Around the little cabin rose the great sheltering hills, their peaks a misty purple in the soft haze of a belated Indian summer. Below, Goose Creek, still little more than a rivulet, basked lazily in the sunshine.
At first the appetites were too keen to allow of much conversation, but at last Shad Bills laid down his knife and fork and looked around with a grin. “Has anybody heerd how the schoolmaster’s feelin’?” he suddenly inquired. “I ’lowed a-toppin’ off the Chris’mus doin’s with thet surprise war a leetle too much fer the old man.”
“I seen him this mornin’,” said Dan Gooch. “He war as peart as a Juny bug. The Twilligers give him an invite to eat turkey with them. Yes, sir,” he smiled reminiscently, “I reckon Goose Creek never see no sech doin’s as we had last night. I don’t rightly know as we’d ought ter let Tally slip off this-a-way without writin’ out a promise thet she’ll come back and teach the school next year.”
Sam Coyle grinned appreciatively. Not one of the men in the company could read or write. “I reckon her word of mouth’ll do. Tally’s boun’ ter come back all right,” her father declared.
“She can’t always be comin’ back to teach,” put in Gincy. “If you go to Commencement next spring maybe you’ll want Tally to have a diploma, too.”
Sam Coyle wisely refrained from a reply. That he had not looked with favour upon his daughter’s ambition to get an education was well known, and now that he had been proved in the wrong he did not propose to lay himself open to further criticism. However, he inwardly determined that Talitha should keep the Goose Creek school. The money was a great help to the family, and Dan Gooch would like nothing better than to have a chance to secure it for Gincy, he reasoned selfishly. Miss Howard shrewdly read the man’s thoughts, but she said nothing, although she inwardly resolved that Talitha should have her chance with the rest.
After the dinner was over and the dishes cleared away, the young people went to the schoolhouse. The maps and pictures were to be brought home for safekeeping, although there was no probable danger of their being molested. Besides, the young teacher wanted to see the place again before leaving for Bentville.
There was a strong odour of pine as Martin flung open the door. The despoiled tree still stood on the platform. Miss Howard had put the tinsel trimmings carefully away for future Christmases.
“It certainly looks as though we had had a good time last night,” said Talitha, glancing around. “Billy, I think I’ll let you and Sudie sweep out when you have a chance. You may keep the greens up as long as you choose; they’ll last some time. Good-bye until next summer,” she said to herself as she reluctantly turned away.
They stopped a moment at the little heap of ashes and charred logs below the new structure. “It’s a fitting monument for the old shack we used to call a schoolhouse,” said Martin reflectively. “When I remember the days we spent in it, I—”