Eggleston_Hoosier_Schoolmaster.txt topic ['13', '324', '378', '393']
her
chamber, packed in a handkerchief all her earthly goods, consisting
chiefly of a few family relics, and turned her back on the house of
forever. the gate she met the old woman, who shook her fist in
the girl's face and gave her a parting benediction in the words: "
mis'able, ongrateful critter you, go 'long. 'm glad to be shed of you!"
the barn she met , and he told her good-by with a little huskiness
in his voice, while a tear glistened in her eyes. had been a friend
in need, and such a friend one does not leave without a pang.
" are you going? --"
", no!" with that she hastened on, afraid that would offer to
hitch up the roan colt. she did not want to add to his domestic
unhappiness by compromising him in that way.
was dusk and was raining when she left. hours were long, the road
was lonely, and after the revelations of that day it did not seem wholly
safe. from the moment that she found herself free, her heart had
been ready to break with an impatient homesickness. though there
might be robbers in the woods? though there were ten rough miles to
travel? though the rain was in her face? though she had not
tasted food since the morning of that exciting day? and
bondage were behind; freedom, mother, , and home were before her,
and her feet grew lighter with the thought. if she needed any other
joy, it was to know that the master was clear. he would come?
so she traversed the weary distance, and so she inquired and found the
house, the beautiful, homely old house of beautiful, homely old
, and knocked, and was admitted, and fell down, faint and weary,
at her blind mother's feet, and laid her tired head in her mother's lap
and wept and wept like a child, and said, " mother! 'm free! 'm
free!" while the mother's tears baptized her face, and the mother's
trembling fingers combed out her tresses. stood by her and
cried: " knowed wouldn't forget you, !"
was ready now to do anything by which she could support her
mother and . was strong, and inured to toil. was willing
and cheerful, and she would gladly have gone to service if by that means
she could have supported the family. , for that matter her mother was
already able nearly to support herself by her knitting. had
been carefully educated when young, and at that moment the old public
schools were being organized into a graded school, and the good
minister, who shall be nameless, because he is, perhaps, still
living in , and who in parlance was called "the
preacher-in-charge of "--this good minister and
got a place as teacher in the primary department.
then a little house with four rooms was rented, and a little, a very
little furniture was put into it, and the old sweet home was established
again. father was gone, never to come back again. the rest were
here. somehow kept waiting for somebody else to come.
.
.
two weeks longer taught at the school-house. was
everybody's hero. he was 's idol. did what he could to get
and together, and though always "saw her safe home" after
this, and called on her every evening, yet, to save his life, he
could not forget his big fists and his big feet long enough to say what
he most wanted to say, and what most wanted him to say.
the end of two weeks found himself exceedingly weary of
, and exceedingly glad to hear from . that the school-money
had "gin out." gave him a good excuse to return to , where
his heart and his treasure were. certain sense of delicacy had kept
him from writing to just yet.
he got to he had good news. uncle, ashamed of his
previous neglect, and perhaps with an eye to his nephew's growing
popularity, had got him the charge of the grammar department in the new
graded school in the village. he quietly arranged to board at a
boarding-house. aunt could not have him about, of which fact he was
very glad. could not but feel, she said, that he might have taken
better care of than he did, when they were only four miles apart.
did not hasten to call on . should he? sent her a
message, of no consequence in itself, by . he took
possession of his school; and then, on the evening of the first day of
school, he went, as he had appointed to himself, to see .
she, with some sweet presentiment, had got things ready by fixing up
the scantily-furnished room as well as she could. ,
who had seen that afternoon, had guessed that he was going to see
. 's wonderful how much enjoyment a generous heart can get out
of the happiness of others. not that what meant when he said of
such as that they should have a hundred-fold in this life
for all their sacrifices? not enjoy a hundred weddings
and have the love of five hundred children? so just
happened over at . 's humble home, and, just in the most
matter-of-course way, asked that lady and to come over to her
house. wanted to come too. blushed a little,
and said that she would rather not.
