>Here Squire Underwood stopped her, and told her that she must +not tell her suspicions, but facts.</p> +<p>"Well, it's facts I am a-going to tell," she sniffed +indignantly. "It's facts that I mean to tell." Here her voice rose +to a keen pitch, and she began to abuse the defendant. Again and +again the court insisted that she must tell what there was +suspicious about the school-master. At last she got it out.</p> +<p>"Well, fer one thing, what kind of gals did he go with? Hey? +Why, with my bound gal, Hanner, a-loafin' along through the +blue-grass paster at ten o'clock, and keepin' that gal that's got +no protector but me out that a-way, and destroyin' her character by +his company, that a'n't fit fer nobody."</p> +<p>Here Bronson saw that he had caught a tartar. He said he had no +more questions to ask of Mrs. Means, and that, unless the defendant +wished to cross-question her, she could stand aside. Ralph said he +would like to ask her one question.</p> +<p>"Did I ever go with your daughter Miranda?"</p> +<p>"No, you didn't," answered the witness, with a tone and a toss +of the head that let the cat out, and set the court-room in a +giggle. Bronson saw that he was gaining nothing, and now resolved +to follow the line which Small had indicated.</p> +<p>Pete Jones was called, and swore point-blank that he heard Ralph +go out of the house soon after he went to bed, and that he heard +him return at two in the morning. This testimony was given without +hesitation, and made a great impression against Ralph in the minds +of the justices. Mrs. Jones, a poor, brow-beaten woman, came on the +stand in a frightened way, and swore to the same lies as her +husband. Ralph cross-questioned her, but her part had been well +learned.</p> +<p>There, seemed now little hope for Ralph. But just at this moment +who should stride into the school-house but Pearson, the one-legged +old soldier basket-maker? He had crept home the night before, "to +see ef the ole woman didn't want somethin'," and hearing of Ralph's +arrest, he concluded that the time for him to make "a forrard +movement" had come, and so he determined to face the foe.</p> +<p>"Looky here, Squar," he said, wiping the perspiration from his +brow, "looky here. I jes want to say that I kin tell as much about +this case as anybody."</p> +<p>"Let us hear it, then," said Bronson, who thought he would nail +Ralph now for certain.</p> +<p>So, with many allusions to the time he fit at Lundy's Lane, and +some indignant remarks about the pack of thieves that driv him off, +and a passing tribute to Miss Martha Hawkins, and sundry other +digressions, in which he had to be checked, the old man told how +he'd drunk whisky at Welch's store that night, and how Welch's +whisky was all-fired mean, and how it allers went straight to his +head, and how he had got a leetle too much, and how he had felt +kyinder gin aout by the time he got to the blacksmith's shop, and +how he had laid down to rest, and how as he s'posed the boys had +crated him, and how he thought it war all-fired mean to crate a old +soldier what fit the Britishers, and lost his leg by one of the +blamed critters a-punchin' his bagonet<a name="FNanchor_28_28" id= +"FNanchor_28_28"></a><a href="#Footnote_28_28" class= +"fnanchor">[28]</a> through it; and how when he woke up it was +all-fired cold, and how he rolled off the crate and went on +to<i>wurds</i> home, and how when he got up to the top of Means's +hill he met Pete Jones and Bill Jones, and a slim sort of a young +man, a-ridin'; and how he know'd the Joneses by ther hosses, and +some more things of that kyind about 'em; but he didn't know the +slim young man, tho' he tho't he might tell him ef he seed him agin +kase he was dressed up so slick and town-like. But blamed ef he +didn't think it hard that a passel o thieves sech as the Joneses +should try to put ther mean things on to a man like the master, +that was so kyind to him and to Shocky, tho', fer that matter, +blamed ef he didn't think we was all selfish, akordin' to his tell. +Had seed somebody that night a-crossin' over the blue-grass paster. +Didn't know who in thunder 'twas, but it was somebody a-makin' +straight fer Pete Jones's. Hadn't seed nobody else, 'ceptin' Dr. +Small, a short ways behind the Joneses.</p> +<p>Hannah was now brought on the stand. She was greatly agitated, +and answered with much reluctance. Lived at Mr. Means's. Was +eighteen years of age in October. Had been bound to Mrs. Means +three years ago. Had walked home with Mr. Hartsook that evening, +and, happening to look out of the window toward morning, she saw +some one cross the pasture. Did not know who it was. Thought it was +Mr. Hartsook. Here Mr. Bronson (evidently prompted by a suggestion +that came from what Small had overheard when he listened in the +barn) asked her if Mr. Hartsook had ever said anything to her about +the matter afterward. After some hesitation, Hannah said that he +had said that he crossed the pasture. Of his own accord? No, she +spoke of it first. Had Mr. Hartsook offered any explanations? No, +he hadn't. Had he ever paid her any attention afterward? No. Ralph +declined to cross-question Hannah. To him she never seemed so fair +as when telling the truth so sublimely.</p> +<p>Bronson now informed the court that this little trick of having +the old soldier happen in, in the flick of time, wouldn't save the +prisoner at the bar from the just punishment which an outraged law +visited upon such crimes as his. He regretted that his duty as a +public prosecutor caused it to fall to his lot to marshal the +evidence that was to blight the prospects and blast the character, +and annihilate for ever, so able and promising a young man, but +that the law knew no difference between the educated and the +uneducated, and that for his part he thought Hartsook a most +dangerous foe to the peace of society. The evidence already given +fastened suspicion upon him. The prisoner had not yet been able to +break its force at all. The prisoner had not even dared to try to +explain to a young lady the reason for his being out at night. He +would now conclude by giving the last touch to the dark evidence +that would sink the once fair name of Ralph Hartsook in a hundred +fathoms of infamy. He would ask that Henry Banta be called.