Bellows Falls times. [volume] (Bellows Falls, Vt.) 1856-1965, 1894-08-02

to me, and that 1 have never been of
any benefit to any one of them.
Still, | have sometimes thought that
l was, once and in a strange way, to
the strangest scholar l ever had. Be-
fore thinking even of this scholar, and
this story, l have to review my face,
and my whole character, in my mental
vision, as before a glass, to establish, as
it We're, my own reliability to myself.
Is it likely that anybody, who looks
like that, should tell herself that she
saw what she did not see, or heard
what she did not hear? Is it likely that
anybody, who is like that, should?
But, after all, was never given to
saying things that weren't plain COM
mon sense. Still, it has always kind of
seemed to me, when | thought of that
time in Marshbrook, that it didn't ring
like any known metal. But there may
be some metals that really are on earth,
though they are not known, suppose,
and anybody might hear them ring,
and be honest enough about it.
1t was just 25 years ago to-day, that
went to Marshbrook to teach the Num-
Der One district-school. 1t was right
in the middle of the spring-time. /
had given up my old school, because l
was expecting to be married that May.
But when found out he'd changed his
mind toward me, 1 felt as if l had
ought to go to work again. I'd laid
out good deal of money on my clothes,
and l knew I'd have to make it up
some way, as long as l was always go
ing to have nobody but myself to de-
pend on, the way l Railways had.
Maria Rogers had my old school.
n, u n1 no r,% g.
teach it, when L gave it up, and it
wasn't more N three weeks before he
began to go with her. She was good
looking, always smiling, though it
always seemed to me it was kind of
set-looking, and / couldn't smile easy
even if l felt like it. Her hair curled,
too. / tried to curl mine, but it
wouldn't look like hers. 1 wouldn't
believe it at first when folks came and
told me he was going with her, and
they thought l ought to know but
after a while [ saw enough to satisfy
me, myself. l wrote him letter, and
told him, I'd found out he had changed
his mind, and he had my best wishes
for his welfare and prosperity, and then
/ began to look out for another school.
He didn't marry Maria Rogers till the
spring term was through. She wanted
the money for her wedding-clothes.
She was a poor girl, or / could have
had my old school. AS it was, she had
him, and my school, too.
| don't know as [ should have got
any till fall, if the teacher at the Num-
Der One district in Marshbrook hadn't
left sudden. One of the committee
came for me the next day, and said I'd
got to go there, whether or no. | asked
why the other teacher had left, and he
said she wasn't very well,-"kind of
hysteriky," he called it. He was an
old man, and doctor. looked him
straight in the face when he spoke, and
1 knew there was something behind
what he said, and he knew | did.
"I'll give you so cents week more,
seeing as you come to oblige,u says he.
every WE'LL" says |. 1 knew what it
all meant. | had heard about district
Number One in Marshbrook, ever since
could remember. They never could
keep a teacher there through the spring
term. There wasn't any trouble fall,
and winter, but the teacher would leave
in the spring term. They always tried
exactly what they left for. l rather
to tell maybe paid them little extra.
Anyway, nobody ever knew exactly
what it was, but it got whispered round
there was something wrong about the
Number One school-house.
Nobody but stranger OF somebody
that was along in years and pretty cour-
ageous could be hired to go there and
teach the spring term. The chances
were that old Doctor Emmons couldn't
get another soul besides me for love or
money, and if wouldn't go, the school
would have to be shut up till fall. But
1 didn't care anything about the stories.
/ never was one of the kind that listen,
and bark, and screech, and had had
enough real things to worry about.
Then 1 had kind of feeling then,-I
suppose it was wicked, that it didn't
matter much what happened anyway,
after what had happened.
So just packed up my trunk, while
Doctor Emmons waited, and then he
put it in behind in his wagon, and car
ried me over to Marshbrook 1t was
about six miles away.
Marshbrook was named after the
brook there, that runs through marshy
land, and gets soaked up in it some
seasons of the year. That spring it was
quite high, and the land all around it
was yellow as gold with cowslips. We
rode beside it quite ways, and the
Doctor said his wife had boiled cowslip
greens twice. He talked considerable
about such things being better for folks
| to eat than meat, too. He didn't say a
word about the school, till he set me
down at the house where 1 was going
to board. Then he said looked as if l
wasn't fidgety, and he hadn't any no
ton but what should get along well
and like the school. Then he said, kind
of as if he hated to, but thought he'd
better, that he guessed might just as
well make up my mind not to stay
after school at night much, and not to
keep the scholars. The school-house
was in rather a lonesome place, and
some stragglers might come along
then, too, it was rather damp there, be.
ing near the brook, after the dew fell
and he didn't think it was very
healthy. 1 said, every WELL" Then
Mr.. Orrin Simonds, the man where ]
was going to board, came out, and they
carried my trunk betwixt them into
the house.
l began school the next morning, and
got along well enough. The school was
quite large one, about 40 in it, and