CHAPTER XIII.MASTER PAGE.
SO impatient was Ronald to enter upon his academic career, that he had his school books and his slate all ready for a start, Saturday afternoon. On going up to his chamber, later in the day, he was pleasantly surprised to find a nice new satchel upon his table, which his mother had made for him, as a birth-day present. He packed his books into it, and swung it over his shoulder, and walked back and forth, to see how it would seem.While he was thus indulging in pleasant anticipations, his room-mate, Otis, was undergoing a very different experience. Entering the chamber, without noticing Ronald, he threw himself upon the bed, and burst into tears. Ronald did not need to inquire what ailed him. His parents had that afternoon made their promised visit to Kate and Otis, and had just started for home, and the poor boy was consequently suffering from that most distressing malady of the mind—home-sickness. Ronald’s efforts to enliven him proved unavailing, and he was reluctantly compelled to leave him to his grief, which did not wholly subside until sleep came to his relief.
On Monday morning, more than half an hour before the first stroke of the academy bell was heard, Ronald was busily engaged in hurrying up his academical associates, whose moderation in getting themselves ready for the day’s business seemed to him almost too bad to be patiently endured. However, contrary to his predictions, all arrived at the academy in good season, though they went in straggling parties—for it was the preference of all to walk, rather than ride, when the weather andthe roads permitted. Of course, they carried their dinners.
At five minutes before nine o’clock the bell sounded, and the scholars and teachers assembled in the school-room. The forenoon was spent in taking the names of the pupils, assigning seats, forming classes, giving out lessons, and in general remarks to the students on the purpose for which they had assembled, and the duties which they were expected to perform. Most of the preliminary matters were settled, in the forenoon, and the regular studies commenced with the afternoon session.
The incidents of the day afforded plenty of topics for conversation to Marcus and the students from his family, as they proceeded home, at night. General satisfaction was expressed that one of the monitors’ desks, overlooking a division of the smaller boys, had been assigned to Oscar. This arrangement seemed peculiarly gratifying to Ronald and Otis, who thus came under his oversight, and who smiled incredulously, when he declared that he should keep a particularly sharp eye upon them. Oscar expressed himself as much pleased with the preceptor,Mr. Upton. Kate, who had been promoted to the highest class, and was in excellent spirits, said she always admired Mr. Upton, and thought she should rather like his new assistant, Mr. Page. Otis and Ronald, on the other hand, were a little disappointed because Marcus had disregarded their joint request, that they might sit together, and had placed them so far apart that any intercourse during school hours, except by means of winks, signs and paper “spit balls,” would be out of the question. The reason Marcus gave for this refusal,—the fear that they would have too good a time together,—was not very consoling to the boys. Instead of Otis, Ronald had for his nearest comrade the boy who blotted his writing-book at the district school, Lewis Daniels. Both Marcus and Ronald, however, treated Lewis with kindness, and tried to make him forget the injury he had inflicted upon the latter.
The ardor with which Ronald set out for school in the morning was a little dampened by one or two other incidents that occurred during the day. At noon, as he approached a group of large boys, he heard one of them say—
“I don’t care for Marcus Page—he’s nothing but a boy, himself. He was a scholar, here, for a year or more after I joined the academy.”
On turning round, and seeing Ronald near, the large boy added—
“Here, you youngster, you needn’t go and tell Page everything you hear, because you happen to live with him; because if you do, you’ll be sorry for it.”
Ronald had no heart to report this conversation to Marcus, though he cared nothing for the threat. His ears tingled, however, to hear Marcus spoken of in this way, and from that moment he felt a strong dislike towards the boy in question, who, to do him justice, was not so bad as he seemed, but only had an unhappy habit of saying more than he felt, and threatening more than he was willing to perform.
Another large boy,—a mischievous but not ill-meaning fellow,—annoyed Ronald a good deal by applying to him the nicknameFrenchy, and telling him he had got to wear it as his “academical name.” Ronald reported this to Marcus; but the latter advised him to take no notice of the affair, telling himthat the inventor of the nickname would probably soon forget all about it, if he saw that it did not trouble Ronald.
“Who would have thought of seeing Jessie Hapley in the academy!” exclaimed Kate, as they were walking home. “I declare, I never was more surprised in my life—they are so poor, you know.”
“But Jessie is a very fine girl, if she is poor,” said Marcus.