</p> +<p>Hank came forward sheepishly, and was sworn. Lived about a +hundred yards from the house that was robbed. He seen ole man +Pearson and the master and one other feller that he didn't know +come away from there together about one o'clock. He heerd the +horses kickin', and went out to the stable to see about them. He +seed two men come out of Schroeder's back door and meet one man +standing at the gate. When they got closter he knowed Pearson by +his wooden leg and the master by his hat. On cross-examination he +was a little confused when asked why he hadn't told of it before, +but said that he was afraid to say much, bekase the folks was +a-talkin' about hanging the master, and he didn't want no +lynchin'.</p> +<p>The prosecution here rested, Bronson maintaining that there was +enough evidence to justify Ralph's committal to await trial. But +the court thought that as the defendant had no counsel and offered +no rebutting testimony, it would be only fair to hear what the +prisoner had to say in his own defense.</p> +<p>All this while poor Ralph was looking about the room for Bud. +Bud's actions had of late been strangely contradictory. But had he +turned coward and deserted his friend? Why else did he avoid the +session of the court? After asking himself such questions as these, +Ralph would wonder at his own folly. What could Bud do if he were +there? There was no human power that could prevent the victim of so +vile a conspiracy as this, lodging in that worst of State prisons +at Jeffersonville, a place too bad for criminals. But when there is +no human power to help, how naturally does the human mind look for +some divine intervention on the side of Right! And Ralph's faith in +Providence looked in the direction of Bud. But since no Bud came, +he shut down the valves and rose to his feet, proudly, defiantly, +fiercely calm.</p> +<p>"It's of no use for me to say anything. Peter Jones has sworn to +a deliberate falsehood, and he knows it. He has made his wife +perjure her poor soul that she dare not call her own." Here Pete's +fists clenched, but Ralph in his present humor did not care for +mobs. The spirit of the bulldog had complete possession of him. "It +is of no use for me to tell you that Henry Banta has sworn to a +lie, partly to revenge himself on me for punishments I have given +him, and partly, perhaps, for money. The real thieves are in this +court-room. I could put my finger on them."</p> +<p>"<i>To</i> be sure," responded the old basket-maker. Ralph +looked at Pete Jones, then at Small. The fiercely calm look +attracted the attention of the people. He knew that this look would +probably cost him his life before the next morning. But he did not +care for life. "The testimony of Miss Hannah Thomson is every word +true, I believe that of Mr. Pearson to be true. The rest is false. +But I can not prove it. I know the men I have to deal with. I shall +not escape with State prison. They will not spare my life. But the +people of Clifty will one day find out who are the thieves." Ralph +then proceeded to tell how he had left Pete Jones's, Mr. Jones's +bed being uncomfortable; how he had walked through the pasture; how +he had seen three men on horseback: how he had noticed the sorrel +with the white left forefoot and white nose; how he had seen Dr. +Small; how, after his return, he had heard some one enter the +house, and how he had recognized the horse the next morning. +"There," said Ralph desperately, leveling his finger at Pete, +"there is a man who will yet see the inside of a penitentiary, I +shall not live to see it, but the rest of you will." Pete quailed. +Ralph's speech could not of course break the force of the testimony +against him. But it had its effect, and it had effect enough to +alarm Bronson, who rose and said:</p> +<p>"I should like to ask the prisoner at the bar one question."</p> +<p>"Ask me a dozen," said Hartsook, looking more like a king than a +criminal.</p> +<p>"Well, then, Mr. Hartsook. You need not answer unless you +choose; but what prompted you to take the direction you did in your +walk on that evening?"</p> +<p>This shot brought Ralph down. To answer this question truly +would attach to friendless Hannah Thomson some of the disgrace that +now belonged to him.</p> +<p>"I decline to answer," said Ralph.</p> +<p>"Of course, I do not want the prisoner to criminate himself," +said Bronson significantly.</p> +<p>During this last passage Bud had come in, but, to Ralph's +disappointment he remained near the door, talking to Walter +Johnson, who had come with him. The magistrates put their heads +together to fix the amount of bail, and, as they differed, talked +for some minutes. Small now for the first time thought best to make +a move in his own proper person. He could hardly have been afraid +of Ralph's acquittal. He may have been a little anxious at the +manner in which he had been mentioned, and at the significant look +of Ralph, and he probably meant to excite indignation enough +against the school-master to break the force of his speech, and +secure the lynching of the prisoner, chiefly by people outside his +gang. He rose and asked the court in gentlest tones to hear him. He +had no personal interest in this trial, except his interest in the +welfare of his old schoolmate, Mr. Hartsook. He was grieved and +disappointed to find the evidence against him so damaging and he +would not for the world add a feather to it, if it were not that +his own name had been twice alluded to by the defendant, and by his +friend, and perhaps his confederate, John Pearson. He was prepared +to swear that he was not over in Flat Creek the night of the +robbery later than ten o'clock, and while the statements of the two +persons alluded to, whether maliciously intended or not, could not +implicate him at all, he thought perhaps this lack of veracity in +their statements might be of weight in determining some other +points. He therefore suggested—he could only suggest, as he +was not a party to the case in any way—that his student, Mr. +Walter Johnson, be called to testify as to his—Dr. +Small's—exact whereabouts on the night in question. They were +together in his office until two, when he went to the tavern and +went to bed.</p> +<p>Squire Hawkins, having adjusted his teeth, his wig, and his +glass eye, thanked Dr. Small for a suggestion so valuable, and +thought best to put John Pearson under arrest before proceeding +further. Mr. Pearson was therefore arrested, and was heard to +mutter something about a "passel of thieves," when the court warned +him to be quiet.</p> +<p>Walter Johnson was then called. But before giving his testimony, +I must crave the reader's patience while I go back to some things +which happened nearly a week before and which will serve to make it +intelligible.