JANIE'S SCHOOL DAYS
Janie was sixteen years old, but she looked as though she might be onlythirteen as she sat on the front seat of the little schoolhouse far up onthe mountainside of Kentucky. Her black hair was plastered tightly to herhead. Her calico dress was much too long and the sleeves were much tooshort. Mother had made it long so that she might wear it for severalyears, while the sleeves were short so that she might have no excuse fornot getting her hands in the dish water. Her bare feet were very dirty buther face shone from its recent scrubbing.
This was a great day for Janie, for the missionary had once again come tothe schoolhouse. It had been three years since she was there before, andall that time Janie had waited for her. So she had hurried with her workin order that she might sit on the very front seat and hear every word.Last time she had told much about the school many miles away and Janie hadsaid over and over to herself, "I shall go there; I shall go there." Butof course it was foolish to say so, for there wasn't any chance that sheever could go. Why, there were seven brothers and sisters younger thanshe, and she had to work all day long to help to get them enough to eat.She could never go.
But she listened eagerly as the missionary told of all that was being donein the little schoolhouses all about the mountains and of the need ofteachers to do the work.
"We like best to take a boy or girl from some hamlet and let them workwith us for several years and then send them back to their own homes toserve there. I am wondering if there isn't a girl here who would like tobe the teacher here and help to make Round Creek what it ought to be. Ifthere is such a one, send them to us and we will do our best. If you willpay $10 a term, we will do the rest."
Janie's little body was leaning far forward and her eyes were big withexcitement. She knew a girl that would like to go. But $10 a term! Why,one dollar seemed big in their home. So she crept out into the darkness ofthe night without saying a word to any one about her great, big longing.But up in the loft of the log house she lay long after the rest went tosleep trying to think of a way. Auntie was coming to stay with them in thefall. If she could just get the ten dollars by that time, maybe she couldbe spared for a term. That would help a little, anyway.
In the morning she loosened one of the boards of the woodshed. Beneath itshe placed a little tin can, and in the can she put the five pennies thatshe owned. It was berry time and she thought she knew of a way to earnsome money that should be all her own. Near the mill, there were beautifulpieces of bark. In the woods there were many rare ferns. She would makesome little baskets like she had made many times for the home, fill themwith ferns and try to sell them when she went into the town with theberries. It meant getting up at four instead of five, but she could dothat. It meant getting the ferns when the rest of the children wereplaying at lunch time--but that wasn't hard. And after her first day intown she had fifty cents to put into the cup. Oh, how rich she felt!
An extra quart of berries here and there, some flowers sold from herlittle garden patch on the hill, two little kittens sold instead of beingdrowned--and so the money in the cup grew very, very slowly and no onedreamed it was there. But her dream grew with the contents of the cup. Shecould see herself all dressed in a neat dress going up the hill to theschool and the little children following her and calling her teacher.
But in August, George fell from the hay-mow and for days he lay therewhite and still. Mother had done all she could and there was no money tosend for the doctor. Then it was that a little black-haired girl went outin the shed and for the first time counted the money in the cup--one, two,three, four, five, six, almost seven dollars. Long she looked at it. Thenshe went into town to do the errand for her mother and five of theprecious dollars were counted into the hands of the doctor with therepeated statement,
"Tell mother that you happened to be going by and just stopped, so all sheneeds to pay you is a dollar, for she has that."
So mother never knew, nor did the sick boy know, of the sacrifice the girlhad made. Auntie came and went, and because it was winter the money in thecup hardly increased one bit. Sometimes she was almost discouraged, butthen she would say to herself,
"Why, it took years and years for Abraham Lincoln to get to the WhiteHouse. It doesn't matter if it takes twenty years. I am going to get tothat schoolhouse. I will be a teacher."
She could crochet and she could embroider, so these helped a bit. Sheplanted more things in her own garden and the money from these was herown. So again as the summer drew to a close, she knew there must beseveral dollars in the cup--but she daren't count it, for if it should beten and still she couldn't go--oh, that would be worse than all!
It was five days before school was to open that there came a letter fromgrandmother saying that she was coming to stay for the winter, and whilemother was happy over this, Janie asked if she might not be spared to goto school. At first there was a firm "No" for an answer. But she begged sohard to be allowed to go for only one term that she saw signs of relentingin her mother's face. Then she ran to get the cup--and in it was nearlynine dollars.
Where should she get the rest? Mother had none--yet she must have it.There was only one way. She could sell Biddy, her pet hen whom she lovedso much. She would ask her brother to take her in the morning, for shecould never do it herself. So with tears in her eyes, she patted her petand put it into a box ready for the morning. Oh! ten dollars was such alot of money for a little girl to get!
It was thirty miles to the school, so she had only one day to get ready.But she had few clothes and so it was an easy matter. She put them neatlyin a bundle and with a queer feeling underneath the little red dress, nowtoo short instead of too long, she started bright and early to walk thethirty miles to school. Many times she turned to look back at the littlelog cabin till it was hidden from her sight by a turn in the road. Thensomehow she felt very much alone in the world.
