CHAPTER VI
I rose early next morning, full of good resolutions; and, to put the first in execution, found father, and asked his pardon. He granted it kindly, and said, with a smile:
“I have determined to remove you to the Academy. You are getting almost too large for Miss Hester to manage. I will continue your tuition pay to her for the remainder of the session, as it is our fault that you leave her. You may remain at home to-day, as it is Friday, but on Monday you must commence with Mr. Morris.”
I was perfectly delighted with the transfer, as it would add considerably to my dignity, for I had long looked forward to entering the Academy as an era in life.
As soon as breakfast was over, I ran around to Miss Hester’s school house, to make my acknowledgment to her. She was very kind in her manner toward me, and did not seem to bear any ill will for my conduct of the day before. When I mentioned the subject of my removal, as I did not say anything about the continuation of the pay, the old lady seemed very much to regret my leaving, was confident we could get on pleasantly together, and felt assured that I would behave, for the rest of the term, like a little gentleman. As I was not equally certain on all these points, I told her that father thought it best, and that I must do as he wished. I therefore got up my books, slate and stationery, and marched out of the little house where I had spent so many happy hours, followed by the envious eyes of all the scholars, who were still to slave it out there. I met Ned on my way home, and we had a short conversation, making arrangements to desk together, and vowing eternal fealty and fidelity to each other.
I put my books away as soon as I reached home, and ran over to Dr. Mayland’s to see Lulie. Much to my disappointment she had gone to school, so nothing was left for me but to mope about all day in idleness. There is nothing in the world so wearisome as idleness without company. In vain I lounged over town seeking amusement. All my companions were at school, and everybody and everything seemed to have something to do. I strolled down to the wharves to find some relief in the sights down there, but all seemed intent on some occupation, and I could find no sympathy for my solitude. The loaded dray rattled a reproof at me as it passed; the smiths tinkering over old boilers hammered work into my ears; the clerk, busy with his marking brush, and the brawny wharf hands, rolling the sticky barrels hither and thither, were living lectures to me. Even the horse, at the unloading vessel, pulled up the weight, and backed again, with a stern disregard of his own pleasure. An old black rosin raft, floating lazily down the tide, was the only thing in sight at all congenial, and that was too far out in the river to be reached.
The idle boy in the country may find pleasure where there are so many objects to amuse: the brook with its fish, the toy mill with its flutter wheel, the barn yard with calves to be broken to the yoke, the orchard and plum nursery, all help to pass the time; but woe to the idle in the crowded thoroughfare!
Time is the only coachman who drives exactly by his schedule, and with all my impatience Monday did not come till Monday morning. I was too eager not to be equally punctual, and at nine o’clock precisely I entered Mr. Morris’s school room. How different it was from Miss Hester’s! Boys of every size, from the six foot youth to the little lad of my own height, were ranged, two and two, at their desks about the room. Most of the small ones manifested a strong desire to stamp my appearance indelibly on their memory, by an intense stare. The larger ones scarce noticed me; perhaps turning their heads to see who had disturbed the majestic silence of the hall.
Mr. Morris called me to his stand, and, after a few questions, assigned me to a class and a desk. I took my seat, arranged my books, and then, not feeling so much abashed as at Miss Hester’s, I looked about me with more confidence and closer scrutiny. ‘Twas the same school room and boys that every one has seen; the dignified big boys, turning over the leaves of their lexicons, and running their fingers through their hair in the most erudite manner, occasionally spitting in the boxes at the sides of their desks, as if half their dignity depended on their mode of expectorating; half grown boys reclining in various positions, but chiefly sitting on one foot, while the other hung down, tapping against the sides of the bench; and little chaps, some studying, some talking, but most of them resting their cheeks upon their crossed hands laid flat upon their desks, while they stared at the “new boy.”
My experience at Miss Hester’s, however, had taught me to accommodate myself to circumstances, so I made myself easy in my new quarters, and at the morning respite went out boldly with the rest, to join in the amusements.
