Part 16 (1/2)

There was a silence in the Bear Canyon school-house until a little girl in a pink ap.r.o.n sobbed. Sobs were at a discount in Bear Canyon, and yet strangely enough no one laughed. Allan Jarvis, in the back seat, was intent upon his finger-nails. The others were gazing admiringly at their new teacher.

”It's such a sad story,” said the little girl, using her pink ap.r.o.n for a handkerchief, ”but I like it all the same.”

”Deary me!” cried the new teacher, depositing the two littlest ones on the floor, ”it's half-past four! We must close school at once!”

At that the big Jarvis boy left his seat and came down the aisle, for the first time in his life abstaining from pulling the hair of the girls nearest him.

”Shan't I get your horse ready for you, ma'am?” he asked.

The new teacher smiled gratefully upon him.

”If you please, Allan,” she said. ”I'll be ever so much obliged.” And Allan Jarvis departed for the horse sheds--a conquered hero!

Mary, tired but enthusiastic, told them all about it as they rode home together, followed at a respectful distance by a dinner-pail laden throng.

How she had arrived that morning to find Allan Jarvis the center of a mischief-bent circle; how she had begun the day by the most exciting s.h.i.+pwreck story she knew; and how the promise of another story before four o'clock had worked a miracle. They were starved for stories, she said. She thought they needed them more than arithmetic.

”Besides,” she added, ”probably the Sheridan person knows all about figures. I'm going to put all the arithmetic cla.s.ses the last thing in the afternoon, and if we don't get around to them, why all right. It's unfortunate, of course, but it can't be helped.”

One day was quite sufficient to establish the name and the fame of the Bear Canyon school-teacher. Around every supper-table circled tales of her wisdom, her beauty, her strange way of speaking, and her general superiority over any teacher Bear Canyon had ever hired. Her ability to tell stories was lauded to the skies, and her genius at making six hitherto mercilessly long hours seem like three marvelously short ones was freely advertised. History under this new teacher had become something more than a dog-eared text-book; geography more than stained and torn wall-maps; reading more than a torturesome process of making sounds. They proudly told their parents what the Const.i.tution of the United States had looked like when their teacher had last seen it; the size and shape of Plymouth Rock as recorded by her during her last visit there. They re-told her stories one by one to the children at home, too young for school.

Allan Jarvis did his part. He told his father he would go to school without a word, if the new teacher could be persuaded to stay in Bear Canyon.

Because of this Mr. Benjamin Jarvis left his work the third day, put on a clean s.h.i.+rt, and visited the school himself. Mr. Samuel Wilson joined him, as did the third trustee from farther up the canyon. When these three gentlemen entered, the oldest History cla.s.s was engaged in reproducing the trial of Nathan Hale, the leading man in the cast being the big Jarvis boy. It was a novel method of teaching history, the trustees said to themselves, remembering the barren instruction they had received, but it seemed effectual. That night they offered the new teacher a permanent job in Bear Canyon. The teacher in Sheridan was not over-anxious to come, they said, and the position was Mary's if she cared to accept it.

But Mary was going to college, she explained to the disappointed trustees.

Perhaps, some day, she would come back--some day when she had learned more about teaching. As it was, Friday night must end her labors, grateful as she was, and happy as she felt over the reception Bear Canyon had given her.

It came all too soon--Friday night. The children stood in a disconsolate little group to bid her good-by. They knew Bear Canyon teachers of old.

There would be no more stories, no more circuses at recess, no more flower hunts in the woods, no more plays. School now would become just a weary succession of days--all pointing toward Sat.u.r.day. Figures would take the place of reading, and the Rhine would again be just a crooked, black line, not a river surmounted by frowning castles and golden with legends.

The little girl in the pink ap.r.o.n again used it as a handkerchief as Mary rode down the trail.

”I--I'd go to school all my life--with her!” she said loyally.

The school-teacher halted at the residence of Mr. Benjamin Jarvis, second trustee. He it was who was to sign the check for her services, give to her the very first money she had ever earned. He was waiting for her, the check in his hand.

”I--I think I ought to tell you, Mr. Jarvis,” said Mary, ”especially since you're strong on figures in Bear Canyon, that I haven't taught many this week. I'm afraid I'm very weak on system. That will be one of the things I'll have to learn in college, I guess. The days have gone so fast I just haven't seemed to have time to get them in. And--and to tell the truth, Mr. Jarvis, I'm not very strong on figures myself.”

”Figures!” said Mr. Benjamin Jarvis as he shook hands with her. ”I guess you've given that boy o' mine somethin' better'n figures, G.o.d bless you!”

The boy himself came around the house just as Mary was mounting her horse to ride away. He had left school before the others, and had said no good-by. Now he came up to her, a brown paper parcel in his hand.

”It's a rattlesnake skin I fixed for you,” he said shyly. ”You said you liked 'em once. And the heavy thing in the end's my jack-knife. I carved your letters on the handle. I thought it might come in handy when you went to college.”

CHAPTER XV

MR. BENJAMIN JARVIS ENTERTAINS

Bear Canyon did not forget Mary. A score of heart-broken children was proof against such oblivion. Moreover, hope began to dawn in the hearts beneath pink gingham and outing flannel when the teacher from Sheridan, discouraged perhaps by a total lack of cordiality in her students, resigned after two lugubrious days of service. Then Mr. Samuel Wilson, accompanied by Mr. Benjamin Jarvis and the third trustee rode in a body to the Hunter ranch, and offered Mary a substantial ”raise” if she would only stay on until December, and finish the fall term so triumphantly begun.