</p> +<div class="footnotes"> +<p class="center">FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"> +<p><a name="Footnote_28_28" id="Footnote_28_28"></a><a href= +"#FNanchor_28_28"><span class="label">[28]</span></a> This form, +<i>bagonet</i>, is not in the vocabularies, but it was spoken as I +have written it. The Century Dictionary gives <i>bagnet</i>, and +Halliwell and Wright both give <i>baginet</i> with the <i>g</i> +soft apparently, though neither the one nor the other is very +explicit in distinguishing transcriptions from old authors from +phonetic spellings of dialect forms. I fancy that this +<i>bagonet</i> is impossible as a corruption of <i>bayonet</i>, and +that it points to some other derivation of that word than the +doubtful one from <i>Bayonne</i>.</p> +</div> +</div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXX" id="CHAPTER_XXX"></a>CHAPTER XXX.</h2> +<h3>"BROTHER SODOM."</h3> +<p>In order to explain Walter Johnson's testimony and his state of +mind, I must carry the reader back nearly a week. The scene was Dr. +Small's office. Bud and Walter Johnson had been having some +confidential conversation that evening, and Bud had got more out of +his companion than that exquisite but weak young man had intended. +He looked round in a frightened way.</p> +<p>"You see," said Walter, "if Small knew I had told you that, I'd +get a bullet some night from somebody. But when you're initiated +it'll be all right. Sometimes I wish I was out of it. But, you +know, Small's this kind of a man. He sees through you. He can look +through a door"—and there he shivered, and his voice broke +down into a whisper. But Bud was perfectly cool, and doubtless it +was the strong coolness of Bud that made Walter, who shuddered at a +shadow, come to him for sympathy and unbosom himself of one of his +guilty secrets.</p> +<p>"Let's go and hear Brother Sodom preach to-night," said Bud.</p> +<p>"No, I don't like to."</p> +<p>"He don't scare you?" There was just a touch of ridicule in +Bud's voice. He knew Walter, and he had not counted amiss when he +used this little goad to prick a skin so sensitive. "Brother Sodom" +was the nickname given by scoffers to the preacher—Mr. +Soden—whose manner of preaching had so aroused Bud's +combativeness, and whose saddle-stirrups Bud had helped to +amputate. For reasons of his own, Bud thought best to subject young +Johnson to the heat of Mr. Soden's furnace.</p> +<p>Peter Cartwright boasts that, on a certain occasion, he "shook +his brimstone wallet" over the people. Mr. Soden could never preach +without his brimstone wallet. There are those of refinement so +attenuated that they will not admit that fear can have any place in +religion. But a religion without fear could never have evangelized +or civilized the West, which at one time bade fair to become a +perdition as bad as any that Brother Sodom ever depicted. And +against these on the one side, and the Brother Sodoms on the other, +I shall interrupt my story to put this chapter under shelter of +that wise remark of the great Dr. Adam Clark, who says "The fear of +God is the beginning of wisdom, the terror of God confounds the +soul;" and that other saying of his: "With the <i>fear</i> of God +the love of God is ever consistent; but where the <i>terror</i> of +the Lord reigns, there can neither be <i>fear, faith</i>, nor +<i>love</i>; nay, nor <i>hope</i> either." And yet I am not sure +that even the Brother Sodoms were made in vain.</p> +<p>On this evening Mr. Soden was as terrible as usual. Bud heard +him without flinching. Small, who sat farther forward, listened +with pious approval. Mr. Soden, out of distorted figures pieced +together from different passages of Scripture, built a hell, not +quite, Miltonic, nor yet Dantean, but as Miltonic and Dantean as +his unrefined imagination could make it. As he rose toward his +climax of hideous description, Walter Johnson trembled from head to +foot and sat close to Bud. Then, as burly Mr. Soden, with great +gusto, depicted materialistic tortures that startled the nerves of +everybody except Bud, Walter wanted to leave, but Bud would not let +him. For some reason he wished to keep his companion in the +crucible as long as possible.</p> +<p>"Young man!" cried Mr. Soden, and the explosive voice seemed to +come from the hell that he had created—"young man! you who +have followed the counsel of evil companions"—here he paused +and looked about, as if trying to find the man he wanted, while +Walter crept up close to Bud and shaded his face—"I mean you +who have chosen evil pursuits and who can not get free from bad +habits and associations that are dragging you down to hell! You are +standing on the very crumbling brink of hell to-night. The smell of +the brimstone is on your garments; the hot breath of hell is in +your face! The devils are waiting for you! Delay and you are +damned! You may die before daylight! You may never get out that +door! The awful angel of death is just ready to strike you down!" +Here some shrieked with terror, others sobbed, and Brother Sodom +looked with approval on the storm he had awakened. The very +harshness of his tone, his lofty egotism of manner, that which had +roused all Bud's combativeness, shook poor Walter as a wind would +shake a reed. In the midst of the general excitement he seized his +hat and hastened out the door. Bud followed, while Soden shot his +lightnings after them, declaring that "young men who ran away from +the truth would dwell in torments forever."</p> +<p>Bud had not counted amiss when he thought that Mr. Soden's +preaching would be likely to arouse so mean-spirited a fellow as +Walter. So vivid was the impression that Johnson begged Bud to +return to the office with him. He felt sick, and was afraid that he +should die before morning. He insisted that Bud should stay with +him all night. To this Means readily consented, and by morning he +had heard all that the frightened Walter had to tell.</p> +<p>And now let us return to the trial, where Ralph sits waiting the +testimony of Walter Johnson, which is to prove his statement +false.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXI" id="CHAPTER_XXXI"></a>CHAPTER XXXI.</h2> +<h3>THE TRIAL CONCLUDED.