when she was left alone, fixed her hair two or three times,
and swept the hearth, and moved the chairs first one way and then
another, and did a good many other needless things. : for a
lover, if he be a lover, does not see furniture or dress.
then she sat down by the fire, and tried to sew, and tried to look
unconcerned, and tried to feel unconcerned, and tried not to expect
anybody, and tried to make her heart keep still. tried in vain.
a gentle rap at the door sent her pulse up twenty beats a minute and
made her face burn. was for the first time, abashed in the
presence of . the oppressed girl had, in two weeks, blossomed
out into the full-blown woman.
sat down by the fire, and talked of his school and her school,
and everything else but what he wanted to talk about. then the
conversation drifted back to , and to the walk through the
pasture, and to the box-elder tree, and to the painful talk in the lane.
begged to be forgiven, and laughed at the idea that she
had done anything wrong. she praised his goodness to , and he
drew her little note out of-- agreed not tell you where he kept it.
then she blushed, and he told how the note had sustained him, and
how her white face kept up his courage in his flight down the bed of
. he sat a little nearer, to show her the note that he
had carried in his bosom-- have told it! --but must not proceed.
love-scene, ever so beautiful in itself, will not bear telling. so
shall leave a little gap just here, which you may fill up as you please.
. . . , they never knew how, they got to talking about the future
instead of the past, after that, and to planning their two lives as one
life. . . . when and . returned later in
the evening, was standing by the mantel-piece, but noticed
that his chair was close to 's. good looked
in 's face and was happy.
.
" "
are all children in reading stories. want more than all else to
know how it all came out at the end, and, if our taste is not perverted,
we like it to come out well. my part, ever since began to write
this story, have been anxious to know how it was going to come out.
, there were very few invited. took place at ten in the morning.
"preacher-in-charge" came, of course. was there.
's uncle was away, and had a sore throat and
couldn't come. the memory of the fact that she had refused .
, the pauper, a bed for two nights, affected her throat.
and her sister were there, and the preacher. that was all,
besides the family, and and . course and came.
driving to a wedding in a "jumper" was the one opportunity
needed. hands were busy, his big boots were out of sight, and it
was so easy to slip from 's love affair to his own, that
somehow, in pulling 's shawl about her, stammered out half
a proposal, which , generous soul, took for the whole ceremony,
and accepted. was so happy that guessed from his face and
voice that the agony was over, and was betrothed at last to the
"gal as was a gal."
after and were married--there was no trip, only
changed his boarding-place and became head of the house at .
's thereafter--after it was all over, came to . ,
and, snickering just a little, said as how as him and had fixed
it all up, and now they wanted to ax his advice; and proud but
blushing, came up and nodded assent. said as how as he hadn't got no
book-larnin' nor nothin', and as how as he wanted to be somethin', and
put in his best licks fer , you know'. that , she was of
the same way of thinkin', and that was a blessin'. the was
a-goin' to marry agin', and would ruther vacate. his mother
and was sech as he wouldn't take no wife to. he thought as
how . might think of some way or some place where he and
mout make a livin' fer the present, and put in their best licks
fer , you know.
thought a moment. was about to make an allusion to and
the stables, but he remembered that would not understand it,
though it might remind of something she had seen at the , the
time she was to .
", my dear friend," said , "it looks a little hard to ask you to
take a new wife"--here looked admiringly at --"to the
poor-house. don't know anywhere where you can do so much good for
as by taking charge of that place, and can get the appointment
for you. new commissioners want just such a man."
" d'ye say, ?" said .
", somebody ought to do for the poor, and should like to do it."
so cleaned the stables.
so my humble, homely story of twenty years ago[29] draws to
a close, and not without regret take leave of and ; and
, and , and , and , and of my readers.
* * * * *
..-- copy of the __ came into my hands to-day,
and see by its columns that is principal of the
. took me some time, however, to make out that the
sheriff of the county, . . , was none other than my old
friend , of the of the . was almost as much
puzzled over his name as was when saw an article in a city paper, by
. .. , on -. should not have recognized the
writer as , had not known that has given his spare time
to making outcasts feel that has not forgot.