THE POGANUC PUZZLE SOLVED.
Zeph Higgins had the spirit of a general. He, too, had his vision of
an approaching town-meeting, and that evening, sitting in his family
circle, gave out his dictum on the subject:
"Wal--they'll hev a town-meetin' afore long, and hev up that air old
school'us' bizness," he said, as he sat facing the blaze of the grand
kitchen fire.
Mrs. Higgins sat by in her little splint-bottomed rocking-chair,
peacefully clicking her knitting-needles. Abner sat at her right
hand, poring over a volume of "Rollin's Ancient History." Abel and
Jeduthun were playing fox-and-goose with grains of corn in the
corner, and Tim was whittling a goose-poke.
All looked up at the announcement of this much-bruited subject.
"They never seem to come to anything on that subject," said Mrs.
Higgins. "I wish the school-house was better situated; a great many
are kept from the prayer meetings there that would come if it wasn't
for that windy, slippery hill. The last time I went, it was all I
could do to get up," she said; "and I thought I caught a cold."
"There's not the least doubt on't," said Zeph, "and the children are
allers catchin' colds. Everybody knows where that air school'us'
ought to be. Confounded fools they be, the hull lot on 'em; and, for
my part, I'm tired o' this 'ere quarrelin' and jawin', and I ain't
a-goin' to stan' it no longer. It's a shame and it's a sin to keep up
these 'ere quarrels among neighbors, and I'm a-goin' to put a stop to
it."
It may be imagined that this exordium caused a sensation in the
family circle.
Mrs. Higgins opened her meek blue eyes upon her husband with a
surprised expression; the two boys sat with their game suspended and
their mouths open, and the goose-poke and "Rollin's History" were
alike abandoned in the pause of astonishment.
"Tomorrow's Saturday," said Zeph; "and Saturday afternoon there won't
be no school, and I'll jest take the boys, both yoke of oxen and
the sleds, and go up and move that air school'us' down to the place
where't orter be. I'll wedge it up and settle it good and firm, and
that'll be the end on't. Tain't no sort o' use to talk. I'm jest
a-goin' to _do_ it."
Zeph looked as if he meant it, and his family had ceased to think
anything impossible that he took in hand to do. If he had announced
his intention of blowing up the neighboring crag of Bluff Head, and
building a castle out of the fragments, they would have expected to
see it done.
So Zeph took the family Bible, and, in a high-pitched and determined
voice, read the account of Samson carrying off the gates of Gaza,
repeated his evening prayer, ordered all hands to bed, raked up the
fire, had all snug and quiet, and stepped into bed just as the last
stroke of the nine o'clock bell was resounding.
At four o'clock the next afternoon, as Hiel Jones was coming in on
his high seat on the Poganuc stage, whistling cheerily, a sudden new
sensation struck him. Passing over North Poganuc hill, he bethought
him of the schoolhouse question, and lifted up his eyes, and lo!
no schoolhouse was there. For a moment Hiel felt giddy. What was
the matter with his head? He rubbed his eyes, and looked on all the
other familiar objects; there was the old pine tree, there the great
rock, but the schoolhouse was gone. The place where it had stood was
disturbed by tramping of many feet, and a broad, smooth trail led
down the hill.
"Wal, somebody hez gone and ben and done it," said Hiel, as he
whipped up his horses to carry the news.
Farther on, in a convenient spot at the junction of three roads,
under the shelter of a hill, stood the schoolhouse--serene as if
it had grown there; while Zeph Higgins and his son Abner were just
coming forward on the road toward Hiel, Zeph triumphantly whipping
his oxen and shouting the word of command in an elevated voice.
Hiel drew to one side, and gave a long whistle. "Je-_ru_-salem," he
exclaimed, "ef you hain't ben and done it!"
Zeph lifted his head with an air of as much satisfaction as his hard
features could assume, and, nodding his head in the direction of the
schoolhouse, said:
"Yis--there 'tis!"
Hiel laid his head back, and burst into a loud, prolonged laugh, in
which he was joined by Abner and the boys.
"Don't see nothin' to laugh at," said Zeph, with grim satisfaction.
"Fact is, I can't hev these 'ere quarrels--and I won't hev 'em. That
air's the place for that school'us', and it's _got_ to stand there,
and that's the eend on't. Come, boys, hurry home; mother's beans will
be a-gettin cold. Gee--g'lang!" and the black whip cracked over the
back of the ox-team.
Hiel was a made man. He had in possession an astounding piece of
intelligence, that nobody knew but himself, and he meant to make the
most of it.
He hurried first to Deacon Peasley's store, where quite a number were
sitting round the stove with their Saturday night purchases. In burst
Hiel:
"Wal, that air North Poganuc school'us' is _moved_, and settled down
under the hills by the cross-road."
The circle looked for a moment perfectly astounded and stupefied.
"You don't say so!"
"Dew tell!"
"Don't believe ye."
"Wal, ye kin all go and see. I came by, jest half an hour ago, and
see it with my own eyes, and Zeph Higgins and his boys a-drivin' off
with their sleds and oxen. I tell ye that air thing is jest _done_.
I'm a-goin' to tell Dr. Cushing's folks."
Poganuc People had something to talk about now, in good earnest.
Hiel stopped his stage at the parson's door, and Dr. Cushing,
expecting some bundle from Boston, came out to the gate.
"Doctor, thought I'd jest stop and tell ye that the North Poganuc
school'us' hez ben moved to the cross-roads, down under the
hill--thought ye'd like to hear it."
The Doctor's exclamation and uplifted hands brought to the door Mrs.
Cushing and Dolly and the two boys, with Nabby. Hiel was in his
glory, and recounted all the circumstances with great prolixity, the
Doctor and Mrs. Cushing and all his audience laughing at his vigorous
narrative.
"Yis," said Hiel, "he said he wa'n't a-goin' to hev no more
quarrelin' about it; everybody knew the school'us' ought to be there,
and there 'twas. It was all wedged up tight and stiddy, and the stove
in it, and the pipe stickin' out o' the winder, all nateral as could
be, and he jest goin' off home, as ef nothin' hed happened."
"Well, if that ain't jest like father!" exclaimed Nabby, with an air
of pride. "If he wants a thing done he will do it."
"Certainly this time he has done a good thing," said the Doctor; "and
for my part I'm obliged to him. I suppose the spirit of the Lord came
on him, as it did on Samson."
And for weeks and months thereafter, there was abundance of talking
and every variety of opinion expressed as to the propriety of Zeph's
_coup d'état_, but nobody, man, woman, or child, ever proposed to
move the schoolhouse back again.