ABOUT GIRLS
In Farmington the girls were of small account. Of course we had to
tolerate them, for all of us had sisters, and then, too, we were told
that we ought to treat them more kindly than the boys: but still we
never really wanted them around.
The girls were much prettier than the boys, and they had on clean
clothes, and generally shoes, and they wore red or blue ribbons around
their necks and white or colored sashes around their waists, and their
hair was combed and fixed in long twists and tied with ribbon every day;
and it was almost always as smooth and nice at night as when they came
to school in the morning. As for us boys, our mothers combed our hair in
the morning before we went to school, and occasionally with a fine-tooth
comb; and when we left home it was usually parted on the side, and had
no snarls, and lay down smoothly on the top of our heads,—but of course
it was different before we got home. Sometimes even on our way to school
we would turn somersaults, or walk on our hands, or “skin a cat” on the
limb of a tree, and then our caps would fall off and our hair get pretty
badly mussed. Then, too, we often ran and got warm, and had to take off
our caps and fan ourselves, and run our hands through our hair; and
sometimes we wrestled and fell down, and things like that; and when we
were not playing ball we often went in swimming at noon, and of course
we could not keep our hair straight, and did not much care or try. But
the girls were different; they never would do anything that hurt their
hair, and if it got mussed the least little bit they always stopped and
combed it out so that it looked almost as well as when they went to
school. Generally they had little pocket looking-glasses; but even if
they had not, any of the girls would help the others to comb and tie
their hair. But no boy would ever think of asking another boy to help
him to fix his hair; if he had done anything like this, he would have
known pretty well what he might expect to get.
We used to wonder how the girls could keep their clothes so smooth and
nice; for many of them had a long way to walk to school, and the road
was dusty, and the dirt got on them from the long grass and weeds. We
thought the reason they looked so well was that they were different from
the boys. All of us liked to watch the girls, for they were so pretty
and behaved so well. Their side of the schoolhouse was always the
cleaner, and they never threw things on the floor, and their desks
looked better, for the books and the slates were not tumbled around as
they were on our side of the room. And there was no writing on their
desks, nor carvings made with jack-knives; and in every way one could
tell which was their side of the house, even if no scholars were in the
room.
The girls always behaved better in school than the boys; of course they
whispered some, and giggled quite a bit, but they hardly ever threw
apples, or brought in bugs, or set pins in the seat, or played jokes, or
contradicted the teacher, or refused to do what she said. As a rule,
they got their lessons better than the boys, and had more headmarks in
spelling; and the teacher hardly ever made them stand on the floor, and
did not keep them in at noon or recess or after school nearly as often
as she did the boys. Then, if one girl told another that she could have
a piece of her apple at lunch, or a bite of her stick candy, and took a
pencil and marked off how much she could have, she would always bite in
the right place, and never take any more,—if anything, she took a little
less. But if a boy held up his apple and told another boy that he could
take a little bite, not so far down as the core, very likely the boy
would have to pull his hand back quick to keep his fingers from being
bitten off. Really, no boy who was not green would let another boy take
a bite of his apple, or his candy, or his gum. If he really wanted to
give any of it away or trade it for something, he always took out his
knife and cut off just the part he wanted to give away, or else he bit
it out himself without taking any chances.
In the games we played, the girls were of no use; they could not run, or
jump, or climb a tree, or even throw a ball or a stone, or do anything
that had to be done to play a game. Sometimes they stood around and
watched us boys, and coaxed us to choose them in, and sometimes we let
them play just as we did the little fellows. But if they ever played
“fox and geese” or “pump-pullaway,” they were sure to get caught the
first thing, and they hurt the game. And when they had to catch you, of
course you couldn’t run right through and knock them down just as if
they were boys. Sometimes they coaxed us to let them play ball; but they
never could hit the ball, and if they did it only went a little ways,
and they couldn’t run to the first base, and you never knew where they
were going to throw, and they were always in the way when you were
running, and you were afraid to hit the ball as hard as you could, or to
throw it very hard, when they were around. They were not much good to
play “I spy,” for they never could hide very well. If they got behind a
tree, their dresses would stick out, and they couldn’t climb up on any
high place, or jump down, or lie down behind a log so that you couldn’t
see them; and even if they had a chance to get in first, they ran so
slow that they were always behind when they reached the post.
