The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1881-08-12

All, the eyes ars coming, backi
Mske mamma, waksi
Can see glimpse Of blseE;
Wakes mamma, wake!
Now they're shining, dark and bright;
Fly back. little blankets light;
Come again tomorrow night
Wake, mamma, wakel
-Yotfta's CoalFanSoa.
How Miss jenkins " Got Out OF It's
It was "writing afternoon" said
Miss Jenkins-and my scholars were
new. If you had ever been teacher,
my dear, you would realize what the
combination OF those two simple fscts
implies-tfie WEAKNESS Of body and the
utter vexation of spirit. First; there's
the holding Of the pen. If there's ons
thing more than another in which schol-
ars exhibit their own originality, it is IN
managing pen-holder. Then, the ink.
To some it was simply ink, nothing
more. To others it seemed an irresisti-
BILE tempter, whispering of unique de-
signs, grotesque or otherwise, to be
worked out upon desk or jacket, or per-
haps upon the back OF one small hand.
Well, tibon the afternoon of which [
am going to tell yotf, had had tiofe
correcting to do than usual; for some Of
the scholars were stupid; and Couldn't
do as I wished; and Others were, care
less, and didn't try. What with the
looking, and stopping, and continual
showing, I felt my patience giving way,
and when / saw that three of the argest
boys had left the page upon which they
should have been practicing, and were
making unknown characters" in differ
ent parts of their books, 1 lost 1t utterly.
That | will hot have," said I, sharply.
"I will punish any boy who taakes a
mark upon any but the 1esson-page.
They were very still for while.
Nothing was heard but the scratch,
scratching of the pens, and the sound
of my footsteps as I walked up and
down the aisles. Involuntarily, I found
myself studying the hands before me as
if they had been faces. There was
Harry Sanford's, large and plump, and
fabby withal, but not over clean. His
"n's" stood weakly upon their legs,
seeming to feel the need 6f 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 ms" If not
handsome, were certainly plain, and
looked as if they knew their place, and
meant to keep L..
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" qUere ems" and could not be
mistaken for anything else.
At length l came to Frank Dunbar's
desk-dear little Frank, who had been
a real help and comfort to me since the
day when he bashfuJly knocked at my
door, with books and slate in hand. His
hand was white and shapely; fingers
spotless, nails immaculate, and his Ems
but what was it that sent cold chill
over me as looked at them All, my
dear, if [ should live thousand years,
! could never tell you how [ felt when I
found that Frank Dunbar had written
half dozen letters upon the opposite
page of his copy-book.
"Why, Frank, said I, chow did that
happen"
"You did 1t before I spoke - said I,
clinging to foriorn hope.
Ono, m; did it afterw@d. l for
got"
"Oh, Frank my good, good boy
How could you? I shall nave 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 I walked the aisles
.agaln>-up and down, up and down,
giving a caution here and a word of ad-
vice there, but not knowing in the least
what [ was about. My thoughts were
all with the faxen-haired cul prit, who
stood bravely awaiting his penalty.
Vaiply [ strove to listen to my inward
monitor. It seemed suddenly to have
become two-voiced-theo one tantal;ziIler
the ot.4er soothing-and, of course, the
tones were conflicting.
" You must punish him, " said one.
"You mustn't" said the other.
"He deserves it."
"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 p
I did look at them. Walter Lanes
sharp black eyes and Harry Sanford's
sleepy orbs we're fixed curiously upon
me. Nor were these all. Gray eyes,
blue eyes, hazel and brown eyes-all
we're regarding me intently almost
fancied that they looked at me pityingly.
could not bear it.
"Attend to your writing, boys"
Then I walked slowly up to the desk.
"You see how it is" said the trouble
some voice. "You will certainly have
to punish him."
But I had thought of possible plan
of escape. Frank, " said l, "you have
been disobedient, and-you know what
I said, but-you are such good boy
that I cannot bear to punish you-not
in that way, I mean. You may go to
the foot of your class. instead"
ED 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
a tremble in the clear, childish voice.
Bless your brave little heart,
thought I. "Of course you would I
might have known it." and again I
walked the aisles, up and down, think
ing, thinking.
"You will have to do it, repeated the
voice. "There is no other way"
6 I can not,-oh, can't" I groaned,
half aloud.
"The good of the school requires it
You must sacrifice your own feeling
and his"
"Sacrifce his feelings! Loyal little
SOUL good as gold, and true as steel"
" No matter, you must do it."
81 UOn't!'