“O, yes, I like her very much,” promptly responded Kate; “and I’m glad she is going to school with us; but I didn’t suppose her father could afford to send her.”
“She earned the money herself, to pay for her tuition,” added Marcus. “She sees she has got to support herself, if not the rest of the family, and she is anxious to qualify herself for teaching. She thinks she is better adapted to that business than to any other, and I think so, too. She is an excellent scholar, and you will have to look out for your laurels, Kate, now that she is in school.”
“Well, she is older than I am,” said Kate, quite unconcerned.
“Only a few months,” added Marcus; “besides, her school privileges have been very limited, compared with yours.”
“No matter, I don’t think I shall be jealous of her,” replied Kate. “I always did like Jessie, and if any girl is going to excel me, I’d rather it should be her than any one else. But Abby Leonard declares that she wont associate with her. She says she hates to see a poor girl all the time ‘trying to be somebody.’”
“I am afraid Abby is not so wise as she might be, if shehasenjoyed the advantages of city society,” observed Marcus.
“Do you know what she does to make herself look pale and slender?” inquired Kate. “She eats chalk, and slate pencils, and drinks lots of vinegar. She advised me to try it, because I’m so plump. She thinks it doesn’t look interesting and genteel, to be fat.”
“I hope you wont follow her advice, unless you wish to ruin your health,” replied Marcus. “I shall have to speak to her about this subject—she has fallen into a very dangerous practice, as well as a foolish theory. In fact, if she consumes those articlesto any extent, she is committing suicide, whether she knows it or not.”
The current of events continued to flow on smoothly day after day, at the academy, until one morning, when the principal failed to appear. Marcus opened the session, at the usual hour, and soon after received a note from Mr. Upton, stating that he was ill, and unable to be present. Marcus conducted the school through the day, with very good success, and before returning home, called upon his associate, whom he found prostrated with an illness which would probably detain him from his labors for several weeks.
“I do not see but that you will have to take my place, for a week or two, Marcus,” said Mr. Upton. “We have got well under way, and everything is going on smoothly, so that I think you and Miss Tillotson can manage matters very well, for a little while.”
Marcus shook his head, and looked somewhat alarmed, at this proposition. Nor was he slow in making known his objections. He had had little experience in teaching, even the simpler branches, and as to the higher studies, he was appalled bywhat he considered his lack of qualifications. Then how could he, an inexperienced youth, maintain the discipline of such a school, composed in part of pupils as old as himself, some of whom had been his school-mates a year previous? Mr. Upton, however, did not give much heed to these objections. He did not doubt Marcus’s qualifications to teach any of the branches, and as to the discipline, if he experienced any trouble, the trustees would give him all necessary aid. As it would be impracticable to make any other arrangement, at least for a week or two, Marcus at length consented to assume this new responsibility.
The next morning, Marcus informed the scholars of the new duties that had devolved upon him, and expressed his determination to do his best to make good their preceptor’s place, at the same time soliciting their aid and co-operation in the work. With now and then a trifling exception, the school was as orderly and quiet as usual, and Marcus was soon satisfied that the public sentiment of his charge was on his side, and would sustain him in his position. This was especially true of the older scholars, of whom he had most stood in doubt. Appreciatingthe value of their privileges, even the least sedate of them had no inclination to come in collision with their young teacher, for whom, indeed, they all felt some degree of esteem, as a personal friend. Neither did the younger pupils manifest any disposition to question his authority. Two days’ experience satisfied Marcus that the only pupils from whom he had reason to anticipate trouble were three or four boys, some thirteen or fourteen years old; and he had no doubt that he should be able to bring these turbulent spirits into subjection, in a few days.
These troublesome boys happened to be seated together, near the back part of the room, and at times they created some little disturbance in that quarter. Before dismissing school at night, Marcus pleasantly informed them, separately, that he proposed to re-seat some of the boys, and then proceeded to arrange such an exchange of desks as brought them nearer to his platform, and at the same time scattered them apart. One or two of the worst of them, by this change, were brought under the monitorial eye of Oscar.
Marcus now made it a special object to securethe confidence and good-will of the more unruly part of his charge. One noon, he saw several of his most troublesome boys at work upon a snow figure, in the grove back of the academy. He approached them, and, commending their skilful workmanship, soon drew them into a pleasant conversation. As he watched the growing statue, he observed that the credit belonged mainly to one of the lads, named Charles Wilder, who directed the labor of the others. Marcus had noticed that this boy exercised a good deal of influence over his comrades; but in the school-room he was rather inattentive to his lessons, and inclined to mischief.