On and on she walked till at last, twenty miles from home, she came to thehome of an old neighbor and rested for the night. It was two in theafternoon of the next day when she saw in the distance the large brickbuilding which she knew must be the school. She longed to run to it buther feet were very sore and her body was very tired. So she trudged ontill she came to the office.
"Please, Miss, I have come to school. I can only stay one term but I cameanyway and here is the money. The missionary lady said you would do therest," and she handed her the precious money.
"And to whom did you write about entering?" said the lady kindly.
"To nobody. You see I didn't know I could come till Tuesday," said Janie.
"Well, I am so sorry," said the lady, "but you see we have all the girlswe can possibly take. So we can't have you this term. Perhaps you couldcome next term if you leave your name now."
The whole world seemed to fall from under Janie's feet. She was here,thirty miles from home. She had all the money--she had sold dear oldBiddy--yet she could not stay. Not a word did she answer. She just stoodand stared into space.
"I am very tired for I have walked thirty miles to get here. May I stayjust for to-night?" she asked, rolling the ten dollars carefully in herbig handkerchief.
"School doesn't open till to-morrow but we will tuck you in somewhere forto-night. I am so sorry for you, but we just haven't a bit of room afterto-morrow. Sit down on the porch and rest yourself," said the lady.
She brought her a glass of milk and then left her alone with her thoughts.How could she go home? Perhaps there would never come a time when shecould be spared again. Was there no way in which she could stay?
Ten minutes later, a little girl in a short red calico dress went down thesteps and along the street, looking for a doctor's sign. When she foundit, she rang the bell and asked for the doctor.
"Please, sir," she said, "I thought you might know some one who wanted agirl to work for them. I want to go to school this term and I have earnedthe money to come. And now that I am here, there is no place for me and Imust walk the thirty miles back. But I am willing to work. I will work fo
rnothing if only I can go to the school in the afternoon. Sir, I just mustbe a teacher and I just must stay now and get started."
The doctor whistled a little tune before he answered. "And tell me how youearned the money to come." Then he whistled another tune as she talked."Stay here to-night," he said. "I will find out at the school just howmuch they will let you come in the afternoons. I am sure you can find workenough, so don't worry."
And sure enough, he found a place for her and so she started with the reston the very first morning. She was radiantly happy till she heard a boysay,
"Look at the red dress that is coming in! Better loan her a redhandkerchief to piece it down with."
Then she knew that she was different from the rest. Her shoes were coarseand rough. Her hair looked, oh, so different. Her hands were red and big.She was here where she had longed to come but oh, how unhappy she was! Shewas almost ready to cry. Instead she shook her head proudly and said toherself, "I will be a teacher. What do I care if they laugh?"
The lessons were very hard, for her preparation was not good; every minutethat she could spare she must spend on getting ready for the next day, soshe had little time to be lonely. But she still minded the fact that herclothes were so very different. Many a good cry she had in the quiet ofher little room as she looked at the red dress laid out for the comingday.
The term sped by and she was making good. Oh, if she could only stay! Butshe had no money except the little that the good doctor had given her nowand then for doing errands for him. She could take her books home andperhaps she could do it all by herself.
So she waited till almost the last day before she told the woman for whomshe worked that she was leaving.
"Why, girlie," she answered, "you have much more than ten dollars comingfrom me. I have never paid you because the doctor told me you would askfor it if you needed it. I will give it to you and then you can go and payyour ten dollars. I wouldn't have you go home for anything."
Clasping her precious money in her hand, she flew up the stairs. Here wasa letter from her brother also. What a happy day! Eagerly she opened itand read,
"Mother is counting on your coming home for we need your help badly. Thecow has died and we are without milk till we can get another. Motherthinks she must spare you at home and let you work out to earn money."
Oh! Oh! She was needed! She must take the money she had earned to help tobuy a cow and again she must forget school. So she went again to hermistress, told her story and began to prepare for the long walk. She wentto the school, borrowed the books, and promised them she would surely comeagain. Then she went again to the old doctor who had been so kind to her.
He listened thoughtfully as she told him of her new plans which still hadnot changed her vision of being a teacher.
"I will come back, even though it be after four or five years. I willcome," she said, and she rose to go.
Then the doctor turned to his desk and took from it the picture of agirl.
"That was my little girl," he said. "She, too, wanted to be a teacher andshe was in this very school when sickness and death came. When you came tome that first morning and said, 'I just must be a teacher,' I could hearher say to me, 'Help her.' So I did what you asked me to do--got you aplace to work for nothing though I knew you were to be paid. I havewatched you work, I have watched you suffer because of the red dress; Ihave watched you try to do your duty at the sacrifice of yourself. And nowthat you have done all that you can, I am ready to do the rest. Send themoney that you have earned to your mother to help to buy the cow. Come tolive here and be my office girl. The money that you earn can go to yourmother for I will do for you what I would have done for her and I will doit for her sake and because you have shown me that you are worth while.You _shall_ be a teacher."
So Janie lived in the home of her new friend. There was help on herlessons, the old red dress went back to the little home in the hills to beworn by some one whom it would fit and in her new, pretty things she couldsee more plainly--Janie, the teacher.
Fireside Stories for Girls in Their Teens Page 16
