Shepherdstown register. [volume] (Shepherdstown, Va. [W. Va.]) 1849-1955, 1898-06-09
"Well, Hayes, what is ," she


Coward" was the name frequently
hurled at him, in contemptuous tone,
when Miss Armstead was not within
hearing. He never resented it if
struck by another boy he never re-
turned the blow. He was timid boy,
owing more to unkind treatment than
to natural cowardice, but the boys
were not wise enough to discern this.
The school stood in a very
lonely place, having but one thing in
its favor as a location-it stood exact
" in the centre of the district, on a
back road seldom travelled, with white
birches, alders and heavier growth
of timber all about. Most of the schol-
ars came "cross lot" from different di-
rections. Miss Armstead, herself,
came and went across the fields to
shorten her walk and a number Of her
flock kept her company.
There was a brook, which they
crossed on stepping-stones, but Hayes,
whose route home lay that way, would
almost invariably spring up the near
est tree, swing himself hand over hand,
from branch to branch and drop to
the ground on the opposite side of the
stream before half the children were
over, and then he would help the
smallest across.
He was always kind to dumb ami
mails.
A mouse had visited the school-room
frequently, coming from crack in the
floor, and bare feet would be quickly
drawn up whenever it appeared.
With some shingles and bit of
twine Hayes fashioned trap, baited
it with a scrap of cheese from some
bodys dinner-basket, and the next
morning the mouse was a prisoner.
Some of the boys thought there would
be some sport now in killing the trem-
bling little thing, but Hayes thought
differently. He kept the little crea-
ture safe all day and on the way home
opened the trap near barn and the
mouse scampered away unhurt.
Tim Adams cried, Coward"
Bessie, Tins sister, slipped her lit
tie hand into Hayes's and with an in
dignant look at her brother, said, "You
ain t coward, be you, Hayseed p
Eyes, spose so, said Hayes, "the
boys all say | am.
Not long after this, sad thing hap
pened. Farmer Adams, the father Of
Bessie and Tim, was gored to death by
a bull that attacked him in his barn
yard. Mr.. Adams had been district
committeeman, and the school was
closed the day Of his burial.
Most Of the scholars attended the
funeral, and every night since then,
on their way home with Miss Arm
stead, they had talked Of him as they
passed his old home. The bull was
kept in the barn yet, they knew, al
though he was soon to be sold. Sew
eral pairs of eyes, with looks Of fear
in them, gazed at the thick oaken
door of the barn and crowded more
closely around Miss Armstead as they
passed it.
Tim and Bessie had come back to
school very sad and quiet they were,
too. A week after the terrible occur
renee they were on their way home;
Hayes and several more were with
them and Miss Armstead.
For a quarter Of mile before you
reached the Adams homestead a rocky
precipice bordered one side Of the
road; there was a board fence ten
feet in height on the other side, which
enclosed plot of ground used as
race course and also as a base ball
ground. 1t was only two miles from
large town, and in the summer time
the grounds were frequently in use.
One evening Miss Armstead and
the scholars had gone about half the
length of the fence, when down the
road they saw cloud of dust moving
toward them.
Miss Armstead OWNED the cause.
The children, with the exception of
Hayes, had noticed it, but soon faint,
ominous roar came to their ears.
The bull has got loose, Miss Arm
stead, and is coming for us" 1t was
Hayes that said this, but in a very
quiet manner.
In a moment the children were in
panic, clutching Miss Armstead's
dress and screaming. What should
she do? For an eighth of mile in
each direction was that high board
fence, which no one could scale, and
on the other side that rocky precipicel