</h3> +<p>I do not know how much interest the "gentle reader" may feel in +Bud. But I venture to hope that there are some Buddhists among my +readers who will wish the contradictoriness of his actions +explained. The first dash of disappointment had well-nigh upset +him. And when a man concludes to throw overboard his good +resolutions, he always seeks to avoid the witness of those +resolutions. Hence Bud, after that distressful Tuesday evening on +which Miss Martha had given him "the sack," wished to see Ralph +less than any one else. And yet when he came to suspect Small's +villainy, his whole nature revolted at it. But having broken with +Ralph, he thought it best to maintain an attitude of apparent +hostility, that he might act as a detective, and, perhaps, save his +friend from the mischief that threatened him. As soon as he heard +of Ralph's arrest he determined to make Walter Johnson tell his own +secret in court, because he knew that it would be best for Ralph +that Walter should tell it. Bud's telling at second-hand would not +be conclusive. And he sincerely desired to save Walter from prison. +For Walter Johnson was the victim of Dr. Small, or of Dr. Small and +such novels as "The Pirate's Bride," "Claude Duval," "The Wild +Rover of the West Indies," and the cheap biographies of such men as +Murrell. Small found him with his imagination inflamed by the +history of such heroes, and opened to him the path to glory for +which he longed.</p> +<p>The whole morning after Ralph's arrest Bud was working on +Walter's conscience and his fears. The poor fellow, unable to act +for himself, was torn asunder between the old ascendency of Small +and the new ascendency of Bud Means. Bud finally frightened him, by +the fear of the penitentiary, into going to the place of trial. But +once inside the door, and once in sight of Small, who was more to +him than God, or, rather, more to him than the devil—for the +devil was Walter's God, or, perhaps, I should say, Walter's God was +a devil—once in sight of Small, he refused to move an inch +farther. And Bud, after all his perseverance, was about to give up +in sheer despair.</p> +<p>Fortunately, just at that moment Small's desire to relieve +himself from the taint of suspicion and to crush Ralph as +completely as possible, made him overshoot the mark by asking that +Walter be called to the stand, as we have before recounted. He knew +that he had no tool so supple as the cowardly Walter. In the very +language of the request, he had given Walter an intimation of what +he wanted him to swear to. Walter listened to Small's words as to +his doom. He felt that he should die of indecision. The perdition +of a man of his stamp is to have to make up his mind. Such men +generally fall back on some one more positive, and take all their +resolutions ready-made. But here Walter must decide for himself. +For the constable was already calling his name; the court, the +spectators, and, most of all, Dr. Small, were waiting for him. He +moved forward mechanically through the dense crowd, Bud following +part of the way to whisper, "Tell the truth or go to penitentiary." +Walter shook and shivered at this. The witness with difficulty held +up his hand long enough to be sworn.</p> +<p>"Please tell the court," said Bronson, "whether you know +anything of the whereabouts of Dr. Small on the night of the +robbery at Peter Schroeder's."</p> +<p>Small had detected Walter's agitation, and, taking alarm, had +edged his way around so as to stand full in Walter's sight, and +there, with keen, magnetic eye on the weak orbs of the young man, +he was able to assume his old position, and sway the fellow +absolutely.</p> +<p>"On the night of the robbery"—Walter's voice was weak, but +he seemed to be reading his answer out of Small's eyes—"on +the night of the robbery Dr. Small came home before—" here +the witness stopped and shook and shivered again. For Bud, +detecting the effect of Small's gaze, had pushed his great hulk in +front of Small, and had fastened his eyes on Walter with a look +that said, "Tell the truth or go to penitentiary."</p> +<p>"I can't, I can't. O God! What shall I do?" the witness +exclaimed, answering the look of Bud. For it seemed to him that Bud +had spoken. To the people and the court this agitation was +inexplicable. Squire Hawkins' wig got awry, his glass eye turned +in toward his nose, and he had great difficulty in keeping his +teeth from falling out. The excitement became painfully intense. +Ralph was on his feet, looking at the witness, and feeling that +somehow Bud and Dr. Small—his good angel and his +demon—were playing an awful game, or which he was the stake. +The crowd swayed to and fro, but remained utterly silent, waiting +to hear the least whisper from the witness, who stood trembling a +moment with his hands over his face, and then fainted.</p> +<p>The fainting of a person in a crowd is a signal for everybody +else to make fools of themselves. There was a rush toward the +fainting man, there was a cry for water. Everybody asked everybody +else to open the window, and everybody wished everybody else to +stand back and give him air. But nobody opened the window, and +nobody stood back. The only perfectly cool man in the room was +Small. With a quiet air of professional authority he pushed forward +and felt the patient's pulse, remarking to the court that he +thought it was a sudden attack of fever with delirium. When Walter +revived, Dr. Small would have removed him, but Ralph insisted that +his testimony should be heard. Under pretense of watching his +patient, Small kept close to him. And Walter began the same old +story about Dr. Small's having arrived at the office before eleven +o'clock, when Bud came up behind the doctor and fastened his eyes +on the witness with the same significant look, and Walter, with +visions of the penitentiary before him halted, stammered, and +seemed about to faint again.</p> +<p>"If the court please," said Bronson, "this witness is evidently +intimidated by that stout young man," pointing to Bud. "I have seen +him twice interrupt witness's testimony by casting threatening +looks at him, I trust the court will have him removed from the +court-room."</p> +<p>After a few moments' consultation, during which Squire Hawkins +held his wig in place with one hand and alternately adjusted his +eye and his spectacles with the other, the magistrates, who were +utterly bewildered by the turn things were taking, decided that It +could do no harm, and that it was best to try the experiment of +removing Bud. Perhaps Johnson would then be able to get through +with his testimony. The constable therefore asked Bud if he would +please leave the room. Bud cast one last look at the witness and +walked out like a captive bear.