The story of our difficulty at Miss Hester’s had reached most of the boys through their younger brothers, who attended her school, and quite a throng gathered around me to question and admire, for the mere fact of my having had a difficulty at all, and having left the school, rendered me at once the hero and martyr of the occasion in their eyes. I related the affair with as much gusto as I could assume, and felt as proud of my insubordination as Cato did of his economy. As I concluded my recital, one of the lexicon dignitaries strode up, and, looking over the heads of those around me, remarked carelessly:
“Is that the little devil who turned his teacher out? If he tries his hand here, I’ll bet Jep will take the spunk out of him.”
I could not comprehend his words, but I formed a terrible idea of Jep, who was so given to the extraction of spunk, and inwardly resolved that I would carefully avoid all acquaintance with him. I afterwards learned that it was an abbreviation of Mr. Morris’s given name, Jepthah. This reassured me, and I debated for some time whether to test Jep’s extracting powers, and preserve my reputation among my schoolmates, or assert over myself at least my moral courage, and heed my mother’s words of advice in regard to my deportment. At last I resolved on the latter course of conduct, and gave up all thoughts of resisting authority.
At the close of the week Mr. Morris said to the school:
“Remember, boys, next is composition week, and I do not want a single one to fail to write an essay. You can select your own themes, but you must receive assistance from no one.”
I was very much astonished, for the thought of writing an essay or composition had never entered my mind. To express my ideas on paper, and then read them out to the whole school! ‘Twas a task in my eyes to appall a statesman. Still, I was not one to give up easily, and, possessing no small share of self confidence, I determined to do the best I could. For days my brain was racked to find a subject on which I could say anything at all. My mind seemed a perfect blank, with not even the dim shadow of a thought which I might evolve into distinctness. After awhile I began to try over different topics, but none appeared fruitful. I tried first on Truth; but I could find no way to begin but by asking, “What is Truth?” – a question I could not answer, so I gave that up. Then I tried “Vacation;” but here my only opening was an abrupt recountal of its scenes and pleasures, and these were too much identified with Lulie to be made public, so I abandoned that. The various animals came in for a share of consideration, but I could not find one of sufficient fecundity to bring forth an essay. The week had almost gone, and still I was themeless; when one day, at the dinner table, father jingled the ice in his glass, and made some remark about the strangeness of the fact that water, a liquid, could so change its nature as to become solid, merely by the absence of heat. Suddenly it popped into my head that I would write about ice. I bounced up, ran into the library, and, after an hour’s hard labor, appeared with the following:
ICE.
Ice is frozen water. Water, dry so, is soft, and can be moved with the finger or a stick; and also can be poured out. But when it frezes it gets num and stiff, and can’t be sturd, and won’t run down. ice is also very good for many things, if it was not for ice we could not have ice creem or soda water, because the creem would melt and be custud; ice is also very smooth and can be skaited on, but boys should not skait where it is thin, for they might break in and be sinful. ai boy once skaited on the sabbath and got drownd. To look at ice ought to make us want to study, so we can learn all about it, and about the people who live where it grows thick and can be driven with dogs upon. so I will put up my writing and try to study some.
Your afextionate scolar,JOHN SMITH.
P. S. – A eastern king would not believe the traveller when he told him about thick ice.
This postscript I added as a display of my knowledge of history, which I feared would appear pedantic in the body of the composition, but would be striking and casual at its close.
This important production I folded, endorsed with my name, and laid it away till Friday evening. Before handing it in, I read it to father and mother. I construed their smiles into compliments, and carried it to Mr. Morris with no small degree of satisfaction. Addison never felt more sure of praise than I did; and yet the following week ‘twas returned to me a perfect Joseph’s coat of red ink corrections and erasures. Væ literatis!
But compositions were nothing to my next appearance in the school, for we were soon required to declaim. Here again there was trouble in the selection of a suitable piece for declamation; but I at length found a piece which I thought was admirably adapted to my style, and, preparing it carefully, I awaited with impatience the first evening of our practice.
