River Falls journal. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1872-2019, 1881-09-22

! " ethC hCt pldCC.
Mildred had seen the teacher, a pale
young girl, who went home every night
| by her uncle's house, with several little
ones beside her. They were barefoot
ed, to be sure, but bright-eyed and rosy
/ checked.
''How many scholars are there % she
asked, sud len impulse taking posses
sion of her.
''Not more'n twenty, reckon. It's
a summer school, so faint never very
large"
''Uncle, would they let me take it?'
"You. darter"
Eyes, believe should enjoy it, and
it would do me good, besides giving
the teacher little help. She looks as
if she needed it."
So it came about that Mildred Par
menter, meeting the children in the
road the next morning, introduced her
self to them as the lady who would
take care of them till their teacher got
well; and, with the big key in her hand
went across the field with them with a
more positive feeling of content and
happiness than she had known for
| months.
1t was queer little log school-house
| to which they went, one of the primi-
! tive sort. From all the windows were
magnificent views of the mountains.
| but Mildred improved even on that adj
vantage, by occasionally having recita-
tons out of doors, departure from
| the Orthodox fashion very gratifying to
the youthful mind. She had had little
contact with the country people, and
| the peculiar dialect, the homely sim
plicity Of life, and marked character
istics of her pupils, continually amused
her Bobby Whitman her youngest
scholar, had a strong propensity for
| chewing gum, a habit which seriously
interfered with naturally defective
articulation, but one which he sacri-
feed for the good graces of his teacher
With Maggie Wetherbee, her oldest
pupil she formed almost an intimacy,
listening with interest to the long conf
/ dences twanged through a very pretty
nose, of her trials III tending baby,
picking ''garden-sas" and laying down
pickles.
Poor Maggie, she learned, was also
the victim of an ardent attachment,
severely disapproved at home, for "a
hand" employed during haying on her
fathers farm. Between these two ex-
! tremes in age, she found almost every
variety of taste and disposition, realiz-
ing that she had entered fertile field
of usefulness and enjoyment She
wrote to her sister Il very cOmical ac-
count other experiment, laughing aloud
as she pictured the disgust of her lady
mother, INDUCED in the widest dreams
of an independent career, and, in few
weeks, had become convinced that
there was really a great deal in life
worth living tor.
1t was little Harley Jones' turn that
week to "rig up" the school-house, as
he termed it, and Mildred wondered for
two successive days at the cluster of
flowers which she found on her desk.
The great double geraniums seemed to
flash their scarlet glory all over the
room; and heliotrope, too, her favorite
flower, in masses of purple beauty, filled
the air with its fragrance. A spray of
it, with few delicate ferns, another of
her delights, was laid upon the Bible
opened at the chapter with which she
began the days exercises. Harley
Jones had certainly a taste and appre-
citation for which she had never given
him credit.
He was vigorously cleaning the black
board one morning as she came in just
in time to see the last few words as he
erased them. The writing struck her
peculiarly.
"What did you rub out, Harley
she asked, hanging up her hat in the
corner.
"Somethink You writ yerterday, Miss
Carpenter. | was writin' it over" She
smiled at the name. He never could
get it right, but she corrected the other
slips in his speech.
You mean something, Harley, and
you should say | wrote it. Can you
remember"
"He jest done it hisself," piped up a
voice behind them. II seen him when
| come in
ooh, Johnnie Mackp was the teach
er's exclamation, after | have told you
so many times" Yet no possible mu-
tilatiOn of verbs seemed TO effect her
love for the offenders, or to diminish
her patience with them, and in the
course of the day she noticed that Har-
ley Jones mad really made vast improve
ment in his copybook. But she had
occasion to reprove Maggie Wetherbee
as they walked home together that
night.
Il saw you talking with a man this
morning, Maggie, when | came across
the lot Is it possible you met anyone
in that way outside your fathers
| housei"
but 'twasn't him, stammered Mag
gle, growing red.
"Himl who?'
"Why, Bill, that | told you about |
didn't expect tomeet him" she added,
growing redder with the consciousness
| of how easily the stranger could make
| her false to Bill" Hes boarding
somewhere round, and just asked me
how soon school would be out. He's
drawing picture of our school-house
| and that's all He had lots of pictures
in big fiat book"
A strolling artist, Mildred thought.
| She knew nothing about artists, but
had an idea they were rather inoifens-
i've people Still she seemed determ-
med to watch Maggie. She must not
drift into any danger.
Mildred went earlier to school the
next morning. earlier even than Harley
/ Jones. Fresh flowers were on the desk
again, but with great start she saw
the figure OF man at the blackboard
writing Il am here" were the words
he was rapidly tracing with the chalk,
= and must see you if" just then he
turned, conscious of presence-but
not before she had recovered her self
possession.
Good morning" she said, quietly
extending her hand. and with smile
glanced from his face to the black
board.
He caught her hand and held it.
Mildred, are you ready to forgive
me yet?"
/ She drew her hand away and stepped
back.
Il have nothing to forgive in you,
/ Oscar. / was angry when l saw you
last, but was the one TO blame. For
/ give me-"
He looked at her with astonishment
she seemed so utterl. unlike herself.
And have You got over your love as
wellas your anger, Mildred p
The quick color flashed all over her
face. She looked like herself once
more, as she answered:
That question is in poor taste, Oscar
Rrant I have not CONGRATULATED Won