</p> +<p>Ralph stood watching the receding form of Bud. The emergency had +made him as cool as Small ever was. Bud stopped at the door, where +he was completely out of sight of the witness, concealed by the +excited spectators, who stood on the benches to see what was going +on in front.</p> +<p>"The witness will please proceed," said Bronson.</p> +<p>"If the court please"—it was Ralph who spoke—"I +believe I have as much at stake in this trial as any one. That +witness is evidently intimidated. But not by Mr. Means. I ask that +Dr. Small be removed out of sight of the witness."</p> +<p>"A most extraordinary request, truly." This was what Small's +bland countenance said; he did not open his lips.</p> +<p>"It's no more than fair," said Squire Hawkins, adjusting his +wig, "that the witness be relieved of everything that anybody might +think affects his veracity in this matter."</p> +<p>Dr. Small, giving Walter one friendly, appealing look, moved +back by the door, and stood alongside Bud, as meek, quiet, and +disinterested as any man in the house.</p> +<p>"The witness will now proceed with his testimony." This time it +was Squire Hawkins who spoke. Bronson had been attacked with a +suspicion that this witness was not just what he wanted, and had +relapsed into silence.</p> +<p>Walter's struggle was by no means ended by the disappearance of +Small and Bud. There came the recollection of his mother's stern +face—a face which had never been a motive toward the right, +but only a goad to deception. What would she say if he should +confess? Just as he had recovered himself, and was about to repeat +the old lie which had twice died upon his lips at the sight of +Bud's look, he caught sight of another face, which made him tremble +again. It was the lofty and terrible countenance of Mr. Soden. One +might have thought, from the expression it wore, that the seven +last vials were in his hands, the seven apocalyptic trumpets +waiting for his lips, and the seven thunders sitting upon his +eyebrows. The moment that Walter saw him he smelled the brimstone +on his own garments, he felt himself upon the crumbling brink of +the precipice, with perdition below him. Now I am sure that +"Brother Sodoms" were not made wholly in vain. There are plenty of +mean-spirited men like Walter Johnson, whose feeble consciences +need all the support they can get from the fear of perdition, and +who are incapable of any other conception of it than a coarse and +materialistic ones Let us set it down to the credit of Brother +Sodom, with his stiff stock, his thunderous face, and his awful +walk, that his influence over Walter was on the side of truth.</p> +<p>"Please proceed," said Squire Hawkins to Walter. The Squire's +wig lay on one side, he had forgotten to adjust his eye, and he +leaned forward, tremulous with interest.</p> +<p>"Well, then," said Walter, looking not at the court nor at +Bronson nor at the prisoner, but furtively at Mr. +Soden—"well, then, if I must"—and Mr. Soden's awful +face seemed to answer that he surely must—"well, then, I hope +you won't send me to prison"—this to Squire Hawkins, whose +face reassured him—"but, oh! I don't see how I can!" But one +look at Mr. Soden assured him that he could and that he must, and +so, with an agony painful to the spectators, he told the story in +driblets. How, while yet in Lewisburg, he had been made a member of +a gang of which Small was chief; how they concealed from him the +names of all the band except six, of whom the Joneses and Small +were three.</p> +<p>Here there was a scuffle at the door. The court demanded +silence.</p> +<p>"Dr. Small's trying to git out, plague take him," said Bud, who +stood with his back planted against the door. "I'd like the court +to send and git his trunk afore he has a chance to burn up all the +papers that's in it."</p> +<p>"Constable, you will arrest Dr. Small, Peter Jones, and William +Jones. Send two deputies to bring Small's trunk into court," said +Squire Underwood.</p> +<p>The prosecuting attorney was silent.</p> +<p>Walter then told of the robbery at Schroeder's, told where he +and Small had whittled the fence while the Joneses entered the +house, and confirmed Ralph's story by telling how they had seen +Ralph in a fence-corner, and how they had met the basket-maker on +the hill.</p> +<p>"<i>To</i> be sure," said the old man, who had not ventured to +hold up his head, after he was arrested, until Walter began his +testimony.</p> +<p>Walter felt inclined to stop, but he could not do it, for there +stood Mr. Soden, looking to him like a messenger from the skies, or +the bottomless pit, sent to extort the last word from his guilty +soul He felt that he was making a clean breast of it—at the +risk of perdition, with the penitentiary thrown in, if he faltered. +And so he told the whole thing as though it had been the day of +doom, and by the time he was through, Small's trunk was in +court.</p> +<p>Here a new hubbub took place at the door. It was none other than +the crazy pauper, Tom Bifield, who personated General Andrew +Jackson in the poor-house. He had caught some inkling of the trial, +and had escaped in Bill Jones's absence. His red plume was flying, +and in his tattered and filthy garb he was indeed a picturesque +figure.</p> +<p>"Squar," said he, elbowing his way through the crowd, "I kin +tell you sornethin'. I'm Gineral Andrew Jackson. Lost my head at +Bueny Visty. This head growed on. It a'n't good fer much. One +side's tater. But t'other's sound as a nut. Now, I kind give you +information."</p> +<p>Bronson, with the quick perceptions of a politician, had begun +to see which way future winds would probably blow. "If the court +please," he said, "this man is not wholly sane, but we might get +valuable information out of him. I suggest that his testimony be +taken for what it is worth."</p> +<p>"No, you don't swar me," broke in the lunatic. "Not if I knows +myself. You see, when a feller's got one side of his head tater, +he's mighty onsartain like. You don't swar me, fer I can't tell +what minute the tater side'll begin to talk. I'm talkin' out of the +lef' side now, and I'm all right. But you don't swar me. But ef +you'll send some of your constables out to the barn at the +pore-house and look under the hay-mow in the north-east corner, +you'll find some things maybe as has been a-missin' fer some time. +And that a'n't out of the tater side, nuther."