THE SCHOOLMISTRESS.
Of the many thousand individuals destined to become the purchasers of a
copy of this work, a majority have undoubtedly been, or are still
teachers, and of these many will remember the time when they fancied
that to be invested with the dignity of a teacher was to secure the
greatest amount of happiness which earth can bestow. Almost from my
earliest remembrance it had been the one great subject which engrossed
my thoughts, and frequently, when strolling down the shady hill-side
which led to our schoolhouse, have I fancied myself the teacher,
thinking that if such were really the case, my first act should be the
chastisement of half a score or more boys, who were in the daily habit
of annoying me in various ways. Every word and action of my teacher,
too, was carefully noted and laid away against the time when I should
need them, and which came much sooner than I anticipated; for one rainy
morning when Lizzie and I were playing in the garret, I overheard my
father saying there was a chance for Rosa to teach school.
“What, that child!” was my mother’s exclamation, but ere he could reply,
“the child” had bounded down two pair of stairs, and stood at his elbow,
asking, “Who is it?—Where is it?—And do you suppose I can get a
certificate?”
This last idea damped my ardor somewhat, for horrible visions came up
before me, of the “Abbreviations” and “Sounds of the Vowels,” in both of
which I was rather deficient.
“_You_ teach school! You look like it!” said my sister Juliet. “Why, in
less than three days, you’d be _teetering_ with the girls, if indeed you
didn’t climb trees with the boys.”
This _climbing_ was undeniably a failing of mine, there being scarcely a
tree on the farm on whose topmost limbs I hadn’t at some time or other
been perched; but I was _older_ now. I was _thirteen_ two days before,
and so I reminded Juliet, at the same time begging of father to tell me
all about it. It appeared that he had that day met with a Mr. Randall,
the trustee of Pine District, who was in quest of a teacher. After
learning that the school was small, father ventured to propose me, who,
he said, “was crazy to _keep_ school.”
“A dollar a week is the most we can give her,” returned Mr. Randall,
“and if you’ll take up with that, mebby we’ll try her. New beginners
sometimes do the best.”
So it was arranged that I was to teach fifteen weeks for four dollars
per month and _board round_ at that! Boarding round! How many
reminiscences do these two words recall to those who, like myself, have
tried it, and who know that it has a variety of significations. That
sometimes it is only another name for sleeping with every child in the
family where your home for one week may chance to be—for how can you be
insensible to the oft-repeated whisper, “_I_ shall sleep with her
to-night—ma said I might;” and of “ma’s” audible answer, “Perhaps,
_sis_, she don’t want you to.”
If “sis” is a clean, chubby-looking little creature, you _do_ want her;
but if, as it not unfrequently happens, she is just the opposite,——I
draw a blank which almost every country teacher in the land can fill,
merely saying that there is no alternative. We have got the district to
please and we must do it some way or other.
Again, “boarding round” means a quiet, cozy spot, where everything is so
pleasant and cheerful, where the words are so kind and the smile of
welcome so sweet, that you feel at once at home, and wish, oh, how you
do wish, you could stay there all the summer long; but it cannot be;—the
time of your allotted sojourn passes away, and then with a sigh, if
indeed you can repress a tear, you gather up your combs, brushes, and
little piece of embroidery, to which some spiteful woman has said “you
devote more time than to your school,” and putting them in your sachel,
depart for another home, sometimes as pleasant as the one you are
leaving, sometimes not.
But of these annoyances I knew nothing, and when Mr. Randall came to see
me, calling me _Miss Lee_, and when I was really engaged, my happiness
was complete. In a country neighborhood every item of news, however
slight, spreads rapidly, and the fact that I was to teach soon became
generally known, creating quite a sensation, and operating differently
upon different natures. One old gentleman, who, times innumerable, had
held me on his knee, feeding my vanity with flattery, and my stomach
with sweetmeats, was quite as much delighted as I, declaring, “he always
knew I was destined to make something great.”