It came at last, and, as I saw the “first” scholars walk up the rostrum with dignity, and with grace of manner and well modulated voice, declaim beautiful selections, I felt that nothing was easier, and in my self confidence pitied the poor blockheads, of which there were not a few present, who drawled out their speeches in such an awkward and confused way. I was considerably worried, however, as Mr. Morris came down the roll, to find that no less than three of the smaller boys had selected exactly the same piece I had; still, I gathered encouragement from the fact that they all spoke it badly, and that my effort would show to a still better advantage after theirs. I was startled from my complacent comparisons by the loud tones of Mr. Morris, calling out:
“John Smith, you will next declaim!”
It is strange how easily confused and startled we are by the unexpected pronunciation of our names in public; the simple utterance of mine, on this occasion, overturned all my confidence and self-reliance, and I rose from my seat with a hair-rising sensation that took away my last hope of distinction.
I ascended the rostrum with that peculiarly awkward feeling of being in somebody else’s skin, which fitted badly, and was especially tight about the cheeks and eyes. And my hands! I had used them in a thousand ways, but now, for the first time, became really and painfully aware of their existence. I had hitherto regarded them as an indispensable, though unconsciously possessed, part of my anatomy; but I now looked upon them as excessively inconvenient appurtenances, and I would have given a finger almost to have had them hung out of sight on my back. However, there they were and I had to dispose of them. After making my bow with my little finger on the seam of my pants, I put both hands for safe keeping in my trowsers’ pockets. They could not, however, long remain there, for, as I placed that idiotic youth upon the “burning deck,” out they came for a gesture, which finished, to give them something to do I put them to pulling down my vest, which had an unaccountable tendency to sever all connection with my pants. The flames now had to be shown
– ”round him o’er the dead,”
and my hands nobly left my vest for action. Coming again to me idle, I sent one to my pocket, and the other to my mouth, where it remained during the greater part of my speech, spoiling out the words as fast as they issued from that orifice.
My embarrassment and confused state of ideas also developed other startling blunders, which cooler moments would have corrected. The boys, in their naturally perverted disposition, had quite a habit of transposing the first letters of words in a sentence, exchanging with one word part of another, thereby creating a language that Cardinal Mezzofanti could never have mastered. With my imitative tendencies, I had no sooner entered the school than I caught the habit in all its force; and talked in this perverted style so constantly that I was an animated Etruscan hieroglyph to all at home. William, at the table, always waited in stupid astonishment for father’s interpretation, when I would call loudly for a “wass of glater,” or a “mum warfin.”
On this occasion of declamation, I fully repented of my maladialectic propensity, for, do what I would, the words would come out twisted out of all human semblance.
Mr. Morris, in our private practice, required each one to announce the subject of his speech; so, troubled as I have described by my hands and tongue, I thus declaimed:
Basicianco
The stoy bood on the durning beck,
Whence all but flem had hid,
The lims that flate the wrettle back
Rone shound him do’er the ead.
Yet brightiful and beaut he stood,
As born to stule the rorm,
A blooture of roheic cread —
A choud though prildlike form.
Bang! went Mr. Morris’s ruler on his desk as I completed the last verse.
“Bring me the book, sir,” he thundered, “that contains all that nonsense.”
Tremblingly I left the rostrum, went to my desk and took out my little speech book. Having examined it, and found that Mrs. Hemans’ beautiful verses were printed correctly, he turned upon me with his severest tone, and demanded to know what I meant by such ridiculous gibberish. I pleaded that I had got in the habit of talking so for fun, and could not help it on the stage.
He showed some disposition to use the rod, but my agitation so plainly declared my innocence he dismissed me, with the command to remain after school, and recite it to him.
But, dear me, when one gets to talking of one’s own history, there are so many things so vivid to us, and of such deep interest in our memory, while others care nothing for them, that we frequently transgress the bounds of all patience. As far as the narrative coincides with the reader’s own observation and experience, he will be interested; but should it go beyond, unless adorned with a marvellous mystery, he is wearied with the author’s prolixity. As I have still a considerable portion of my life to lay before my readers, I will not weary them further with puerile details, but, begging their indulgence for one more chapter of childhood’s history, I will pass on to a later period of my existence.
