Bushy a romance founded on fact
little man teacher. I went over and shook the tall boy till his teeth
jingled, and when he tried to slap me I boxed him on both sides of his
face, and was going to tell him what I thought of him; when the little
man teacher marched me off to a stool in a corner of the room, and put
a pretty paper cap on my head, and said I could sit there for awhile.
I got my slate and learned just the same. Now, see this number”--she
put her finger on No. 3--“I put down when the teacher told Mike to
stop picking his teeth. ‘You must make your toilet before leaving your
home,’ he said, ‘and cut your finger-nails, too!’ Jimminy! I asked if I
could come home to cut mine, but the teacher said for me to wait till
to-morrow.”
Bushy’s finger followed each number on the slate, and she told each
story that had caused her to jot down a memorandum.
“Just behind me sat a wee bit of a girl in a pink dress, like the
one Rover spoiled for me. She had such a tiny mouth it looked like
a catfish mouth. I couldn’t look at her without wondering what she
would do if a fish-hook caught her. The teacher told me to study, and
she made a face at me. Big-mouthed Tom I like better than any of the
children, but blue-nosed Lucy was good, too. She took me on her side at
recess, and when we played ‘pull-away’ we won, of course. Recess was
a few minutes for us to go about in and stretch our legs and try our
voices.
“It was twenty minutes long, so big-mouthed Tom took me into the
bowling-alley back of the school-room and we watched the men bowl. They
didn’t play any great game. The teacher doesn’t allow the scholars to
play in the bowling-alley. I can’t see why.
“A little girl named Libbie got in a swing and a bad boy tried to push
her out. I tripped him, and he told the teacher on me, so I had to sit
on the funny stool again after recess. It was a nice place. I could see
everything that was going on all the time. They called it the dunce-cap
that I wore. I didn’t mind it. It was red and pretty.
“Libbie stuck her gum on the side of her desk, and when she was reading
for the teacher the big boy hooked it. He winked at me and whispered,
‘I am going to keep it.’ That was very mean, I thought, and forgot I
was to sit on the stool. I walked over and took it away from him.
“The teacher said he would punish me if I moved again.
“Billy Sholtz had the nose-bleed, and his face got awful white. He kept
blowing his nose all the time. Now, Shanks, you know that makes it
bleed worse. I told the teacher so, but he paid no attention to me.
“It bled and bled and bled until poor Billy got frightened and white,
and began to cry. The teacher sent after the doctor, but he was in
Eureka Gulch. I couldn’t stand it any longer. I left the stool and ran
to him and held his nose tight between my thumb and finger.
“He began to caper about the room, and I kept saying, ‘I can stop it
if you will just hold still.’ He ran away to the other side and fought
me, but I clung to his nose, and by the time he fell down, tired out, I
knew the blood had had time to clot, and sure enough it bled no more.
Then, of course, the teacher put cold water on the back of his neck,
and made him sniff it up his nose till he was well. When I went back
to the stool the teacher looked sorry, and all the children laughed
because I held Billy’s nose.
“A girl who chewed gum in school divided with me, and we chewed all
day. The teacher made us both march up and chew for the school. I
didn’t see any great fun in that, but the other children did.
“I almost died when we had to sit ten minutes with our hands folded.
Oh! oh! it is dreadful to stay all day in school.”
“But what did you learn?” asked Tom, as he put the kettle of water on
and dropped the potatoes in one by one.
“Learn? Why, look on my slate. I have got enough to keep me going for
a year. I tell you, Tom, I’d have fits if I had to remember any more
until I get this all perfect.”
She pushed Rover away with one foot, reached for her slate and read
aloud, so they all might know what she had considered her lesson for
the day.
“Take off your hat when you go into a house--if you are a boy.
“Don’t talk about anybody’s clothes before them.
“Don’t play smart and tell what you can do; let people find it out.
“Don’t fight a boy bigger than yourself, if there is a dunce-stool and
a dunce-cap in the room. You will have to sit on it all day.
“I must not pick my teeth or cut my finger-nails when away from the
tent.
“Children with little mouths are not so good as boys with big ones.
“Blue-nosed people are not so hard to get along with as red-nosed ones.
“Children must not play in the bowling-alley; it is not nice.
“It is all right to disobey the teacher if a boy gets the nose-bleed.
“I had better not go to school unless I can run home and turn
somersaults at recess. It makes me fidgety to sit still all day.”
“That will do,” called her father, as he joined Tom and Shanks in a
loud laugh; “come, let’s eat supper. I have an idea you were not a
promising pupil--no doubt you were naughty; I shall have to see the
teacher.”
“I just ran over,” interrupted a voice at the tent door, “to see----”
“Oh, Gee! It is the little teacher,” said Bushy, softly to Rover, and
she lifted the edge of the tent and dragged the buffalo robe and Rover
both out on the other side, and there, in the soft light that fills the
mountains just after the sun goes down, she stretched herself to listen.
She was in great dread that her father would make her go to school
again. “We will run off, Rover, sure as we live, if the Padre sends us
to read a poky book, and get the fidgets by sitting on one chair all
day.” Bushy listened.
“Ah, what is the little teacher saying? He won’t get us there again.”
