Running to Waste: The Story of a Tomboy

by George M. Baker

CHAPTER V.
IN SCHOOL AND OUT.

The dazzlingly white school-house opposite Captain Thompson’s mansion was not used for the public school, which, under the state law, was necessarily kept in operation at least four months in the year, and for whose support the people of Cleverly were taxed. That institution was situated at a point nearer the fore side, a short distance from the main street, and was in rather a dilapidated condition. In those days country people had not that pride in handsome and commodious school-houses which is now eminently a characteristic of New England villages; and this crazy edifice was likely to serve the purpose for which it had been erected, years and years before, until it should crumble to pieces with age or be swept into a pile of kindling-wood by the fury of a March gale.

Captain Thompson, as a member of the school committee, had endeavored many times to have the old shell supplanted by a better building, or at least placed on a more secure footing; but in vain. His associates—Messrs. Pennywise and Poundfoolish—strictly opposed reconstruction in any form.

“It was good enough for us; and what was good enough for us is good enough for our young ones,” was not a very sound argument; but, as it satisfied the majority, the captain was obliged to give way. He then carried the matter before the town meeting, with no better success. There was a strong opposition to any measure he brought forward for the improvement of the school estate. Not even a bundle of shingles or a pound of nails could be had for repairs. The “good-enough” argument prevailed here; and the captain was vanquished.

Then his obstinacy asserted itself. He withdrew from the school committee, bought the land opposite his house, took men from his shipyard, hired all the carpenters he could find, and in less than two months had a very neat and commodious school-house of his own. This he leased to Rufus Drinkwater, the best teacher the public school ever had,—a man generally esteemed by the good folks of Cleverly,—and commenced a warfare against the ancient establishment. Drinkwater’s term opened a month earlier than the public, the charge for tuition was very low, and the captain gave notice that he was prepared to pay the bills, if children wanted to come to “my school,” and parents felt unable to incur further expense for schooling than that to which they were subjected by the state tax.

The committee-men laughed when they saw “Thompson’s Folly,” as they styled the new edifice, going up. But when they saw the children going in,—and a very respectable procession they made,—and looked into their almost deserted quarters, they groaned in spirit, forgot the dignity of office, and railed in unbecoming terms at the “underhand tricks” of their successful opponent.

There was a satisfied look upon the captain’s face as he stepped into the road Monday morning, followed by his man-of-all-work. About the door of the school-house were gathered a dozen or so of young people, awaiting the appearance of the teacher. It was only half past eight; and this assembly at so early an hour gave promise of a successful opening.