Chapter III: Dick at School

THE fall term of the District school commenced in September. It was hard at first for Richard to take his mind from his work, and fix it upon his studies. He was up in the morning as soon as it was light, to feed the horse and cow and groom them, to feed the pig, and milk, and sweep out the barn floor. Then after breakfast and family prayers he was off to work in the garden till mother rang the bell for him to dress for school. Sometimes he had to go on an errand for her, or his father, and hurry Eddy and little Lyman along, so that by the time he was seated behind his desk, he was often sleepy. But he loved study and soon roused himself, resolved to do this term, as he had last, and keep his place at the head of the class.

Fortunately for Dick, the teacher, Miss Wheeler, was every way worthy of her trust. She had studied the character of every scholar. She loved them and spared no pains to help them to progress in their studies.

Richard, her dear minister's son, was a special object of interest to her. She trusted him implicitly. She was very strict in her government, a little stiff in her manners, but occasionally was thrown off her guard by some witty answer, and laughed more heartily than she herself approved.

Every Wednesday there was declamation by the boys, and reading of composition by the girls. Richard, as his teacher always called him, was fond of speaking; and not being timid, generally carried off the palm. He gathered his pieces for these occasions from a Third Class Reader,—selections from the speeches of Webster, Clay or Everett.

"Richard Stuart, you may come to the desk," called Miss Wheeler one morning. "Have you your piece ready?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"What is the name of it?"

"The thunder storm."

"From what book did you learn it?"

"I didn't find it in a book. I found it in a paper."

"Are you sure you can say it without being prompted?"

"Oh, yes, ma'am!"

"Very well. I shall call you the first one after recess."

"The Thunder Storm, by Richard Stuart," called out the teacher at the appointed time.

Richard rose from his seat, and with a slight flush on his face, took his position on the platform, bowed and commenced, with great animation:

"The thunder roared,
The clouds grew big,
The lightning flashed,
And killed a pig."

He had made his parting bow and taken his seat, before either his teacher, or the scholars, had time to recover from their surprise. Miss Wheeler stood in front of her desk, a little ruler, with which she thumped upon it to call the scholars to order, in her hand, staring at the place where the boy ought to be, but where he was not. Then recovering herself in a degree, she glanced toward Richard, whose eyes were fixed on a book before him, a suspicious smile playing about his mouth. She could endure it no longer; but burst into a hearty laugh in which all the scholars joined.

"Richard," said the teacher after school, "how came you to get such a piece as that? I supposed from the name it would be very fine."

"I thought it was a good one; and it was easy to learn. I said it to father first."

"What did he say to it?"

"He didn't say any thing; but he laughed till he choked himself. You see, he thought 'twould be a long piece."

The next time Richard's selection was a poem on the Union by Whittier; and he received ten good marks for it.

The week following, there were visitors present; and among them the Pastor; Richard, being the best speaker, was called out among the first.

After his bow, he announced as his subject, "The Seasons;" and then went on.

"Some people like Spring best, some like Summer best;" then with a sudden burst of feeling clasping his hand on his heart, he continued, "But as for me, give me liberty or give me death."

When he bowed himself off the stage the clapping commenced, while the dignified teacher, struggling between her inclination to join the laugh and to maintain order blushed crimson.

"That speech is impromptu, I presume," she said addressing the boy. "I would like you to repeat the one you gave us last week."

So, Dick, nothing loath, came out again, and this time acquitted himself with honor.

Miss Wheeler was on her way home when she heard her name called, and presently, Richard overtook her.

"Didn't you like my piece?" asked looking shyly in her face.

"No, I don't think I did."

"Then I never shall speak another without showing it to you."

"Thank you for the promise, Richard, I am entirely satisfied now."