She rolled up close to the flapping tent and lay still, but her heart
beat very loud, so loud she could not catch a word. This is what the
teacher was saying:
“It was quickly done, Mr. Sukolt. It was little Mary, the pet of the
school. She had been out where some boys were burning brush, and her
calico skirt caught fire. Of course, she was frightened ’most to death,
and set up such a screaming and crying that the other children were
panic-stricken and fled for the school-room.
“Your little girl was on the dunce-stool. It was just at the beginning
of the recess, and I had told her to sit still until she got permission
to get up. From the window she saw the child with the burning dress.
Before I knew what had happened, Bushy had thrown her slate on the
floor, and grabbed a coat belonging to one of the big boys that hung on
a nail near the window. She did not stop to go through the door, but
jumped out of the window, eight feet to the ground. Like a cat, she
fell feet-first. Little Mary was by this time running up the path to
the bowling-alley door. Bushy headed her off and threw her down on the
ground, rolled her in the coat, holding her face near the ground, so
the flames, which were rising, might not get into her mouth and nose.
She left Mary’s head out and threw herself across the body, tucking in
her own skirt about Mary’s neck. Then, working from the neck down, she
wrapped the coat tight and snug about the body.
“By the time we got to the spot little Mary was on her feet and
laughing--the child was too small to realize her danger, and, hence,
received no shock, for which I am thankful. Bushy and the older
children knew what a risk the little one had run, and when I examined
her and found only two small burns on her fat legs, my relief was
intense. The children were soon playing ‘pull-away,’ and Bushy, I
noticed, was one of the leaders in the game. I suppose she is all
right, but I thought I would rest easier,” added the teacher, “if you
assured me the child received no burns and is perfectly well. I fully
realize that little Mary’s life was saved by your daughter’s prompt
action. Had she run five minutes in the stiff breeze, nothing could
have saved her from being burnt to death.”
The three men looked about for Bushy. “She may be burnt badly,” said
Shanks, and he started around the tent. “She is a trump,” said Tom, and
he forgot his potatoes and went hunting around the other side of the
tent. Mr. Sukolt lifted the flapping edge and was at Bushy’s side by
the time the two men were there. She was asleep, with her head resting
on Rover.
She still clung to the slate that held the memoranda of what she had
learned the first day at school. The teacher leaned over her and read
the last line which Bushy had forgotten. It was this: “Little girls
must not play near fire when they wear calico dresses. They may get
burnt up. Everybody ought to wear a gunnysack one, like the kind Tom
makes for me.”
“Although Bushy has spent the day on the dunce-stool,” said the teacher
to Mr. Sukolt, “if most of my children were half as observing as this
slate proves your Bushy was to-day, I would indeed be proud of them as
pupils.”
CHAPTER XXX
“Would you be very unhappy, do you think, Bushy, if I were to leave you
here to attend the school for six months?” asked Mr. Sukolt early the
next morning, after Bushy had tried her one day on the dunce-stool.
“Oh, Padre!” cried Bushy, as she stopped washing dishes, and, with her
hands still wet, stepped out of the tent to talk with her father, who
was on his horse ready to ride off for the day. “I will stay if you
really want me to, but--” her lip trembled and two big tears trickled
down her brown cheeks--“I think I would die, away from you.” She leaned
against the horse and tried to stifle the sobs that would come up to
choke her.
Mr. Sukolt was serious, and his face looked troubled and sad. “It is
very hard to tell what to do,” he murmured, half to himself. “I must
not allow you to grow up in ignorance; and still, little girl, I feel
something like you--that is, I would die, away from my daughter; away
from my tomboy, my little wild girl.”
He reached over and patted her head. “Come, tell me what you think we
ought to do.”
Bushy’s face brightened. She had thought and thought about it during
the night. Not for a minute did she intend to disobey or be naughty;
still she had formed a plan, and now was her time to make it known.
“Padre, you know a lot--Tom told me so--and why can’t I get some books
and take them along with us into the mines? You can teach me, can’t
you? I will study harder than I would if in school. I’ll promise to get
every lesson you give me. Shanks can hear me if you are not home. Don’t
you think I would study, Padre?” she questioned, not understanding the
expression of her father’s face.
“If you promise, I think you would,” he said. “I am sure you wouldn’t
mean to break your word; but there is the association with children.
I think you ought to have some of them about you, instead of always
serious old men, like Tom and Shanks and----”
“And the best man in the world!” cried Bushy, leaping behind her father
on the horse.
“I don’t know what to make of children. They are always in trouble,
and some way I feel it my fault. Their legs and arms are so little I’m
frightened all the time. I’m sure they are going to get hurt. I’ll go
down to the school and buy some books, like Mike’s, and ask the ‘little
teacher’ how to do, and, then when you come home, I’ll be all ready to
start in with you and Shanks as my teachers. Oh, I am so happy! Do you
know, Padre, I love you more than school or anything in the----”
“There, go back to your dish-washing. Who ever heard of a little girl
making love to her father like that? Skip out, you fly-a-way! and see
that you have everything all ready to pack. Much depends on my business
trip to-day. We may start away by four in the morning to catch the
wagon-train that is in camp ten miles north of here.” Bushy waved the