Mineral Point tribune. (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1869-1938, 1881-09-22
NOW MISS JENKINS "GOT OUT OF
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Mary C. Bartlett in st. Nicholas for August
1t was ''writing afternoon Miss
Jenkins-and my scholars were new.
If you had ever been a teacher, my
dear, you would realize what the COM
binations of those two simple facts I'M
plies--the WEAKNESS of body and the
utter vexation of spirit. First, there's
the holding of the pen. If there's one
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, moth
ing more. To others it seemed an ire
sistible tempter, whispering of unique
designs, grotesque or otherwise, to be
worked out upon desk or jacket, or per-
haps upon the back OF one small hand
Well, upon the afternoon of which |
am going to tell you, 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 look
ing, and STOPPING, and continual show
ing, | felt my patience giving way, and
when | saw that three of the largest
boys had left the page upon which they
should have been practicing, and were
making unknown characters" in diff
ferent parts Of their books, lost it ut
tery. Chat | WW not have" said l.,
sharply. Il 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,
scratching of the pens, and the sound
of my footsteps as / walked up and
down the aisles. Involuntarily / found
myself studying the hands before me
as if they had been faces. There was
Harry Sanford's, large and plump, but
tiabby withal, and not over-clean. His
ms" stood weakly upon their legs,
seeming to feel the need of otner let
tiers to prop them up.
Walter Lanes, red and chapped
hands, with short, studded fingers, nails
bitten off to the quick had yet GER
tain 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.
Tommy Silver's, long and limp, be-
smeared with ink from palm to rail,
vainly strove to keep time with a
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 comeliness, and might have stood
for ''ys," or even "v'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 go but
his ms, acre ms" and could not be
mistaken for anything else.
At length I came to Frank Dun
bars desk dear little Frank, who had
been real help and comfort to me
since the day when he bashfully knock
ed at nv door, with books and slate in
hand. His hand was white and shapely:
fingers spotless, nails immaculate, and
his ''n's"-but what was it that sent a
cold chill over me as looked ut them =?
All, my dear, if / should live thou
sand years, / could never tell you how
| felt when | found that Frank Dun
bar had written half dozen letters
upon the opposite page of his copy
book
"Why, Frank" said I, chow did that
happen
i Il did it,"
II you did it before spoke ?" said /.
clinging to a forlorn hope.
No, IN; | did it afterward, | for
got"
ooh, Frank my good, good boy
How could you? / shall have to pun
ish YOU"
Yes, I'm" the brave blue eyes look
ing calmly up into my face.
Very well; you may go to my
desk
he went, and | walked the aisles
again-up and down, up and down,
giving caution here or a word of adj
wee there, but not knowing, in the
east what was about. Ny thoughts
were al with the fiaxen.haired culprit,
VINO stood bravely awaiting his pen
any Fainly / strove to listen to my
inward monitor 1t seemed suddenly
10 nave become two-voiced-the one
antallzing, the other 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
gwen your word. Here are thirty
boys to whom you should be an ex-
anpie. DO you think they are not
Watching you? Look at them"
did look at them. Walter Lanes