This time the woman meant her blows to smart, for the poor frightened
girl shrieked at the top of her voice. In the midst of the whipping the
blows ceased abruptly, and the woman asked another question: "Are you
going to fall in the snow again?"
Thowin gave her bad passwood another trial. We heard her say feebly,
"No! No!"
With this the woman hid away her half-worn slipper, and led the child
out, stroking her black shorn head. Perhaps it occurred to her that
brute force is not the solution for such a problem. She did nothing to
Judéwin nor to me. She only returned to us our unhappy comrade, and left
us alone in the room.
During the first two or three seasons misunderstandings as ridiculous as
this one of the snow episode frequently took place, bringing
unjustifiable frights and punishments into our little lives.
Within a year I was able to express myself somewhat in broken English.
As soon as I comprehended a part of what was said and done, a
mischievous spirit of revenge possessed me. One day I was called in from
my play for some misconduct. I had disregarded a rule which seemed to me
very needlessly binding. I was sent into the kitchen to mash the turnips
for dinner. It was noon, and steaming dishes were hastily carried into
the dining-room. I hated turnips, and their odor which came from the
brown jar was offensive to me. With fire in my heart, I took the wooden
tool that the paleface woman held out to me. I stood upon a step, and,
grasping the handle with both hands, I bent in hot rage over the
turnips. I worked my vengeance upon them. All were so busily occupied
that no one noticed me. I saw that the turnips were in a pulp, and that
further beating could not improve them; but the order was, "Mash these
turnips," and mash them I would! I renewed my energy; and as I sent the
masher into the bottom of the jar, I felt a satisfying sensation that
the weight of my body had gone into it.
Just here a paleface woman came up to my table. As she looked into the
jar, she shoved my hands roughly aside. I stood fearless and angry. She
placed her red hands upon the rim of the jar. Then she gave one lift and
stride away from the table. But lo! the pulpy contents fell through the
crumbled bottom to the floor I She spared me no scolding phrases that I
had earned. I did not heed them. I felt triumphant in my revenge, though
deep within me I was a wee bit sorry to have broken the jar.
As I sat eating my dinner, and saw that no turnips were served, I
whooped in my heart for having once asserted the rebellion within me.