</p> +<p>Meantime Bud did not rest. Hearing the nature of the testimony +given by Hank Banta before he entered, he attacked Hank and vowed +he'd send him to prison if he didn't make a clean breast. Hank was +a thorough coward, and, now that his friends were prisoners, was +ready enough to tell the truth if he could be protected from +prosecution. Seeing the disposition of the prosecuting attorney, +Bud got from him a promise that he would do what he could to +protect Hank. That worthy then took the stand, confessed his lie, +and even told the inducement which Mr. Pete Jones had offered him +to perjure himself.</p> +<p>"<i>To</i> be sure," said Pearson.</p> +<p>Squire Hawkins, turning his right eye upon him, while the left +looked at the ceiling, said: "Be careful, Mr. Pearson, or I shall +have to punish you for contempt."</p> +<p>"Why, Squar, I didn't know 'twas any sin to hev a healthy +contemp' fer sech a thief as Jones!"</p> +<p>The Squire looked at Mr. Pearson severely, and the latter, +feeling that he had committed some offense without knowing it, +subsided into silence.</p> +<p>Bronson now had a keen sense of the direction of the gale.</p> +<p>"If the court please," said he, "I have tried to do my duty in +this case. It was my duty to prosecute Mr. Hartsook, however much I +might feel assured that he was innocent, and that he would be able +to prove his innocence. I now enter a <i>nolle</i> in his case and +that of John Pearson, and I ask that this court adjourn until +to-morrow, in order to give me time to examine the evidence in the +case of the other parties under arrest. I am proud to think that my +efforts have been the means of sifting the matter to the bottom, of +freeing Mr. Hartsook from suspicion, and of detecting the real +criminals."</p> +<p>"Ugh!" said Mr. Pearson, who conceived a great dislike to +Bronson.</p> +<p>"The court," said Squire Hawkins, "congratulates Mr. Hartsook on +his triumphant acquittal. He is discharged from the bar of this +court, and from the bar of public sentiment, without a suspicion of +guilt. Constable, discharge Ralph Hartsook and John Pearson."</p> +<p>Old Jack Means, who had always had a warm side for the master, +now proposed three cheers for Mr. Hartsook, and they were given +with a will by the people who would have hanged him an hour +before.</p> +<p>Mrs. Means gave it as her opinion that "Jack Means allers wuz a +fool!"</p> +<p>"This court," said Dr. Underwood, "has one other duty to perform +before adjourning for the day. Recall Hannah Thomson."</p> +<p>"I jist started her on ahead to git supper and milk the cows," +said Mrs. Means. "A'n't a-goin' to have her loafin' here all +day."</p> +<p>"Constable, recall her. This court can not adjourn until she +returns!"</p> +<p>Hannah had gone but a little way, and was soon in the presence +of the court, trembling for fear of some new calamity.</p> +<p>"Hannah Thomson"—it was Squire Underwood who +spoke—"Hannah Thomson, this court wishes to ask you one or +two questions."</p> +<p>"Yes, sir," but her voice died to a whisper.</p> +<p>"How old did you say you were?</p> +<p>"Eighteen, sir, last October."</p> +<p>"Can you prove your age?"</p> +<p>"Yes, sir—by my mother."</p> +<p>"For how long are you bound to Mr. Means?"</p> +<p>"Till I'm twenty-one."</p> +<p>"This court feels in duty bound to inform you that, according to +the laws of Indiana, a woman is of age at eighteen, and as no +indenture could be made binding after you had reached your +majority, you are the victim of a deception. You are free, and if +it can be proven that you have been defrauded by a willful +deception, a suit for damages will lie."</p> +<p>"Ugh!" said Mrs. Means. "You're a purty court, a'n't you, Dr. +Underwood?"</p> +<p>"Be careful, Mrs. Means, or I shall have to fine you for +contempt of court."</p> +<p>But the people, who were in the cheering humor, cheered Hannah +and the justices, and then cheered Ralph again. Granny Sanders +shook hands with him, and allers knowed he'd come out right. It +allers 'peared like as if Dr. Small warn't jist the sort to tie to, +you know. And old John Pearson went home, after drinking two or +three glasses of Welch's whisky, keeping time to an imaginary +triumphal march, and feeling prouder than he had ever felt since he +fit the Britishers under Scott at Lundy's Lane. He told his wife +that the master had jist knocked the hind-sights offen that air +young lawyer from Lewisburg.</p> +<p>Walter was held to bail that he might appear as a witness, and +Ralph might have sent his aunt a Roland for an Oliver. But he only +sent a note to his uncle, asking him to go Walter's bail. If he had +been resentful, he could not have wished for a more complete +revenge than the day had brought.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXII" id="CHAPTER_XXXII"></a>CHAPTER +XXXII.</h2> +<h3>AFTER THE BATTLE.</h3> +<p>Nothing can be more demoralizing in the long run than lynch law. +And yet lynch law often originates in a burst of generous +indignation which is not willing to suffer a bold oppressor to +escape by means of corrupt and cowardly courts. It is oftener born +of fear. Both motives powerfully agitated the people of the region +round about Clifty as night drew on after Ralph's acquittal. They +were justly indignant that Ralph had been made the victim of such a +conspiracy, and they were frightened at the unseen danger to the +community from such a band as that of Small's. It was certain that +they did not know the full extent of the danger as yet. And what +Small might do with a jury, or what Pete Jones might do with a +sheriff, was a question. I must not detain the reader to tell how +the mob rose. Nobody knows how such things come about. Their origin +is as inexplicable as that of an earthquake. But, at any rate, a +rope was twice put round Small's neck during that night, and both +times Small was saved only by the nerve and address of Ralph, who +had learned how unjust mob law may be. As for Small, he neither +trembled when they were ready to hang him, nor looked relieved when +he was saved, nor showed the slightest flush of penitence or +gratitude. He bore himself in a quiet, gentlemanly way throughout, +like the admirable villain that he was.</p> +<p>He waived a preliminary examination the next day; his father +went his bail, and he forfeited bail and disappeared from the +county and from the horizon of my story. Two reports concerning +Small have been in circulation—one that he was running a +faro-bank in San Francisco, the other that he was curing +consumption in New York by some quack process. If this latter were +true, it would leave it an open question whether Ralph did well to +save him from the gallows. Pete Jones and Bill, as usually happens +to the rougher villains, went to prison, and when their terms had +expired moved to Pike County, Missouri.