A SCHOOL SCENE.
"They had quite a time at school yesterday," said Nat to Charlie, one
morning during the winter following their entrance into the factory.
"What was it? I have heard nothing."
"The teacher had a real tussle with Sam Drake, and for a little while it
was doubtful who would be master. They both fell flat on the floor,
tipped over the chair, and frightened the girls badly."
"What did the teacher attempt to punish him for?"
"He wrote a letter to one of the boys about the teacher, and said some
hard things, and the teacher got hold of the letter and read it. Then he
called him up and made him spell before the school some of the words he
had spelled wrong in the letter, at which they all laughed till Sam
refused to spell any more. Then he doubled up his fist at the teacher,
and defied him to whip him."
"He ought to have been flogged," said Charlie; "I hope he got his
deserts."
"If reports are true, he did. Though it was a hard battle, the teacher
made him beg at last, and they say the committee will turn him out of
school to-day."
As the facts in the case were not quite as reports would have them, we
shall give a correct history of the affair. Nat had heard an exaggerated
report, and communicated it just as he received it. But the teacher did
not have a hard time at all in conquering the rebellious boy, and
neither of them fell on the floor. Neither did Sam shake his fist at
him, and defy him to strike. The case was this:
The teacher observed a little commotion among the scholars, and inferred
that some sort of game was being secretly played. On this account he
tried to be Argus-eyed, and soon discovered a paper, as he thought,
passed along from one scholar to another, that created considerable
sensation. When it reached John Clyde, the teacher inquired:
"John! what have you there?"
After some hesitation, John answered "a paper," at the same time making
an effort to conceal it.
"Be careful, sir," said the teacher; "_I_ will take that document," and
so saying, he stepped quickly to John's seat, and took the paper from
his hand.
It proved to be a letter from Samuel Drake to Alpheus Coombs, and read
as follows:
ALFEUS KOOMS,--if you will trade nives with me as we talked
yisterday it will be a bargin for you, mine is jist as i telled you, or
the world is flat as a pancake. Rite back and mind nothin about old
speticles i don't care a red cent for his regilations about riting
letters in school i shall do it when i please, and if he don't like it,
he may lump it, he is a reglar old betty anyhow, and i kinder thinks his
mother don't know he is out if he should happen along your way with his
cugel, you may give him my complerments and tell him that I live out
here in the corner and hopes he'll keep a respecterble distance, now
rite back at once and show old speticles that the mail will go in this
school-house anyhow. Your old Frend
SAMUEL DRAKE.
We have given the letter just as it was written, with its lack of
punctuation, bad spelling and all. Samuel was accustomed to call the
teacher "old speticles," because he wore glasses. The letter is a key to
the character and attainments of a class of bad boys in every community,
when they are about fifteen years of age.
The teacher took the letter to his desk, and carefully read it over, and
then called out to its author, in a loud voice,
"Samuel! come into the floor."
Samuel knew that his letter was discovered then, and he hesitated.
"Samuel! come into the floor I say," exclaimed the teacher again, in a
tone that was truly emphatic.
Samuel started, and took his place in the floor.
"Now turn round," said the teacher, "and face the school."
Samuel did as he was commanded, not knowing what was coming.
"Now spell Alpheus," said the teacher.
Some of the scholars who had read the letter began to laugh, as they now
saw the design of the teacher. Samuel had his eyes open by this time,
and saw what was coming. He hesitated and hung down his head.
"Be quick, sir. You shall have a chance now to exhibit your spelling
acquisitions."
Samuel dared not refuse longer, so he began,
"A-l-al-f-e-fe-u-s-us."
"Pronounce it, sir."
"Alfeus."
The scholars laughed heartily, and the teacher joined them, and for
three minutes the school-room fairly rung with shouts.
"Now spell Coombs," said the teacher.
"K-double o-m-s, kooms."
Again there was a roar of laughter in the room, which the teacher did
not wish to suppress.
"Spell knife now; you are so brilliant that the scholars would like to
hear more."
"N-i-f-e."
The scholars laughed again in good earnest, and the teacher added, "That
is not the way to spell a very sharp knife."
"Spell bargain."
"B-a-r-bar-g-i-n-gin, bargin."
"Such a kind of a bargain, I suppose, as a poor scholar makes, when he
wastes time enough in one winter to make him a good speller," continued
the teacher. When the laughter had ceased, he put out another word.
"Spell spectacles."
"S-p-e-t-spet-i-speti-c-l-e-s-cles, speticles."
Some of the scholars really shouted at this new style of orthography.
"I suppose that is the kind of glasses that 'old speticles' wears," said
the teacher. "You do not appear to entertain a very good opinion of him.
You may spell respectable."
"I shan't spell any more," answered Samuel in an insolent manner.
"Shan't spell any more! I command you to spell respectable."
"I shan't spell it," replied Samuel more defiantly.
In another instant the teacher seized him by the collar, and with one
desperate effort sent him half across the school-room. He hit the chair
in his progress and knocked it over, and the teacher hit his own foot
against the corner of the platform on which the desk was raised, and
stumbled, though he did not fall. From this, the report went abroad that
there was a sort of mélee in school, and the teacher was flung upon the
floor in the scuffle. By the time Samuel found himself on his back, the
teacher stood over him with what the young rebel called a cugel (cudgel)
in his letter, saying,
"Get upon your feet and spell respectable loud enough for every scholar
to hear."
The boy saw it was no use to contend with such strength and
determination, and he instantly obeyed, under great mortification.
"R-e-re-s-p-e-c-spec-respec-t-e-r-ter-respecter-b-l-e-ble,
respecterble."
The matter had assumed so serious an aspect by this time that the
scholars were quite sober, otherwise they would have laughed at this
original way of spelling respectable.
"Hold out your hand now," said the teacher, and at once the hand was
held out, and was severely ferruled.
"Now you can take your seat, and await the decision of the committee. I
shall hand them your letter to-night, and they will decide whether to
expel you from school or not."
Samuel went to his seat pretty thoroughly humbled, and the teacher
embraced the opportunity to give the scholars some good advice. He was a
good teacher, amiable, affectionate, and laborious, but firm and
resolute. He was too strict to please such indolent boys as Samuel, who
often tried him by his idleness and stupidity. His object in making him
spell as he did was to mortify him by an exposure of his ignorance. His
father had given him good opportunities to learn, but he had not
improved them, so that he could spell scarcely better than scholars
eight years old. Had he been a backward boy, who could make little
progress, even with hard study, the teacher would not have subjected him
to such mortification; but he was indolent, and his ignorance was solely
the fruit of idleness. On the whole, it was about as good a lesson as he
ever had, and was likely to be remembered a good while. The district
generally sustained the teacher in his prompt efforts to subdue the
vicious boy.
The committee considered the case on that evening, and decided that
Samuel should be expelled from school. They were influenced to decide
thus, in part, by his many instances of previous misconduct. He was
habitually a troublesome scholar, and they concluded that the time had
come to make an example of him. Their decision was communicated to him
by the teacher on the following day, and he was accordingly expelled.
When he went out, with his books under his arm, he turned round and made
a very low bow, which, though he intended it as an indignity, really
savored more of good manners than he was wont to show.
In the sequel, the reader will understand why this incident is narrated
here, and, by the contrast with Nat's habits and course of life, will
learn that the "boy is father of the man" that "idleness is the mother
of vice," and that "industry is fortune's right hand, frugality her
left."