Dear old man! When the snows of last winter were high piled upon the
earth, they dug for him a grave in the frozen ground, and in the world
where now he lives, he will not know, perhaps, that I shall never
fulfill his prophecy.
Aunt Sally Wright, who, besides managing her own affairs, kept an eye on
her neighbors’, and who looked upon me as a “pert, forward piece,” gave
her opinion freely. “What! That young one keep school! Is Deacon Lee
crazy? Ain’t Rose stuck up enough now? But never mind. You’ll see she
won’t keep out more’n half her time, if she does that.”
Aunt Sally was gifted with the power of telling fortunes by means of
tea-grounds, and I have always fancied she read that prediction in the
bottom of her big blue cup, for how could she otherwise have known what
actually happened! Ere long the news reached Pine District, creating
quite an excitement, the older people declaring “_they’d_ never send to
a little girl,” while the juvenile portion of the inhabitants gave a
contemptuous whistle or so in honor of the school ma’am elect. Mrs.
Capt. Thompson, who boasted the biggest house, handsomest carpet and
worst boy in Pine Hill, was wholly incredulous, until she one day
chanced to meet with Aunt Sally, who not only confirmed it, but also
kindly gave her many little items touching my character as a “wild,
romping minx, who was no more qualified for a teacher than for the Queen
of England,” citing as proof of what she said, that only the year before
she had seen me “trying to ride on a cow.”
Mrs. Capt. Thompson, who was blessed with an overwhelming sense of
propriety, was greatly shocked, saying “she’d always thought Mr. Randall
knew just enough to hire a child,” and consoling herself with the remark
that “it was not at all probable I’d get a certificate.”
On this point I was myself a little fearful. True, I had been “sent
away” to school, and had been flattered into the belief that I possessed
far more book knowledge than I did; but this, I knew, would avail me
nothing with the formidable committee who held my destiny in their
hands. _They_ were unbiased in my favor, and had probably never heard of
me, as they lived in an adjoining town. But “where there’s a will
there’s a way,” and determining not to fail, I ransacked the cupboard,
where our school-books were kept, bringing thence Olney’s Geography,
Colburn’s Arithmetic, History of the United States, Grammars, etc., all
of which were for days my constant companions, and I even slept with one
or more of them under my pillow, so that with the earliest dawn I could
study. Whole pages of Geography were committed to memory, all the
hardest problems in Colburn were solved, a dozen or more of compound
relatives were parsed and disposed of to _my_ satisfaction at least, and
I was just beginning to feel strong in my own abilities, when one Monday
morning news was brought us that at three o’clock that afternoon all who
were intending to teach in the town of S—— were to meet at the house of
the Rev. Mr. Parks, then and there to be questioned of what they knew
and what they didn’t know. This last referred to _me_, for now that the
dreaded day had come, I felt that every idea had suddenly left me,
while, to increase my embarrassment, I was further informed that as
there had the year previous been some trouble among the School
Inspectors, each of whom fancied that the other did not take his share
of the work, the town had this year thought to obviate the difficulty by
electing _nine_!
_One_ was bad enough, but at the thought of nine men in spectacles my
heart sank within me, and it was some time ere I could be persuaded to
make the trial. In the midst of our trouble, Aunt Sally, whose clothes
on Monday mornings were always swinging on the line before light, and
who usually spent the afternoon of that day in visiting, came in, and
after learning what was the cause of my flushed cheeks, said, by way of
comforting me, that “she didn’t wonder an atom if I felt streaked, for
’twant no ways likely I’d pass!”
This roused my pride, and with the mental comment that “I’d _pass_ for
all her,” I got myself in readiness, Juliet lending me her green veil,
and Anna her fine pocket handkerchief, while mother’s soft warm shawl
was wrapped lovingly about me, and Lizzie slipped into my pocket the
_Multiplication Table_, which she thought I might manage to look at
slily in case of an emergency. On our way father commenced the
examination by asking me the length of the Mississippi, but I didn’t
know as it had a length, and in despair he gave up his questioning.
