Part 5 (1/2)
”Your true friend,
”PATRICK RILEY.”
CHAPTER IX.
BERTIE'S SPELLING MATCH.
Early in November, Mr. Curtis removed his family to Woodlawn; and Bertie commenced attending school. It was too far for him to walk, and now he found Whitefoot a greater convenience than ever. Close by the schoolhouse lived a farmer by the name of Camp, who readily agreed with Mr. Curtis to allow the donkey to stand in his barn during school hours.
Miss Esther Taylor, his former teacher, welcomed him back with great pleasure, for she had learned to love him like a brother. His health had now greatly improved by so much exercise in the open air, and he resolved to study hard through all the winter months.
I suppose there are many children more forward in their lessons than he was; but he had laid a good foundation for an education. He could read correctly, and with expression, and had begun Colburn's Mental Arithmetic. In geography he had only learned the general divisions of the globe, and had begun to draw upon his slate, islands, lakes, capes, peninsulas, etc., which greatly helped him to understand the explanations in his book.
In spelling, Bertie was rather backward, not being quick to learn the sounds of which the word was composed.
Miss Taylor was resolved her pupils should excel in arithmetic and spelling. In order to excite their ambition she allowed them twice a week to have what is called a spelling-match.
Two boys or two girls among the best spellers were chosen alternately by vote of the scholars, and these called out from among their mates the names of those they wished on their side. Of course each one wished the best spellers, in order that his side might win the prize, and as poor Bertie generally failed, he was left out.
After this had occurred two or three times, the little fellow began to feel mortified; and one night said to his mamma,--
”Will you please buy me a satchel? I'm going to bring home my spelling-book every night; and I can't carry it very well on Whitefoot's back, without it's in a satchel.”
Mrs. Curtis left the room, and presently returned with a small leather bag, to which a strap was attached.
”Will this do?” she asked.
”Oh, yes, mamma! that is just what I wanted.”
After this, mamma, and papa, and Mrs. Dodge, and Nellie, and Bertie, and Nancy had a great many spelling-matches, the rule being that every one who p.r.o.nounced the word must do so with the greatest distinctness, so that every letter as far as possible should be articulated.
Before the winter was past, Bertie's dislike to his spelling-book was wholly conquered, and he was called as often as any scholar to try for the prize in the spelling-match.
This was the first winter the children had ever pa.s.sed in the country.
When the snow began to fall, Winnie was delighted, and went out to catch the flakes on a piece of paper.
Their house was of a June temperature, while the new conservatory furnished bouquets and cut flowers in abundance.
It was not the intention of Mr. and Mrs. Curtis to keep aloof from the villagers. Indeed, by this time, the Oxford people well understood that the Squire and his wife were ready to befriend them whenever they were in distress.
The gentleman taught a cla.s.s in the Sabbath School, composed of married ladies who had never before been members.
Mrs. Taylor, who was one of the cla.s.s, often remarked she would arise long before light rather than to lose the opportunity of hearing the Bible explained in the simple, practical way the Squire performed the service.
It was a happy day for the good pastor of Oxford when Mr. Curtis purchased his farm at Woodlawn. From their first introduction, the hearts of these truly Christian persons were drawn toward each other.