The Union and eastern journal. [volume] (Biddeford [Me.]) 1854-1858, 1858-01-22

flung its shadow over the school.housc
as we got our lessons. Those great bel
pears were cruelty tantaliziug as they
grew and ripcncd amid the green leaves
but when they came rushing down from
the boughs and fell in the grass directly
under us, so plump and mellow, it wa.
really too much for human nature.
But Miss Punderson was strict; she
read the golden rule every Monday, and
kneeling at her high.backcd chair, pray
ed diligently night and morning all the
week, while VIC stood mutely around
Indeed her control was so perfect that we
hardly ventured to look at thcpears when
they fell; the idea of touching them
never entered our hearts.
But one thing troubled us very much
just as the fruit grew ripest, Miss Pun
derson began to take her dinner basket
and hymn-book and cross into the mead
ow back of the school house, where she
would disappear down the hemlock bank
and stay sometimes during the entire
hour of noon.
One day was startled'at my lesson by
a splendid pear that came rushing from
the topmost boughs Of the tree, and roll
cd down toward the mill stream. Dan
Haines, who was sitting on the second
class bench close by me, whispered from
behind his spellirg-book. "That the
mistress would be after that ere pair
about noon time.'
Mary Bell, little girl in my class,
looked suddenly up and nodded her head.
We had found it all out, that was why
the mistress crossed the bank every
noon. She was fond ofpears, and want
ed them all to herself-grecdy old thing!
We began to feel very angry andill used,
not one of us would have thought it,
What right had she to the pcarsl they
did not belong to her more than to us.
In fact, Mary Bells father, who owned
the saw-mill, and lived in the great house
with pointed gables just in sight, was
the only person who had claim on that
tree or its fruit.
When the recess came, we were upon
the watch. Just rs usual, the mistress
took her dinner basket, and, getting over
the fence, went toward the hemlock bank.
Once she stopped as if to tic her shoe.
See, see" whispered Dan, who was on
his knees, pceping through the rail fence.
She's making believe tic up her shoe -
oh, the old maid is cute! told you so.
Let's jump over and see the mean old
thing eat itH Dan climbed the fence as
he spoke, and We followed little fright.
ened, but resolutc to find out the truth.
Dan went before treading very softly
and looking everywhere in the grass
Once he stopped, made dart at a tuft of
clover, and up again. l caught glimpse
Of something yellow in the hand he was
pushing with considerable hurry and
trouble into his pocket, that swelled out
enormously after. But Dan looked
straight forward into the hemlocks and
began to whistle which frightened us half
on. Of our wits, and we threatened to run
back again unless he stopped.
Dan flared up at this, and went back
in high dudgen, trying to cover his pock-
ct with one hard.
l think Mary Bell and l would have
gone back too, but that moment We heard
a voice from the hemlock bank.
Come, come whispered Mary Bell;-
lets see ifshe has really got it.
We crept forward very softly and look
cd over into the stream. 1t had dry
pebbly shore, broken with few moss
covered stones, all in deep shadow-for
the hemlocks ovcrhung the spot like a
tent. Upon one of these stones sat our
school-mistress, with her hymn-book
open, singing. Her voice was soft and
clear, and joined in with the murmurs of
the stream, solemn and sweet.
The old maid sung her little hymn,
closed the book, and casting a timid
glance up and down, to be sure that she
was in solitude, knclt down by the mossy
stone, which had been her seat and begun
to pray.
The mistress was alone with her God,
she had only very simple language in
which to tell him her wants, but its earn
estncss brought the tears into our eyes.
Poor soul, she had been gricving all
the time that no one Of the scholars ever
knelt by her side at prayer. She
besought God with such meek earnest
ness to touch our hearts and bring us
humbly to his feet, knecling, as she did,
for blessing or in thankfulncss. She
told the Lord, as IL he had been her only
father, how good and bright and precious
We were, lacking nothing but his holy
grace. She so humbled herself, and plead
for us, that Mary Bell and crcpt away
from the bank, crying softly, and asham-
cd to look each other in the face.