</p> +<p>But it is about Hannah that you wish to hear, and that I wish to +tell. She went straight from the court room to Flat Creek, climbed +to her chamber, packed in a handkerchief all her earthly goods, +consisting chiefly of a few family relics, and turned her back on +the house of Means forever. At the gate she met the old woman, who +shook her fist in the girl's face and gave her a parting +benediction in the words: "You mis'able, ongrateful critter you, go +'long. I'm glad to be shed of you!" At the barn she met Bud, and he +told her good-by with a little huskiness in his voice, while a tear +glistened in her eyes. Bud had been a friend in need, and such a +friend one does not leave without a pang.</p> +<p>"Where are you going? Can I—"</p> +<p>"No, no!" And with that she hastened on, afraid that Bud would +offer to hitch up the roan colt. And she did not want to add to his +domestic unhappiness by compromising him in that way.</p> +<p>It was dusk and was raining when she left. The hours were long, +the road was lonely, and after the revelations of that day it did +not seem wholly safe. But from the moment that she found herself +free, her heart had been ready to break with an impatient +homesickness. What though there might be robbers in the woods? What +though there were ten rough miles to travel? What though the rain +was in her face? What though she had not tasted food since the +morning of that exciting day? Flat Creek and bondage were behind; +freedom, mother, Shocky, and home were before her, and her feet +grew lighter with the thought. And if she needed any other joy, it +was to know that the master was clear. And he would come? And so +she traversed the weary distance, and so she inquired and found the +house, the beautiful, homely old house of beautiful, homely old +Nancy Sawyer, and knocked, and was admitted, and fell down, faint +and weary, at her blind mother's feet, and laid her tired head in +her mother's lap and wept and wept like a child, and said, "O +mother! I'm free! I'm free!" while the mother's tears baptized her +face, and the mother's trembling fingers combed out her tresses. +And Shocky stood by her and cried: "I knowed God wouldn't forget +you, Hanner!"</p> +<p>Hannah was ready now to do anything by which she could support +her mother and Shocky. She was strong, and inured to toil. She was +willing and cheerful, and she would gladly have gone to service if +by that means she could have supported the family. And, for that +matter her mother was already able nearly to support herself by her +knitting. But Hannah had been carefully educated when young, and at +that moment the old public schools were being organized into a +graded school, and the good minister, who shall be nameless, +because he is, perhaps, still living in Indiana, and who in +Methodist parlance was called "the preacher-in-charge of Lewisburg +Station"—this good minister and Miss Nancy Sawyer got Hannah +a place as teacher in the primary department. And then a little +house with four rooms was rented, and a little, a very little +furniture was put into it, and the old sweet home was established +again. The father was gone, never to come back again. But the rest +were here. And somehow Hannah kept waiting for somebody else to +come.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXXIII"></a>CHAPTER +XXXIII.</h2> +<h3>INTO THE LIGHT.</h3> +<p>For two weeks longer Ralph taught at the Flat Creek +school-house. He was everybody's hero. And he was Bud's idol. He +did what he could to get Bud and Martha together, and though Bud +always "saw her safe home" after this, and called on her every +Sunday evening, yet, to save his life, he could not forget his big +fists and his big feet long enough to say what he most wanted to +say, and what Martha most wanted him to say.</p> +<p>At the end of two weeks Ralph found himself exceedingly weary of +Flat Creek, and exceedingly glad to hear from Mr. Means that the +school-money had "gin out." It gave him a good excuse to return to +Lewisburg, where his heart and his treasure were. A certain sense +of delicacy had kept him from writing to Hannah just yet.</p> +<p>When he got to Lewisburg he had good news. His uncle, ashamed of +his previous neglect, and perhaps with an eye to his nephew's +growing popularity, had got him the charge of the grammar +department in the new graded school in the village. So he quietly +arranged to board at a boarding-house. His aunt could not have him +about, of which fact he was very glad. She could not but feel, she +said, that he might have taken better care of Walter than he did, +when they were only four miles apart.</p> +<p>He did not hasten to call on Hannah. Why should he? He sent her +a message, of no consequence in itself, by Nancy Sawyer. Then he +took possession of his school; and then, on the evening of the +first day of school, he went, as he had appointed to himself, to +see Hannah Thomson.</p> +<p>And she, with some sweet presentiment, had got things ready by +fixing up the scantily-furnished room as well as she could. And +Miss Nancy Sawyer, who had seen Ralph that afternoon, had guessed +that he was going to see Hannah. It's wonderful how much enjoyment +a generous heart can get out of the happiness of others. Is not +that what He meant when he said of such as Miss Sawyer that they +should have a hundred-fold in this life for all their sacrifices? +Did not Miss Nancy enjoy a hundred weddings and have the love of +five hundred children? And so Miss Nancy just happened over at Mrs. +Thomson's humble home, and, just in the most matter-of-course way, +asked that lady and Shocky to come over to her house. Shocky wanted +Hannah to come too. But Hannah blushed a little, and said that she +would rather not.</p> +<p>And when she was left alone, Hannah fixed her hair two or three +times, and swept the hearth, and moved the chairs first one way and +then another, and did a good many other needless things. Needless: +for a lover, if he be a lover, does not see furniture or dress.