Part 28 (1/2)
Next came Mrs. Langmaid, a seaman's widow, and lastly Mrs. Toy, who noted that all the others had made themselves tidy for the ceremony, and at once began to apologise for her husband's appearance.
Aunt Butson cut her short, however, by ringing the school bell, and marshalling her five pupils back to their seats. The parents dropped themselves here and there among the many empty benches in the rear, and the schoolmistress, after rapping the desk with her cane, from force of habit, mounted the platform, uncovered the row of books, and began to arrange them with hands that trembled a little.
”Friends and neighbours, the reason I've called 'ee together is for a prize-giving. I'll have to say a word or two when that's done; but just now a prize-giving it is, and we'd best get to business. Girls: Maudie Hosken, first prize for good conduct; Ivy Nancarrow, consolation prize, ditto; Jane Ann Toy, extra consolation prize, ditto. Step up, girls, and take your books.”
Until Mrs. Hosken leaned forward and nudged her daughter in the back, the children did not budge, so bewildered were they by these sudden awards.
When Maudie, however, picked up courage, the other two bravely bore her company, and each received a book.
”Boys: 'Thaniel Langmaid, first prize for good conduct; Luke Toy, consolation prize for ditto.”
”Seemin' to me,” remarked Mr. Toy audibly, nudging his wife, ”there's a deal o' consolation for our small family.”
”Hus.h.!.+” answered his wife. ”There's as much gilt 'pon Lukey's book as 'pon any; an' 'tis almost as big.”
”Girls: English prize, Ivy Nancarrow--and I hope that in futur', whoever teaches her, she won't think L-A-M spells 'lamb.' Sums and geography prize, Maudie Hosken; junior prize, Jane Ann Toy.”
”Boys: General knowledge, 'Thaniel Langmaid; general improvement, Luke Toy.”
”That makes four altogether.” Mr. Toy jingled his s.h.i.+llings furtively.
”Look here, Selina,” he whispered, ”we'll have to pay the old 'ooman something on account. How else to get out o' this, I don't see.”
”An' now, friends an' neighbours,” began Aunt Butson resolutely, ”I've a-fetched 'ee together to say that 'tis all over; the school's come to an end. You've stuck by me while you could, and I thank you kindly.
But 'tis hard for one of my age to fight with tyrants, and tyrants and Government together be too much for me. I've a-taught this here village for getting-up three generations. Lord knows I never loved the work; but Lord knows I was willing to go on with it till He called me home.
Take a look at thicky there blackboard an' easel, bought but the other week; and here's a globe now, cost me fifteen s.h.i.+llin'--an' what'll I do with it?” She detached it from its frame, and before pa.s.sing it round for inspection, held it between her trembling palms. ”Here be all the nations o' the earth, civilised and uncivilised; and here be I, Sarah Butson, with no place upon it, after next Monday, to lay my head.”
She looked up with fierce, tearless eyes, and looking up, caught sight of Mr. Samuel Rosewarne in the doorway.
”Oh, good-morning, Mrs. Butson!” nodded Mr. Sam easily. ”I looked in to see if you'd collected your school-fees this week, as the law requires.
You are doing so, it seems?”
”Rosewarne--” Mrs. Butson stepped down from her platform, globe in hand.
”Eh? I beg your pardon?” But before the mischief in her eyes he turned and fled.
She followed him to the door.
”Take _that_, you thievin' Pharisee!”
The globe missed his head by a few inches, and went flying down the roadway toward the ferry. Aunt Butson strode back among her astonished audience.
”That's my last word to _he_,” she said, panting; ”and here's my last to you.” She picked up her chalk, advanced to the blackboard, and wrote rapidly, in bold, clear hand--
BLAST ALL EDUCATION!
”You may go, friends,” said she. ”I'd like to be alone, if you please.”
CHAPTER XVII.
PETER BENNY'S DISMISSAL.