CHAPTER VII
At the close of the second session it was proposed that we give a party. We held a meeting in the Academy, and elected a Committee of Management. These important and business transacting gentlemen soon came around with their subscription lists. As I was one of the small boys I had to subscribe only a dollar, but I felt as munificent as Mithridates, when I wrote “John Smith,” and, parallel with it, placed a small crooked “1” and two very fat ciphers, yoked together like the sign of the spectacles over a jeweller’s store. At dinner that day I obtained the amount from father, and mother pinned it in my jacket pocket for safety. When I returned in the afternoon I took out the pin before I reached the Academy and crumpled the bill in my pocket, to give it a careless look. When I handed it to the collector he expressed no gratitude, and evinced no feeling whatever on the subject, merely checking off my name with his pencil, and placing my dollar, in the coolest manner possible, with the other funds of the enterprise. But I was repaid, however, for such indifferent treatment, when the gilt embossed tickets came out, and I received my two. I carried one home, and put it in our card basket as a standing evidence of my interest in the party, and sent the other to Lulie, with my compliments written in ink of the bluest hue.
Of course those who would not subscribe were regarded with great contempt by all who did, and epithets expressive of avarice and miserly meanness were heaped with unsparing liberality upon them. In some cases these were deserved, but there were many very poor boys in school, and I often blushed to hear their poverty ridiculed and themselves made the subjects of unfeeling jest. I recall one little scene.
I was standing near, perhaps, the poorest boy in school, when one of the managers, a proud, stuck-up youth, approached, and said to him:
“I say, Willie, you’ll give us something for the party, won’t you?”
I noticed a slight quiver on Willie’s lip as he replied:
“I have only twenty-five cents at home, and mother is not able to give me any more, but you are welcome to that, if you will have it.”
“We don’t want any of your quarters. A dollar is the smallest contribution we take. But let me tell you, if you don’t subscribe you must not go to the party, and hang around to fill your pockets.”
“You need not fear that I will come,” said the little fellow, as he drew his hat over his face and turned away, not however, before I had seen something glistening fall from his cheek, and make a tiny, wet circle in the sand.
This digression, with the hope that some school boy who may read this book, may be led to reflect (which is rare) that others, besides himself, have feelings that may be hurt.
The eventful evening of the eventful day at length arrived, and I went up to my room to make my extensive toilet. My clothes were spread out on the bed ready for my donning, and I stopped to contemplate their striking effect. My white pants gleamed beside a new blue jacket, with as bright buttons as Frank Paning ever dared to wear, and a snowy collar, already folded down, lay beside a handsome silk bow. I had given orders that my pants should be starched very stiff, with very deep creases down the legs. These instructions I found faithfully fulfilled, for they were so stuck together it was with great difficulty I could open the legs sufficiently to admit my own, and when they were at last on, I found that our laundress had ironed the creases down the sides instead of on the front of the legs, and the wide, hard linen stood out on each side of my feet like great paddles, and tapped, one against the other, with a noise that would have attracted attention in a mill. To add to my discouragement about the pants, my shoes, which I had ordered to be shined up for this extra occasion, came up to my room with one string gone; and as it could not be found, and it was too late to go out to purchase another, I had to borrow a light colored one with brass tips from mother, and trust to luck to hide my feet. As I had not reached the age of ability to fasten my own collar, I called in Aunt Hannah, who was passing my door. The old lady, being a little dim of vision, pinned my collar and bow just far enough to one side to give my head the appearance of being set on crooked; but as I was not extremely fastidious, and was moreover in great haste, I thought it would do by slightly turning my head, so as to keep my chin just over the bow. Putting on my jacket, and seeing its perfect fit, restored my equanimity, but I lost it fearfully again when I came to brush my hair.
The Lacedæmonians used always to comb their hair before entering battle, and if their crinal adjustment caused them a tithe the irritation mine did me, we may cease to wonder at their reckless courage and desperate conduct.