</p> +<p>And then she sat down by the fire, and tried to sew, and tried +to look unconcerned, and tried to feel unconcerned, and tried not +to expect anybody, and tried to make her heart keep still. And +tried in vain. For a gentle rap at the door sent her pulse up +twenty beats a minute and made her face burn. And Hartsook was for +the first time, abashed in the presence of Hannah. For the +oppressed girl had, in two weeks, blossomed out into the full-blown +woman.</p> +<p>And Ralph sat down by the fire, and talked of his school and her +school, and everything else but what he wanted to talk about. And +then the conversation drifted back to Flat Creek, and to the walk +through the pasture, and to the box-elder tree, and to the painful +talk in the lane. And Hannah begged to be forgiven, and Ralph +laughed at the idea that she had done anything wrong. And she +praised his goodness to Shocky, and he drew her little note out +of—But I agreed not tell you where he kept it. And then she +blushed, and he told how the note had sustained him, and how her +white face kept up his courage in his flight down the bed of Clifty +Creek. And he sat a little nearer, to show her the note that he had +carried in his bosom—I have told it! And—but I must not +proceed. A love-scene, ever so beautiful in itself, will not bear +telling. And so I shall leave a little gap just here, which you may +fill up as you please. . . . Somehow, they never knew how, they got +to talking about the future instead of the past, after that, and to +planning their two lives as one life. And . . . And when Miss Nancy +and Mrs. Thomson returned later in the evening, Ralph was standing +by the mantel-piece, but Shocky noticed that his chair was close to +Hannah's. And good Miss Nancy Sawyer looked in Hannah's face and +was happy.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXXIV"></a>CHAPTER +XXXIV.</h2> +<h3>"HOW IT CAME OUT"</h3> +<p>We are all children in reading stories. We want more than all +else to know how it all came out at the end, and, if our taste is +not perverted, we like it to come out well. For my part, ever since +I began to write this story, I have been anxious to know how it was +going to come out.</p> +<p>Well, there were very few invited. It took place at ten in the +morning. The "preacher-in-charge" came, of course. Miss Nancy +Sawyer was there. But Ralph's uncle was away, and Aunt Matilda had +a sore throat and couldn't come. Perhaps the memory of the fact +that she had refused Mrs. Thomson, the pauper, a bed for two +nights, affected her throat. But Miss Nancy and her sister were +there, and the preacher. And that was all, besides the family, and +Bud and Martha. Of course Bud and Martha came. And driving Martha +to a wedding in a "jumper" was the one opportunity Bud needed. His +hands were busy, his big boots were out of sight, and it was so +easy to slip from Ralph's love affair to his own, that Bud somehow, +in pulling Martha Hawkins' shawl about her, stammered out half a +proposal, which Martha, generous soul, took for the whole ceremony, +and accepted. And Bud was so happy that Ralph guessed from his face +and voice that the agony was over, and Bud was betrothed at last to +the "gal as was a gal."</p> +<p>And after Ralph and Hannah were married—there was no trip, +Ralph only changed his boarding-place and became head of the house +at Mrs. Thomson's thereafter—after it was all over, Bud came +to Mr. Hartsook, and, snickering just a little, said as how as him +and Martha had fixed it all up, and now they wanted to ax his +advice; and Martha proud but blushing, came up and nodded assent. +Bud said as how as he hadn't got no book-larnin' nor nothin', and +as how as he wanted to be somethin', and put in his best licks fer +Him, you know'. And that Marthy, she was of the same way of +thinkin', and that was a blessin'. And the Squire was a-goin' to +marry agin', and Marthy would ruther vacate. And his mother and +Mirandy was sech as he wouldn't take no wife to. And he thought as +how Mr. Hartsook might think of some way or some place where he and +Marthy mout make a livin' fer the present, and put in their best +licks fer Him, you know.</p> +<p>Ralph thought a moment. He was about to make an allusion to +Hercules and the Augean stables, but he remembered that Bud would +not understand it, though it might remind Martha of something she +had seen at the East, the time she was to Bosting.</p> +<p>"Bud, my dear friend," said Ralph, "it looks a little hard to +ask you to take a new wife"—here Bud looked admiringly at +Martha—"to the poor-house. But I don't know anywhere where +you can do so much good for Christ as by taking charge of that +place, and I can get the appointment for you. The new commissioners +want just such a man."</p> +<p>"What d'ye say, Marthy?" said Bud.</p> +<p>"Why, somebody ought to do for the poor, and I should like to do +it."</p> +<p>And so Hercules cleaned the Augean stables.</p> +<p>And so my humble, homely Hoosier story of twenty years +ago<a name="FNanchor_29_29" id="FNanchor_29_29"></a><a href= +"#Footnote_29_29" class="fnanchor">[29]</a> draws to a close, and +not without regret I take leave of Ralph and Hannah; and Shocky, +and Bud, and Martha, and Miss Nancy, and of my readers.</p> +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> +<p>P.S.—A copy of the Lewisburg <i>Jeffersonian</i> came into +my hands to-day, and I see by its columns that Ralph Hartsook is +principal of the Lewisburg Academy. It took me some time, however, +to make out that the sheriff of the county, Mr. Israel W. Means, +was none other than my old friend Bud, of the Church of the Best +Licks. I was almost as much puzzled over his name as I was when I +saw an article in a city paper, by Prof. W.J. Thomson, on +Poor-Houses. I should not have recognized the writer as Shocky, had +I not known that Shocky has given his spare time to making outcasts +feel that God has not forgot.</p> +<div class="footnotes"> +<p class="center">FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"> +<p><a name="Footnote_29_29" id="Footnote_29_29"></a><a href= +"#FNanchor_29_29"><span class="label">[29]</span></a> Written in +1871.</p> +</div> +</div> +<h3>THE END</h3> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Hoosier Schoolmaster, by Edward Eggleston + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HOOSIER SCHOOLMASTER *** + +***** This file should be named 15099-h.htm or 15099-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/5/0/9/15099/ + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Charlie Kirschner and the PG Online +Distributed Proofreading Team. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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