“Charlie’s the boy for this kind of work,” said one of the lads, addressing Marcus.
“Yes, I see he understands it,” replied Marcus. “You have quite an artist’s eye, Charlie. Where did you learn so much about modelling?”
“O, I don’t know much about it—all I do know came natural to me,” replied the boy.
“I remember seeing an account of a young man in this State,” said Marcus, “who made a statue of snow and ice that was so beautiful, that a richgentleman ordered a copy of it in marble. Perhaps you will be as fortunate as he, one of these days.”
“I mean to be a sculptor, some time or other,” replied Charles, his face lighting up with an expressive smile.
“I suppose it’s hard work to make a statue, isn’t it?” inquired one of the boys.
“No, I don’t know as it is exactly what you would call hard work, but it requires a good deal of skill, and taste, and genius, to make a fine statue,” replied Marcus.
“O, I suppose they have plenty of tools, and pound it out,” observed another boy.
“Pound out your grandma’am with tools, just as much!” exclaimed Charles, with a glance of mingled pity and indignation at the boy who held this degraded view of the beautiful art to which his soul was thus early wedded.
“You must be somewhat proficient in drawing, Charlie, to design such a statue as this,” resumed Marcus.
“I’m very fond of drawing, but I don’t know much about it,” replied Charles.
“You are not taking lessons in drawing, I believe?” inquired Marcus.
“No, sir; I wanted to, but father said it was of no use,” replied Charles.
“I think itwouldbe of use,” said Marcus; “that is, if you have as much taste for it as I think you have. I wish you would let me see one of your drawings,—perhaps I could persuade your father to let you take lessons, if I think it worth while.”
“I’ve got one in my desk—I’ll run and get it,” said Charles; and he darted off, soon returning with a very neatly executed drawing of a dog hunting a stag, which he had copied with much skill from an engraving.
“That is very creditable to you—very much so,” said Marcus, as he examined the picture. “You certainly have a taste for drawing, and your father must let you take lessons of Miss Tillotson. I will speak to him about it, this week.”
The young artist looked pleased and grateful, and Marcus left him, not only feeling a new interest in the boy, but with a firm persuasion that he should have no further trouble with him.
The above is a representation of Charles’s drawing. Marcus took the trouble to call upon Mr. Wilder, that afternoon, and after a little persuasion obtained permission for Charles to take drawing lessons.
A day or two after this, Marcus found on his desk, one morning, an anonymous note, which read as follows:—
“To Master Page:—I think it is too bad that some of the scholars should be allowed to have keys to their arithmetics, when it is against the rules. Fair play is a jewel. This is from
One who Knows.”
Marcus was for a time in doubt what to do in relation to this complaint. The anonymous character of the note deprived it of all claim upon his attention; and its apparently implied censure upon him for something of which he had no knowledge, rendered it still more objectionable. After reflection, however, he determined to investigate the matter at once, leaving to a future occasion some remarks to the school on the impropriety and meanness of writing anonymous letters of complaint. He accordingly remarked to the school:—
“I have been informed that some of the scholars have keys to their arithmetics. I wish all such would rise.”
Much to his surprise, Oscar promptly arose, and said:—
“I have a key, but I have made no improper use of it. I do all my sums before I look at the answers.”
“Did you not know that it is contrary to the rules for any scholar to have a key?” said Marcus.
“Yes, sir,” replied Oscar.
“That is sufficient,” said Marcus. “You have violated one of our rules, whatever use you may have made of the key. If you have it here, you may deliver it up.”
Oscar obeyed the order, his appearance indicating that he felt the mild rebuke rather keenly. It is due to him to say, that with this exception, his conduct in school had thus far been quite exemplary, and his progress in his studies commendable.
After Ronald had become somewhat familiar with the school, he found it rather difficult to wholly repress the promptings to fun within him. During the first week of the principal’s absence, Marcus had occasion to reprove him several times, privately, for offences of this kind, and on one occasion, detained him after school, as a punishment. One afternoon, as Marcus was hearing a class recite, he was startled by one of his most quiet boys crying out:—
“You quit that!”
“What is the matter, Edmund?” inquired Marcus.
