A SCHOOL SCENE.
"They had quite a time at school yesterday," said Nat to Charlie, one morning during the winter following their entrance into the factory.
"What was it? I have heard nothing."
"The teacher had a real tussle with Sam Drake, and for a little while it was doubtful who would be master. They both fell flat on the floor, tipped over the chair, and frightened the girls badly."
"What did the teacher attempt to punish him for?"
"He wrote a letter to one of the boys about the teacher, and said some hard things, and the teacher got hold of the letter and read it. Then he called him up and made him spell before the school some of the words he had spelled wrong in the letter, at which they all laughed till Sam refused to spell any more. Then he doubled up his fist at the teacher, and defied him to whip him."
"He ought to have been flogged," said Charlie; "I hope he got his deserts."
"If reports are true, he did. Though it was a hard battle, the teacher made him beg at last, and they say the committee will turn him out of school to-day."
As the facts in the case were not quite as reports would have them, we shall give a correct history of the affair. Nat had heard an exaggerated report, and communicated it just as he received it. But the teacher did not have a hard time at all in conquering the rebellious boy, and neither of them fell on the floor. Neither did Sam shake his fist at him, and defy him to strike. The case was this:
The teacher observed a little commotion among the scholars, and inferred that some sort of game was being secretly played. On this account he tried to be Argus-eyed, and soon discovered a paper, as he thought, passed along from one scholar to another, that created considerable sensation. When it reached John Clyde, the teacher inquired:
"John! what have you there?"
After some hesitation, John answered "a paper," at the same time making an effort to conceal it.
"Be careful, sir," said the teacher; "I will take that document," and so saying, he stepped quickly to John's seat, and took the paper from his hand.
It proved to be a letter from Samuel Drake to Alpheus Coombs, and read as follows:
ALFEUS KOOMS,—if you will trade nives with me as we talked yisterday it will be a bargin for you, mine is jist as i telled you, or the world is flat as a pancake. Rite back and mind nothin about old speticles i don't care a red cent for his regilations about riting letters in school i shall do it when i please, and if he don't like it, he may lump it, he is a reglar old betty anyhow, and i kinder thinks his mother don't know he is out if he should happen along your way with his cugel, you may give him my complerments and tell him that I live out here in the corner and hopes he'll keep a respecterble distance, now rite back at once and show old speticles that the mail will go in this school-house anyhow. Your old Frend
Samuel Drake.
We have given the letter just as it was written, with its lack of punctuation, bad spelling and all. Samuel was accustomed to call the teacher "old speticles," because he wore glasses. The letter is a key to the character and attainments of a class of bad boys in every community, when they are about fifteen years of age.
The teacher took the letter to his desk, and carefully read it over, and then called out to its author, in a loud voice,
"Samuel! come into the floor."
Samuel knew that his letter was discovered then, and he hesitated.
"Samuel! come into the floor I say," exclaimed the teacher again, in a tone that was truly emphatic.
Samuel started, and took his place in the floor.
"Now turn round," said the teacher, "and face the school."
Samuel did as he was commanded, not knowing what was coming.
"Now spell Alpheus," said the teacher.
Some of the scholars who had read the letter began to laugh, as they now saw the design of the teacher. Samuel had his eyes open by this time, and saw what was coming. He hesitated and hung down his head.
"Be quick, sir. You shall have a chance now to exhibit your spelling acquisitions."
Samuel dared not refuse longer, so he began,
"A-l-al-f-e-fe-u-s-us."
"Pronounce it, sir."
"Alfeus."
The scholars laughed heartily, and the teacher joined them, and for three minutes the school-room fairly rung with shouts.
"Now spell Coombs," said the teacher.
"K-double o-m-s, kooms."
Again there was a roar of laughter in the room, which the teacher did not wish to suppress.
"Spell knife now; you are so brilliant that the scholars would like to hear more."
"N-i-f-e."
The scholars laughed again in good earnest, and the teacher added, "That is not the way to spell a very sharp knife."
"Spell bargain."
"B-a-r-bar-g-i-n-gin, bargin."
"Such a kind of a bargain, I suppose, as a poor scholar makes, when he wastes time enough in one winter to make him a good speller," continued the teacher. When the laughter had ceased, he put out another word.
"Spell spectacles."
"S-p-e-t-spet-i-speti-c-l-e-s-cles, speticles."
Some of the scholars really shouted at this new style of orthography.
"I suppose that is the kind of glasses that 'old speticles' wears," said the teacher. "You do not appear to entertain a very good opinion of him. You may spell respectable."
"I shan't spell any more," answered Samuel in an insolent manner.
"Shan't spell any more! I command you to spell respectable."
"I shan't spell it," replied Samuel more defiantly.
In another instant the teacher seized him by the collar, and with one desperate effort sent him half across the school-room. He hit the chair in his progress and knocked it over, and the teacher hit his own foot against the corner of the platform on which the desk was raised, and stumbled, though he did not fall. From this, the report went abroad that there was a sort of mélee in school, and the teacher was flung upon the floor in the scuffle. By the time Samuel found himself on his back, the teacher stood over him with what the young rebel called a cugel (cudgel) in his letter, saying,
"Get upon your feet and spell respectable loud enough for every scholar to hear."
The boy saw it was no use to contend with such strength and determination, and he instantly obeyed, under great mortification.
"R-e-re-s-p-e-c-spec-respec-t-e-r-ter-respecter-b-l-e-ble, respecterble."
The matter had assumed so serious an aspect by this time that the scholars were quite sober, otherwise they would have laughed at this original way of spelling respectable.
"Hold out your hand now," said the teacher, and at once the hand was held out, and was severely ferruled.
"Now you can take your seat, and await the decision of the committee. I shall hand them your letter to-night, and they will decide whether to expel you from school or not."
Samuel went to his seat pretty thoroughly humbled, and the teacher embraced the opportunity to give the scholars some good advice. He was a good teacher, amiable, affectionate, and laborious, but firm and resolute. He was too strict to please such indolent boys as Samuel, who often tried him by his idleness and stupidity. His object in making him spell as he did was to mortify him by an exposure of his ignorance. His father had given him good opportunities to learn, but he had not improved them, so that he could spell scarcely better than scholars eight years old. Had he been a backward boy, who could make little progress, even with hard study, the teacher would not have subjected him to such mortification; but he was indolent, and his ignorance was solely the fruit of idleness. On the whole, it was about as good a lesson as he ever had, and was likely to be remembered a good while. The district generally sustained the teacher in his prompt efforts to subdue the vicious boy.
The committee considered the case on that evening, and decided that Samuel should be expelled from school. They were influenced to decide thus, in part, by his many instances of previous misconduct. He was habitually a troublesome scholar, and they concluded that the time had come to make an example of him. Their decision was communicated to him by the teacher on the following day, and he was accordingly expelled. When he went out, with his books under his arm, he turned round and made a very low bow, which, though he intended it as an indignity, really savored more of good manners than he was wont to show.
In the sequel, the reader will understand why this incident is narrated here, and, by the contrast with Nat's habits and course of life, will learn that the "boy is father of the man" that "idleness is the mother of vice," and that "industry is fortune's right hand, frugality her left."