Narrow Escape from Drowning.--Return Home.--Severe
Illness.--James determines to fit Himself for a
Teacher.--Geauga Seminary.--Personal Appearance.--Dr
Robinson's Verdict.
One dark, stormy night, just as the "Evening Star" was leaving a long
reach of slack water, James was called out of his berth to tend the
bow-line. As he began to uncoil the rope, it caught on the edge of the
deck; he pulled several times before he could extricate it, but suddenly
it gave way with such force as to throw him headlong into the water.
The whole crew were soundly sleeping, the boat glided over him, and as
he could not swim he felt there was no hope. Suddenly he caught hold of
something hard; it was the rope which had become entangled in a crevice
of the deck and become so tight that it was an easy matter to climb up
by it into the boat.
As he stood there in his dripping clothes, rescued from a watery grave,
he took the rope and tried to see how it happened to catch in the
crevice. Six hundred times he threw it, but it would not kink in the
same manner again.
"No one but God could have saved my life by such a thread as that!" he
exclaimed, and then he began to wonder if he could not make a better use
of his miraculously-spared life than by spending it upon a canal-boat.
A severe attack of chills and fever followed this night's drenching and
exposure. He thought of his mother and her hopes for him, and made up
his mind to return home as soon as he was able.
His mother was overjoyed when, a few weeks later, he stood before her
and told her of his changed plans. But again the malaria asserted its
sway over him, and for a long time he lay between life and death. It was
six months before he was able to do anything, and then to his mother's
delight he told her he was going to fit himself to be a teacher.
A young man named Samuel Bates (now a clergyman in Madison, Ohio,) had
charge that winter of the district-school in Orange. He was a frequent
visitor at Mrs. Garfield's, and between James and himself there sprang
up a warm friendship. The young teacher had attended the Geauga Seminary
in Chester, and was full of his school experiences. He told James how
economically one could live, by clubbing together with other students,
and the result was that in the following spring, Garfield and his two
cousins, William and Henry Boynton, went to Chester and rented a room
just across the street from the seminary. The house belonged to a poor
widow, who agreed to look after their room and do their washing for a
small sum. They bought their own cooking-stove, and immediately set up
house-keeping. James had only eleven dollars in his pocket, but he hoped
to earn more before that was gone.
The academy was a plain wooden building of three stories, and could
accommodate about a hundred pupils. The library connected with it
contained a hundred and fifty volumes, which seemed to James a perfect
mine of wealth. Among the pupils at that time attending the academy was
a studious young girl by the name of Lucretia Rudolph, but the boys and
girls seldom saw each other except in their classes, and James was so
shy and awkward he did not care much for the society of young ladies. He
watched Miss Rudolph, however, with quiet admiration. Her sweet face,
her pleasant manners, and fine scholarship, made her a universal
favorite, and little by little a hearty friendship sprang up between the
two students who had so many aims in common.
The principal of the academy at that time was an eccentric old gentleman
by the name of Daniel Branch. His wife, who was his chief assistant and
equally eccentric, was trying to introduce into the school a grammar of
her own construction, which was totally at variance with all other
systems. For instance, she insisted that _but_ should be parsed as a
verb, in the imperative mood, with the sense of _to be out_; she also
declared that _and_ was another verb in the imperative mood, and meant
_add_!
Young Garfield, who had been thoroughly drilled in Kirkman's Grammar at
the district school, constantly contended against these new ideas which,
to his clear, well-balanced brain, presented nothing but absurdity. It
is to be hoped that the other scholars followed his sage example, and
that Branch's idiosyncrasy was soon banished from the school curriculum.
James' personal appearance at this time is thus described by one of his
friends:
"His clear, blue eyes, and free, open countenance were remarkably
prepossessing. His height was exaggerated by the coarse, satinet
trousers he wore, which were far outgrown, and reached only half-way
down the tops of his cowhide boots. It was his one suit, and the
threadbare coat was so short in the sleeves that his long arms had a
singularly awkward look. His coarse, slouched hat, much the worse for
wear, covered a shock of unkempt yellow hair that fell down over his
shoulders like a Shaker's."
Without consulting any one, James resolved to be examined by a physician
before going on with his studies.
He went to Dr. J. P. Robinson, of Bedford, who happened to be in the
neighborhood, and said to him,--
"You are a physician, and know the fibre that is in men. I want you to
examine me, and then say frankly whether or no it is worth while for me
to take a course of liberal study. It is my earnest desire to do so, but
if you advise me not to attempt it, I shall feel content."
The doctor, in speaking of this incident, says:--
"I felt that I was on my sacred honor, and the young man looked as
though he felt himself on trial. I had had considerable experience as a
physician, but here was a case much different from any other I had ever
had. I examined his head, and saw that there was a magnificent brain
there. I sounded his lungs, and found them strong and capable of making
good blood. I felt his pulse, and saw that there was an engine capable
of sending the blood up to the brain. I had seen many strong, physical
systems with warm feet, but cold, sluggish brain; and those who
possessed such systems would simply sit around and doze. At the end of a
fifteen minutes' careful examination of this kind, we rose, and I said:
'Go on; follow the promptings of your ambition. You have the brain of a
Webster, and you have the physical proportions that will back you in the
most herculean efforts. Work, work hard, do not be afraid of
overworking; and you will make your mark.'"