The boy, coloring deeply replied:—
“Ronald has been snapping nut-shells at me for half an hour, and he just hit me in the eye with one. I was very busy ciphering, and I spoke before I thought. I forgot I was in school.”
Ronald was called out, a handful of nuts was transferred from his pocket to the teacher’s desk, and he was then directed to stand upon the platform facing the school, until he had committed to memory a page from a geography used by another class. In all this Marcus was as calm and mild as usual; but nevertheless, Ronald did not feel very pleasantly, as he took his position and commenced his task, though the punishment was not what he feared it would be, when called out. His mortification was not a little increased, when, after reciting the task, Marcus assigned him a new seat, directly under his own eye. Ronald avoided all company, on his way home, that afternoon, and seemed especially anxious to keep out of the reach of Marcus, through the rest of the day. Marcus, however, had something to say to Ronald, and after tea he found an opportunity to say it.
“Ronald,” he said, “I have been thinking that Ihad better increase your lessons a little. I am afraid you are getting along too easily at school.”
“Why, I think our lessons are pretty hard,” replied Ronald, somewhat surprised.
“They are hard enough for most of your class, but you learn so readily that I shall have to give you some extra tasks,” added Marcus.
“I don’t think that is fair,” replied Ronald. “If I get all the lessons that the others do, I should think that is enough.”
“If your lessons are so easy that you learn them without much effort,” continued Marcus, “you are missing the real end of going to school. It is not the chief aim of education to give a child a smattering of knowledge, but the object should be to discipline his mind, and that cannot be done without real tasks—lessons that will make him study hard, and think closely. He needs something to rouse him to exertion, and then he will begin to find out what his powers are. I think I shall let you study book-keeping and algebra, with the third class, in addition to your other lessons.”
“Well, if you think best, I will try it,” said Ronald.
“I have another reason for this,” added Marcus. “You have too many idle moments, now. Your lessons are not hard enough to keep you out of mischief. I shall have to increase them until you have no time for idleness or mischief during study hours.”
Marcus imposed the additional studies upon Ronald, the next day. The salutary effects of this, and of the incidents of the previous afternoon, were soon apparent. He was careful, however, not to overtask the boy’s powers, which would have been a greater evil than the opposite error.
With Otis, Marcus found a different course of management necessary. He was more quiet and orderly in school than Ronald, but less perfect in his lessons. Indeed, he was not remarkably fond of study, and needed a little spurring, now and then, to prevent his falling below the average of his class. One afternoon, as he was walking home with Marcus, he said:—
“I can’t get that sixth sum right, any way. I’ve tried it half a dozen times, and I get it exactly the same every time. The answer in the book must be wrong, for I know I did it right. I did theother sums in just the same way, and they came right.”
“You are wrong,” replied Marcus, “for I happen to know that the answer in the book is right. Georgianna Ellis came to me this afternoon with the same story. She thought the answer in the book was a mistake. But I did the sum, and found it right.”
“How did you do it?” inquired Otis.
“That is for you to find out yourself, if you can,” replied Marcus, with a significant accent upon the last clause of the sentence.
“Didn’t you show Georgianna how to do it?” inquired Otis.
“No,” replied Marcus; “I told her to read over the question carefully, and then to keep trying upon it until she got the right solution.”
“Did she get it?” inquired Otis.
“I do not know,” replied Marcus; “but if she has not found out her error, I have no doubt she will.”
“Then I suppose you think I can do the sum, if I keep trying,” said Otis.
“I have some doubts about that,” replied Marcus.“I suppose I ought to give you the same direction that I gave Georgianna; but I have little faith that you would be successful, after all.”
“Why couldn’t I find out the answer, if she can?” inquired Otis.
“There is a great difference in scholars,” replied Marcus. “Some are careful, and examine everything very closely, when they meet a difficulty, while others blunder about without much thought. Some have great perseverance, and others are quickly discouraged. And then some do not seem to have much sense, or if they have, they don’t exercise it.”
Otis did not push his inquiries any further, and the subject was dropped. The stimulus of shame, judiciously applied, is sometimes effective when other means fail, and so it proved in this case. Otis was not discouraged by what Marcus said, but was incited by it to a new and more earnest effort. He solved the problem, unaided, and so derived more real benefit from this one puzzling question than from all the others in the day’s lesson, which he performed without difficulty.