Of course they could jump rope pretty well, but boys seldom played such
games as jumping the rope; it wasn’t really any game at all. And then
the girls always wanted you to help to turn the rope, and maybe there
would be only a girl at the other end. They did not quarrel with the
teachers, and sometimes they told on us boys when we did something the
teachers said we mustn’t do. When any of the boys got whipped hard in
school, the girls cried and made a fuss; they never could stand anything
like boys. Always at noon when we wanted to play ball or go in swimming,
they would coax us to play “needle’s eye,” or “Sally Waters,” or some
such silly game. And in the winter, when we were sliding down hill, they
never had a sled of their own, but would always want to ride with us;
and we always had to be careful, and go only in the safest places, or
they would fall off and get hurt and cry.
When we went skating, they wanted us to draw them on a sled on the ice,
and they never dared go anywhere unless the ice was thick. If it bent
the least little bit, they ran away and cried for fear their brothers
would get drowned. When they had skates, they never would go out on the
river where the water was over their heads; and they were afraid of
holes in the ice, or of our building a fire on the ice, and we always
had to put on and take off their skates. We never could pull the straps
tight, because it hurt their feet and made them cold; and then their
skates would get loose all the time, and we had to fix them; and they
couldn’t go far away on the ice, for they were afraid they wouldn’t get
back before the school-bell or the supper-bell rang. Then, if they went
out skating, or anywhere, after dark, they could not stay late, and we
had to stop and go home with them when they got the least bit cold. They
never thought they could go home alone after dark, but they could have
gone as well as not if they had only thought so. Sometimes they went
sleigh-riding with the boys in a big sled; but this was not half so much
fun as hitching to cutters or jumping on sleds, and the girls never
could do this.
When we went to see any of the other boys, we never went into the house.
There was nothing to do in the house except to take off your hat and sit
in a chair and tell the boy’s mother how your mother was. We always
played around the yard, or went into the barn or out in the woodshed,
where we could have some fun. But the girls couldn’t go out and play in
the yard or in the barn or in the woodshed, and if they did they could
not play anything that was good fun, but they would tease us to come
into the house and look at the album while they told us who all the old
pictures were, and would want us to stay in the sitting-room, or go into
the parlor and hear them play a lot of tunes on the organ, and sing
“Shall we gather at the river,” and “Home, Sweet Home,” and duets, and
“Darling, I am growing old,” and such things, and that would spoil all
the fun. And after they got through playing the organ and singing, if it
was not time to go home they wanted us to play “Authors.” This was the
only kind of cards that girls could play.
They never were any good to go fishing, but they always wanted to go,
and we had to bait their hooks, and take off the fishes if they caught
any, but they hardly ever did; and they talked about how sorry they were
for the fishes and the worms, but they let us do all the work. And if
sometimes they went hickory-nutting or chest-nutting with us, we let
them help to pick up the nuts while we had to climb the trees and shake
them off; but they couldn’t carry any of them home, and when we came to
fences they never would climb over them for fear they would tear their
dresses, and we always had to go away around until we could find bars or
a gate or take down the fence; and they were afraid of cows and dogs,
and tried to keep us from going anywhere, and bothered us and held us
back. And then when we took them we had to be careful what we said, and
could not run or walk very fast or go very far, and we always had to get
back at a certain time, and couldn’t stay out after dark, or go across
any water, or get into swamps or places where they could get their feet
wet and catch cold.
Of course they got up parties, and wanted us to go; but these were
always in the houses, and we had to wear our best clothes and our shoes,
and be careful not to run against a chair, or tip over the lamp, or
break anything, and we had to keep still, and couldn’t go outdoors, and
had to play “needle’s-eye” and “post-office” and charades and
“blindman’s-buff.” Of course we had a little cake and sometimes some
ice-cream, but never half enough, and we were always glad when the party
was out.
In fact, in our boys’ world there was no room for girls, except that we
always liked to look at them and think how pretty and clean they were.