Weekly graphic. [volume] (Kirksville, Adair Co., Missouri) 1880-1949, 1881-09-16
now MISS JENKINS "GOT OUT OF
IT."
by MARY C. BARTLETT.

l IL WdS WiiitiS uItSthoOiis SAiS
M IS jenkins, and my scholars were
new. II you had ever been teacher
my dear, you would realize wha, the
combination ofthose two simple facts
implies-the WEAKNESS Of body ant
the utter vexation Of spirit. First
there's the holding OF the pen. lfthere':
one thing more than another in which
scholars exhibit their own originality, II
is managing pen.holder. I've count
ed one-and forty different ways. among
as many boys, more than once-eact
separate way quite different from wha;
l had laugh: them five minutes before
Then, the ink: To some it was sim.
ply ink, nothing more. To others i,
seemed an irresistible tempter. whis'
pering Of unique designs, grotesque OF
otherwise, to be worked out upon desk
jacket, or pehaps upon the back CT one
small hand.
Well. upon the afternoon Of which
am going to tell you, l had more cor.
recting to do than usual, for some OF
the scholars were stupid, and couldn't
do as | wished; others we're careless,
and didn't try. What with the look.
ing, and stopping, and continual show.
ing,1 felt my patience giving away, and
when l saw that three OF the largest
boys had left the page upon which
they should have been practicing,
and were making unknown charac-
tiers" in different parts Of their books,
lost it utterly.
That WILL not have" said l,
sharply. II will punish any boy who
makes a mark on any but the lesson
page"
They were still for while. Nothing
was heard but the scratch, scratching
of pens, and the sound of my foot steps
as l walked down the isle. lnvolun.
tarily l found myself studying the
hands before me as if they had been
faces. There was Harry Sanford's,
large and plump, but fabby withal,
and not overly clean. His ms" 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
DITTO the quick, had ye. certain air
of sturdy dignity; and his ms" if not
handsome, were certainly plain. and
looked as If they knew their place, and
meant to keep it, too.
Tommy Silvers, 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 ms" had neither form nor come
illness, and might have stood for "v ;"
or even "X's," quite as well.
Then there was Hugh Bright's hand,
hard and rough with work. holding the
pen as ifnever meant to let it go; but
his ms were ms" and could by no
possible chance be mistaken for any
thing else.
At length came to Frank, who had
been a real help and comfort to me
since the day when he bashfully knock
ed at my door, with books and slate
in hand. His hand was white and
shapely; fingers spotless, nails immacu-
late, and his ''n's,-but what was that
sent cold chill over me as l looked
at them? All, my dear, if l should
live thousand years, l could never
tell you how l felt when l found that
Frank Dunbar had written half dozen
letters upon the opposite page of his
copy book!
"Why, Frank" said l, "how did
that happens"
IL did it."
You did it before spoke?" said l,
clinging to a forlorn hope.
mo, 'n; did it afterward. l forgot"
"OA. Frank! my good, good boy! ,
How could you7 Don't you see that l
'lidli hive W punish yOus
''Yes, M the brave blue eyes look 4
ng calmly into my face.
Very well; you may go to the desk"
He went, and walked the aisles
gain,-up and down, up and down, II
living caution here or word of adj !, Is
ice, but not knowing, in the least, Il
hat l was about. My thoughts were n n
II with the aaxen-haired culprit, who /,
TODD bravely awaiting his penalty. al
Eainly | strove to listen TO my IN W
ard monitor. 1t seemed suddenly to 81
ave become two-voiced,-the one +,
the other soothing,-and III III
f course. the tones were conflicting VI VI
You must punish him "said one. fit
"You mustn't" said another. en-
He deserves it" ne
"He doscn,t." IA
"He disobeyed you fatty" Fl
but he forgot-and he has always an
en- so good" ear e:
"B@ you promised. You have Civ. lit, ~"
your word. Here are thirty BOYS nj,
whom you should be an example. ba
you think they are not watching tax
u! I4ok at tfem." - pa
Il did look at them. Walter Lanes cor
ok eyes and Henry SanFord's sleepy the
IS were fixed curiously upon me. Nor !, w 70
re these all. Gray eyes, blue eyes, t tnp
eel and brown eyes-allwere regard mo-
me intently; almost fancied that aur
y looked at ME pityingly. 1 could and
bear il.
Attend to your writing, boys" "
IN l walked slowly up to the desk. {.