_Saturday Night._
Mrs. Salyer came in Thursday bringing some large pokes of beans, a gift
to the school, and a saddle-bag full of apples for her boys. Next
morning while supervising bed-making, I happened to glance into the box
on the wall where Keats had put the apples the night before, and, to my
surprise, saw that they were all gone. "We et half of 'em off'n'on in
the night, and Keats traded t'other half off to Geordie before we got
up," explained Hen,--the three occupy the same bed.
On my idle inquiry as to what Geordie gave for them, Keats produced with
pride a mangy little purse, about the size of a dollar, looking as if it
had been well-chewed.
"Why, that wasn't a fair trade," I said, "one apple would have been all
that purse was worth. I must speak to Geordie about that."
Of course in the rush later I forgot it. Moses and Zachariah having
departed without farewells later in the day, I gave Geordie permission
next morning to go to an uncle's over on Bald Eagle and bring back his
elder brother, Absalom, to the school. Before leaving, he "gave me his
hand" to be back "before the sun-ball draps this evening." The sun-ball
drapped and rose and drapped again, however, before he returned; and
last night as the boys were starting to bed, Philip asked me if I knew
how much Geordie had made on those apples he traded Keats out of. "He
sold seven to the day-schools for a cent apiece, and six to the manimal
trainer for a dime, and three to Taulbee for a big gingercake he brung
with him, and I give him a good taw for a couple more, and he traded the
two little wormy ones that was left to Keats for a purse."
"What purse?" I inquired.
"That 'ere one Keats swapped him all the apples for at first,--the one
you said weren't worth more'n one apple. Keats told him you said so, and
he said he would prove it were by giving Keats two-down for it, if he
wanted; and Keats was glad to make the trade."
"Do you mean to tell me," I asked, "that Geordie made seventeen cents, a
gingercake, a taw _and_ the purse, out of that trade, and Keats lost
everything but two wormy apples?"
Philip scratched his head thoughtfully. "By grab, he skinned the little
Salyer, didn't he? Gee, I wisht I was a born trader like him, dag gone
his ole soul!"
When Geordie returned to-night with Absalom, his jaw was tied up in a
red bandana, he wore a look of patient suffering, and explained that he
had had such a sorry time with toothache he could not return yesterday,
indignantly repudiating Philip's suggestion that he had just wanted to
stay and see a big time with the Yontses and drink their moonshine.
Later, when, while filling a hot-water bag for him, I regretfully spoke
to him on the subject of cheating in trades, he was deeply hurt, said he
had traded the apples back to Keats only to favor him, and confided in
me that he aimed to be a preacher when he growed up.
_Sunday Night._
During the ear-washing this morning, I had another round with Philip,
whose ears are always the grimiest, hair the most unkempt, clothes the
most tattered. "Philip," I said, with a groan, "you could be the
handsomest boy on the place if you only would!"
He replied contemptuously, "Handsome never earnt his salt; when a man
steps in the door, looks flies up the chimley!"
In the midst of our altercation, Absalom sauntered into my room, took
his stand before my mirror, and proceeded to give his hair a good
dressing with my brush and comb.
Later, as I saw Geordie walking to church with a Bible under his arm,
heard his heart-felt singing of the hymns, and watched his pious,
soap-shining face, I wondered I could ever have thought he meant to
cheat anybody.
The Trojan War made fine progress to-night,--it is only on Saturday and
Sunday nights that we can have stories, as other evenings must be spent
in study. From the first, Killis has identified himself with his famous
namesake, while Nucky has as inevitably taken sides with the Trojans and
Hector, so much so that the boys call him "Trojan." This evening he was
scathing in his denunciation of Achilles. "Gee," he said, "I wisht them
Greeks had a-had a _man_ along. Now if Blant had a-been there, you'd a
seed some fighting! He wouldn't have sulled around in no tent none!
He'd a-got the drap on Hector allus-ago, same as he done on Elhannon and
Todd and Dalt Cheever when they laywayed him in April. He was riding
along past the cliff where they was hid in the bushes, and heared the
click of the lock when Elhannon cocked his trigger, and whirled around
and poured six bullets into 'em before they could fire their guns,
killing Elhannon and very nigh killing t'other two."
_Wednesday._
I expected that with Iry's abilities in the way of spelling, he would be
the pride and prodigy of the school; but I am pained to learn from his
teacher that he can do nothing but spell. It seems that in the
five-month district school he has attended three terms over on Rakeshin,
nothing was taught but reading and spelling,--two lessons a day in the
former, two in the latter,--thus does our noble commonwealth do her duty
when she does it at all! Iry has had to go back into the first grade to
learn the rudiments of arithmetic, geography, grammar, etc.
Last night Taulbee, the eldest, who is very opinionated, took occasion
to enter a general protest against innovations such as nightgowns,
tooth-brushes, fine-combs and the like, and wound up by arraigning the
school methods of cooking. "Them little small biscuits you-all have
don't make half of a good bite," he declared: "You women," he continued,
severely, "think you know so much, and lay down so many laws, and,
by Ned, you don't even know how to bile beans!"
"How should beans be cooked?" I inquired.
"A pot of string beans calls for a big chunk of fat pork and about four
handful' of lard throwed in, to be fitten to eat," he said; "I haint
tasted a right bean sence I come here."
This afternoon arrived a solemn little man of eleven from over on
Clinch, named Hosea Fields, to take the one vacant place.
When Jason came up from his bath to-night, he rolled up his gown sleeve
and held out a pink arm to me. "Just feel my muscle," he said, "Oh, I'm
_so_ nervy!"
[Illustration: "'Just feel my muscle,' he said, 'Oh, I'm so nervy!'"]
"I reckon he is," said Keats, "I seed him lay out three-at-a-time of
them little primaries at recess to-day."
Last time it was two, now it is three. Of course these reports must be
exaggerated,--such a baby could not be so warlike. Taking him in my arms
and giving him a good hug, I said, "Jason, dear, I want you to remember
that it is wrong for little boys to fight."
Objections to bathing have been withdrawn, and the boys for some nights
have gone to the wash-house with such alacrity that my suspicions were
aroused, and I found they were taking advantage of their nude condition,
and freedom from interruption, to do great stunts of fighting, the
bathing being entirely lost sight of. I have been compelled to make a
rule that each boy must present himself in his clean gown after his
bath at my door for inspection of head, ears, neck and feet.