Say and Seal Volume I Part 13

"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 unblushingly, "'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."

"How did you try him?" growled Mr. Simlins. "I'd like to know how much he's up to. _I_ haint found it out yet."

"I tried him, sir," said the Squire, "I tried him with a cla.s.sical story. Now Miss Faith gave in at once, and said _she_ didn't know what it was; but t'other one made believe as though he knew all about it.

And if a man aint cla.s.sical, Mr. Simlins, what is he?"

"I aint cla.s.sical," growled Mr. Simlins again, "but then I don't set up for to be. I s'pose that makes a difference, Squire; don't it?"

"Some people's more than they set out to be, and some people's less,"

replied the Squire.

"Well,--does _he_ set up for to be cla.s.sical in school? What does he teach 'em?"

"I reckon he sets up for 'most everything he ever heard spoke of, Mr.

Simlins. Teach 'em? why he teaches 'em out of all sorts o' superflus books!"

"Does!" said Mr. Simlins with a surprised look. "Our boys don't want none o' your superficies. They've got their bread to make. Give us an invoice o' them books, Squire."

"Just you look at 'em for yourself, Mr. Simlins--then you'll know. Step down there some day in school time and look over the boys. Now I can understand figurs with any man, but _what's_ the use o' crosses and straight lines and Vs turned wrong side up?"

Mr. Simlins pushed back his chair and rubbed his chin.

"Well Squire--you and me are trustees--what in your judgment and opinion had we ought to do, in these precedents?"

"Get rid on him--_I_ say," replied the Squire promptly. "Then here he is, leadin' all the girls round town, and for all any one of 'em knows he's a married man."

"Humph I think so?--What do the folks say of him?" said Mr. Simlins.

"There's Mrs. Derrick--what does _she_ say of him--he's in her house, she ought to have an idee. And Faith--now I'd take that gal's judgment on a most anything--What do _they_ think about him, Squire?"

"Never asked 'em a word," said the Squire stoutly--"nor heard 'em say one, neither. But he gets fur'n letters all the time, Widow Stamp says--and female writin' too. Who knows but he's got a wife in some fur'n country?--or two"--added the Squire, without specifying where the plural belonged. "I'm a justice of peace, Mr. Simlins, and this shouldn't be let go on."

Mr. Simlins looked up from under his brows with a queer look at his host.

"If he has _two_, he must want the school--bad!"--said he. "Well Squire, I'll go along and see what can be done. If I was you, mean time, I'd not say much to no one. There's Judge Harrison, you know;--we can't act without him. Good night t'ye! Squire, I guess he haint _two?_--Anyhow, I wouldn't let fly no warrants till I saw my bird sitting somewhere. It's bad to have 'em hit in a wrong place."

And it was well it was darkish and n.o.body to look at him; for Mr.

Simlins went grinning pretty much all the way between Squire Deacon's house and the house of Mrs. Derrick, where Mr. Linden was entertaining his shadow in the moonlit porch.

"Good even to you!" growled Mr. Simlins as he came up. The grin was gone, and the farmer stood with his wonted solemnity of face and manner. "Where's the rest o' your folks?"

"The rest of _my_ folks are a good way off, Mr. Simlins," said the person addressed, giving the questioner his hand; while his shadow exchanged civilities with the shadow of Mr. Simlins. "When did you come back? I am glad to see you?"

"I'm glad to see myself," said Mr. Simlins. "There's no State like Connecticut, sir. Where's _your_ bringin' up place?

"No one place has had that honour, Mr. Simlins,--I have been brought up from one to another."

"Not Connecticut, eh?"

"Not altogether--I am here just now, as you see,--getting a part of my education. I am one of the Say and Seal people in a way. Won't you come in, Mr. Simlins?"