"What's Satu'day got ter do with hit?" He asked again, unconscious of the other's growing ill humor.
"You darned boob," Bob laughed, "don't you know that Saturday is a holiday? It always is! They never have school on that day!"
"D'ye mean they lose a whole day a week?" Dale cried, working himself into a rage and giving the Colonel that same unpleasant, startled feeling of witnessing something human out of gear. "That all that time is jest plumb wasted, when I mought be larnin'? Hain't I come hyar fer her ter teach me? Hain't I got the right? Hain't hit her business?"
"When Miss Jane doesn't feel like teaching," Bob began, turning a shade pale and becoming unnaturally calm, "Saturday or no Saturday, she isn't going to teach; and the Colonel and I'll see anyone in hell first. Remember that, for it's a right important thing."
"Lord have pity on our mendacious world," the old gentleman sighed.
The mountaineer had not intended to give offense. As a matter of fact, he held Jane in too sacred regard to suffer her the slightest inconvenience—but it was a regard for the teacher, for the possessor of that magic wand which would point him along the path of learning. She inspired him with no other personality. To get into school had been for so long the precious beacon of his desire that physical comforts or discomforts were transient incidents to be utterly ignored. He would have ignored his own bodily ailments, elbowed his way through pain of flesh and weariness of mind, in an onward rush for that one thing his soul craved—Learning. It craved, it blindly implored him, abjured him with curses and sweet words, until he had reached a state where obedience became an uncompromisable law. Nothing else came within his mental horizon, and thus it was that Bob's words perplexed, rather than offended, him.
The Colonel, ever ready to quiet fermenting anger, laid his hand genially on the homespun-covered shoulder.
"You will find, my ambitious young friend," he said, "that it is better in the long run to rest occasionally. Nature requires it, and, as you yourself have said, Nature is the true standard to follow."
"Nature don't rest," he doggedly retorted. "Trees don't rest from growin'!"
"They do, indeed," declared the Colonel, not quite sure of his ground, but willing to venture it. "Every night they rest, and so do all growing things."