Volume I Part 13 (1/2)
”Well--are the other boys learnin' yet?” said Mr. Simlins, as he spread a slice of bread pretty thick with b.u.t.ter.
”S'pose so”--said Joe,--”all they kin.”
”It's hard work!” said Mr. Simlins. ”I feel it now! Never ploughin'
made my back ache like learnin'. I wonder whatever they made me school trustee for, seein' I hate it like pison. But s'pose we mustn't quarrel with onerous duties,” said the farmer, carrying on sighing and bread and b.u.t.ter and tea very harmoniously together. ”I shouldn't mind takin'
a look at your last copy-book, Joe, if it would be agreeable.”
”O Mr. Linden kep' that,” said Joe unblus.h.i.+ngly, ”'cause it was so good lookin'.”
”He was so fond of you?” said Mr. Simlins. ”How come he to let you go?”
”I staid away,” said Joe, drumming on the back of Miss Cecilia's chair.
”Cilly's got the rest of the copy-books--she likes the writin' too.”
”Joe, behave yourself!” said his sister. ”Mr. Simlins knows better than to believe you.”
”Did you ever get flogged, Joe, for bad writin'?” said the farmer.
”Worse'n that!” said Joe, shaking his head,--”I've had to do it over!”
”Now you've got to do it over for me,” said Mr. Simlins. ”You write your name for me there--the best you kin--and 'Pattaqua.s.set, Connecticut'--I want to see what the new school's up to.”
”No”--said Joe--”I aint agoin' to do it. You ask one of the other boys.
It wouldn't tell you nothin' if I did, 'cause I learned writin'
afore,--and I didn't go to him but four weeks, besides.” And Joe at once absented himself.
”Is it workin' as straight with all the rest of 'em as it is with him?”
said Mr. Simlins. ”You and me's got to see to it, you know, Squire--seein' we're honorary individuals.”
”Yes,” said Squire Deacon, rousing up now Joe was gone--he had a wholesome fear of Joe's tongue--”Yes, Mr. Simlins,--and it's my belief it _wants_ seein' to--and he too.”
”Joe,”--said Mr. Simlins. ”Ne-ver fear--he'll see to himself.”
”Here's some of _his_ writin',” said Joe, returning with a spelling book. ”All the boys gets him to write in their books.” And laying it down by Mr. Simlins, Joe took his final departure.
”What do the boys want him to write in their books for?” growled Mr.
Simlins, surveying the signature.
”I believe,” said Miss Cecilia, ”he is very popular in the school.”
”Well, Squire,” pursued Mr. Simlins, ”can Joe clinch this?”
”He aint with me--if that's what you mean,” said Squire Deacon. ”A man's writing don't prove much.”
”Don't go no furder,” said Mr. Simlins a.s.sentingly. ”Well Squire--if _you_'ll go furder I shall be wiser.”
And freed from the fear of contradiction, the Squire had not the least objection to going further.
”He's not the man to have here,” said Squire Deacon,--”I saw that the first day I saw him. I tried him,--and he didn't toe the mark.”