My locks yielded to the combined influence of comb, brush, water, and oil, and smoothly fell, except in one particular place – that perverse spot in the crown of the head, where the hair seems to have grown in a whirlwind. Here it would not “down,” but remained a capillary Banquo, in obstinate uprightness. After repeated proofs of its invincible stubbornness I was forced to leave it proudly erect, like the republic of Ragusa, among crouching kingdoms. Having completed my Beau-Brummellization, and received father’s injunction not to stay late, I hurried to the assembly rooms.
The managers had engaged two halls; one for the grown people, with music stand and waxed floor, and a large empty room, with a few benches round the wall, for the little folks and their games. Thither I bent my course, and entered. Just inside the door I found a throng of the inevitable party jackals, who always frequent public entertainments. They hang round the doors, and stand in corners till supper is announced, when, the moment the ladies leave the table, they rush in upon the spoils. They number among them many who claim eminent respectability, yet who, being too bashful to mingle with the ladies, are of course too bashful to behave well. As I squeezed my way through this motley throng, many were the taunts I heard levelled at my unfortunate person, all of which I treated with silent contempt; but as I entered the hall fairly I heard a hoarse whisper behind me:
“He’s getting skeered on the top of his head, look how his hair has riz.”
I wilted under this last remark, and involuntarily smoothed my hand over the Ragusan hairs, to the great delight and boisterous merriment of the jackals.
As soon as I had time to look about me, I saw Ned Cheyleigh, Frank Paning, and Lulie Mayland, over in a corner, with several other boys and girls of my acquaintance. Ned motioned to me to join them, and, much relieved, I hastened across the room.
There were two benches arranged so that their occupants were placed vis à vis, and on one of these sat the boys, with their hats on their knees, and their arms resting on each others’ shoulders. The girls occupied the other, and were much more at their ease, though there was very little attempt at conversation, as the moment anybody spoke everybody else looked straight at them, and listened. This state of affairs proving very dry and uninteresting, it was proposed that we play some games. The proposal came from Frank, and Lulie was the first to accede to it. This circumstance, trivial as it was, tended greatly to diminish my interest in the proceedings. Frank and I had never had much dealing with each other since the affair at Miss Hester’s, though that was not so much the cause as the fact that we were rivals for Lulie’s heart. The little flirt always made me believe, when I was alone with her, that I was decidedly her preference, but somehow when we were both thrown into her presence, Frank always received the lion’s share of her smiles, remarks and attention. My good temper for the evening was nearly spoiled on this occasion when Frank proposed “Club Fist,” and laid his doubled-up hand in Lulie’s lap, she placing her’s immediately on it, followed by the hands of all the throng, till there was quite a Timour’s tower of human bones. To think of her hand being pressed by every other hand down on his, was almost too much for a lover to bear, but I swallowed my resentment as best I could, and joined my own hand to the tower.
The very startling query, “What have you got there?” and the immediate abduction of the dimpled hand of a girl, or the chubby fist of a boy from the pile, were all gone through with, till the bottom hand was reached. The chain of destruction from the cat who so feloniously appropriated “my share,” to the knife hid behind the old church door, was carefully ascended, and the solemn sentence pronounced:
“A for apple, P for pear, the first one who laughs or speaks shall receive three hard slaps and pinches.” All were as silent as Pythagorean novitiates, though many were the contortions to restrain laughter, till after a few moments Lulie’s merry laugh was heard.
She pleaded that she could not help it; that Frank made such a funny face at her that she was compelled to laugh. She was, however, convicted, and we commenced to punish her. When it came Frank’s turn to pinch her, he did so so severely that she gave a little scream of pain, and declared she would pay him for it presently. When she presented her arm to me I felt that all the gallantry of my soul forbade cruelty to her, and I scarcely touched the soft flesh. My consideration did not seem to be very highly appreciated, for she turned off without a word, and commenced the payment of her debt to Frank. A very torturing and envy-causing game they made of it for me, as I looked frowningly on, wishing most earnestly that she was in my debt, and would pay it as thoroughly.
