Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1881-07-31
HOW MISS JENKINS GOrOUT OFT.

Il Like Eternity!
HOWMISS JENKINS GOrOUT OF IT
1t was writing afternoon, said Mis-
Jenkins,-and my scholars were new. l
you had ever been a teacher, my dear
you would realize what the combination
of those two simple facts implies--th'
WEAKNESS of body and the utter vexatior
of spirit. First, there's the holding Of
the pen. If there's one thing more thar
another IN which scholars exhibit theil
own originality, it is in managing pen
holder Then, the ink: To some it was
simply ink, nothing more. To others ii
seemed an irresistible tempter, whisper
ing of undue designs, grotesque or other
wise, to be worked out upon desk OF
jacket, or perhaps upon the back of one
small hand
Well, upon the afternoon of which l
am going to tell you, 1 had had more cor
recting to do than usual, for some of the
scholars were stupid, and couldn't do as
/ wished; and others were careless, and
didn't try What with the looking, and
STOPPING, and continual showing, l felt
my patience giving way, and when [ saw
that three of the largest boys had left the
page upon which they had been practic-
ing, and were making unknown chara c.
ters' in different parts of their books, /
lost it utterly. "That 1 will not have" said
1, sharply. "I will punish any boy who
makes mark upon any but the lesson
page"
They were very still for while.
Nothing was heard but the scratch,
eff the pens, and the sound of footsteps
| as 1 walked up and down the aisles. In
voluntarily, found myself studying the
hands before me as if they had been faces.
There was Harry Sanford's, large and
plump, but f1abby withal, and not over
clean His ems" stood weakly upon
their legs, seeming to feel the need of
other letters to prop them up.
Walter Lanes, red and chapped, with
short, stubbed fingers, nails bitten off to
the quick, had yet certain air of sturdy
dignity; and his s'n's," if not handsome,
were certainly plain, and looked as if
they knew their place, and meant to keep
it.
Tommy Silver's, long and limp, be-
smeared with ink from palm to nail,
vainly strove to keep time with tongue
which wagged, uncertainty, this way and
that, and which should have been red,
but was black, like the fingers. His
ems" had neither form nor comeliness,
and might have stood for "v's," or even
"x's," quite as well.
Then there was Hugh Bright's hand,
hard and rough with work. holding the
pen as if it never meant to let it go; but
his ''n's'' were ems" and could not be
mistaken for anything else.
At length came to Frank Dunbar's
desk-dear little Frank, who had been
real help and comfort to me since the day
when he bashfully knocked at my door.
with books and slate in hand. His hand.
His hand was white and shapely; fingers
spotless, nails immaculate, and his "n's''
but what was it that sent cold chill
over me as 1 looked at them? All, my
dear, if should live thousand years, 1
could never tell you how felt when l
found that Frank Dunbar had written
half dozen letters upon the opposite
page of his copy book!
"Why, Frank" said 1, chow did that
happen?''
"Ididit"
"You did it before l spoken" said 1,
cllnglng 10 IOrlorn nope
"No, IN; I did it af1erward. [ for
got"
s'Oh, Frank! my good, good boy! How
could you? l shall have to punish you"
eyes, 'm,''-the brave blue eyes look
ing calmly up into my face
every well; you may go to the desk"
He went, and walked the aisles again,
up and down, giving caution here or
a word of advice there but not knowing,
in the least, what l was about. My
thoughts were all with the daxen- haired
culprit, who stood bravely awaiting his
penalty Vainly strove to listen to my
inward motion. 1t seemed suddenly to
have become two-voiced, the one tanta-
lizing, the other soothing,-and, of
course, the tones were conflicting.
'You must punish him." said one.
"You mustn't" said the other.
sHe deserves it,
s "He DOESN'T
"He disobeyed you fatty"
"But he forgot-and he has always
been so good"
"But you promised. You have given
your word Here are thirty boys to
whom you should be an example. Do
you think they are not watching you?
Look at them!"
l did look at them. Walter Lanes
sharp black eyes and Harry Sanford's
sleepy orbs were fixed curiously upon me.
Nor were these ALL Gray eyes, blue
eyes, hazed and brown eyes,-all were
regarding me intently; l almost fancied
that they looked at me pityingly. 1 could
not bear it.
''Attend to your writing, boys. Then
l walked slowly up to the. desk.
s'You see how it ISL said the troble-
some voice. "You will certainly have to
punish him.
But had thought of possible plan of
escape Crank" said 1, syou have
been disobedient, and-you know what 1
said, but-you are such good boy that |
can not bear to punish you-not in that
way, mean. You may go to the foot of
your class, instead"
s'I'd rather take the whipping" The
honest, upturned face was very sober,
but betrayed not the least sign of fear,
nor was there the slightest suspicion of
tremble in the clear, childish voice
"Bless your brave little heart" thought
l. "Of course you would! l might have
known it," and again l walked the aisles
up and down, thinking, thinking
"You will have to do it," repeated the