Oh, how sombre and dreary seemed the little parlor into which we were
ushered by the servant, who, on learning our business, looked rather
doubtfully at me, as much as to say, “_You_ surely can’t be one of
them?” In a short time the parlor was filled, the entire _nine_ being
there. Not one was absent, and in a row directly opposite, they sat,
some tipped back in a lounging attitude, some cutting their finger nails
with their penknives, while others sat up stiff and stern, the whole
presenting a most formidable appearance. There were eight or ten
candidates present, and unfortunately for me, I was seated at what I
called the foot of the class. It seemed that the most of them were
acquainted, and as I was almost the only stranger present, it was but
natural that they should look at me rather more that I liked. My
pantalets evidently attracted their attention, but by dint of drawing up
my feet and pushing down my dress I hoped to hide my _short_-comings.
When, at last, the examination commenced, I found, to my great delight,
that Geography was the subject introduced, and my heart beat high, for I
thought of the pages I could repeat and ardently longed for a chance to
display! Unfortunately for me they merely questioned us from the map,
and breathlessly I awaited my turn. At length the young lady who sat
next to me was asked “What two rivers unite and form the Ohio?” I looked
at her sidewise. The bloom deepened on her cheek, and I was sure she had
forgotten. Involuntarily I felt tempted to tell her, but did not, and
Mr. Parks, looking inquiringly at me, said, “Perhaps the next one can.
Ahem!”
He caught sight of my offending pantalets, and thinking me some child
who had come with her sister, was about to pass me by. But I was not to
be slighted in that way, particularly when I knew the answer; so, with
the air of one who, always at the foot, accidently spells a word right
and starts for the head, I spoke out loud and distinctly “Alleghany and
Monongahela,” glancing at my father just in time to catch a nod of
encouragement.
“The Nine” were taken by surprise, and instantly three pair of eyes with
glasses and six pair without glasses were brought to bear upon me. For
reasons best known to themselves, they asked _me_ a great variety of
questions, all of which I answered correctly, I believe; at least they
made no comment, and were evidently vastly amused with their new
specimen, asking me how old I was, and exchanging smiles at my reply,
“Thirteen, four weeks ago to-day.” One of my fellow-teachers, who sat
near me, whispered to her next neighbor, “She’s older than that, I
know;” for which remark I’ve never quite forgiven her. Arithmetic was
the last branch introduced, and as mathematics was rather my forte, I
had now no fears of failing—but I did! A question in Decimals puzzled
me, and coloring to my temples, I replied “I don’t know,” while two
undeniable tears dropped into my lap.
“Never mind, sis,” said one of the nine. “You know most everything else,
and have done bravely.”
I was as sure of my certificate then as I was fifteen minutes
afterwards, when a little slip of paper was given me, declaring me
competent to teach a common school. I thought it was all over, and was
adjusting mother’s shawl and tying on Juliet’s veil, when they asked me
to write something that they might see a specimen of my penmanship.
Taking the pen, I dashed off with a flourish “Rosa Lee,” at which I
thought they peered more curiously than need be—and one of them, Dr.
Clayton, a young man, and a handsome one, too, said something about its
being “very poetical.” He hadn’t seen the _negro song_ then.
The shadows of evening had long since fallen when we stopped at our
door, where we found mother anxiously waiting for us. Very wistfully she
looked in my face ere she asked the important question.
“Yes, I’ve got one,” said I, bounding from the buggy, “and I’d like to
be examined every day, it’s such fun.”
“Didn’t you miss a word?” asked Juliet.
“Oh, I’m so glad!” cried Lizzie.
“Feel _big_, don’t you?” suggested Charlie, while Anna inquired “if I’d
lost her pocket handkerchief!”