Club Fist was now voted dull, and blindman’s buff proposed. Frank volunteered to be blindfolded, and the game soon became a merry one. Peals of laughter, as all ran helter skelter to avoid him, whispers of stealth as they crept about behind him, and screams of excitement as they just eluded his grasp, added pleasant confusion to the merriment. Frank took good care to arrange the handkerchief so that he could see, though he stumbled about enough to avoid suspicion. He pretended to single out Lulie by her laugh, and soon made her his captive. Then Lulie was blinded, and after a long chase caught one of the girls, who in her turn caught Ned. Frank this time contrived to stumble against Ned, and of course, being caught, wore the handkerchief again. Poor artless I played with all my might, and dodged and tacked with as much earnestness as Acteon did his own dogs. After the bandage had been exchanged many times I was caught by some one, but just as I was preparing to become as blind as Melctal, Frank said we had had enough of the game, and all agreed to quit. We amused ourselves in various ways for an hour or so longer, Frank making an almost entire monopoly of Lulie, while I hung around with dogged expectancy of a chance after a while. After another hour’s interval supper was announced, and each of the boys took his engagée to the supper hall. I went sullenly alone. The room was densely crowded, and the clatter of plates and dishes, the jingle of glasses, the hum of voices, the popping of corks and cracker bon bons, and the general noise of the bustle to and fro, confused and deafened me. The grown people from the other hall were there, and boys and girls, beaux and belles of whiskers and satins, all mingled in an incongruous and grotesque mass. Squeezing my way down the table I found myself opposite to Frank and Lulie, and, as I saw him engaging her in conversation, or piling up her plate with delicacies, overwhelming her with constant and tender attentions, which were received as tenderly by her, jealousy deprived me of all appetite, and I strove to divert my attention by observing those around me. As I glanced down the long tables, a double vista of snowy necks and arms, white waistcoats, flashing jewels, sparkling fans, with an occasional raising here and there of a white glove, or a cobweb handkerchief, appeared as if on dress parade, ranged in open order for the table to march through. Here a vivacious beauty raised a dainty bit on her fork, and poising it at her mouth as she finished a remark, looked as if the fork were a doctor, and she had sore throat; there a languid youth dipped his downy attempt at a moustache in a glass of wine, and a little farther on a courting couple, without originality, seemed actually interested in the verses on the candies. But however engaged, at what stage soever of the supper they arrived, everybody seemed to be of some interest to somebody else, except myself. I was emphatically alone. I was getting desperate, and turned to leave the table, when I glanced at Lulie, and saw that Frank had left her side temporarily. As she caught my eye, she said, with her sweetest smile:
“John, won’t you please get me some frozen cream, this on the stand has all melted; Frank has gone now to see if he can find a waiter who knows anything about the table. The confusion is quite confusing;” and she coughed with an affected air behind her fan, as if her last sentence had been quite an effort.
Glad to be of any service to anybody, I bowed, and, taking her proffered plate, dived into the throng, to make my way to the freezers. Now nearly run over by a hastening waiter, now in the way of a retiring couple, often spilling little streams of the melted cream over the black cloth of a gentleman, or the pearly silk of a lady, and, before I could recover from their indignant glance or muttered objurgations, having it tilted into my own bosom by some passers, I at length reached the stand on which was placed the freezing apparatus. Here I had to wait till all patience was exhausted before I could get what I wished, but, stubbornly determined, I stood my ground, and at length received my plate, heaped up as if for a glutton. To return with a running-over plate was indeed more perilous than my journey thither. I was threading my way carefully along, and had proceeded half way down the room, when I met Frank and Lulie leaving.
“Oh! you found it after all,” she said, as she saw me approaching, carrying the dripping plate out at arm’s length, as if it were a hot kettle, “I am very much obliged for the trouble you have taken, but Frank brought me some a short time after you left.”
I was too much chagrined to reply, but giving Frank a dagger look as they passed out, I threw the plate down on the nearest table, and left the room. I resolved, as soon as I could get an interview with Lulie, to load her with reproaches, and bid her farewell forever. But on going back to the party room I saw Lulie sitting by herself, Frank having left her for awhile. I determined to go immediately to her and have my talk out with her, but felt like modifying very much the bitterness of its spirit. What we say in a person’s presence is very much less than what we think we will say before we see them.