A Waif of the Mountains. Ellis Edward Sylvester
they would refuse to admit the distinction, and would take him to task for teaching improper language to his young pupil. It caused him another shudder at the thought that the same penalty that Wade Ruggles had undergone might be visited upon him, though it is doubtful if the issue would have been similar.
“Ahem, Miss Nellie, when we go back home, will you promise me to say nothing about this part of your lesson?”
“You mean ’bout that bad word?”
“Yes,–let’s forget all about it.”
“I’ll try, but mebbe I’ll forget to forget it.”
“Likely enough,” gloomily reflected the parson; “suppose we try some other words. Ah, we have a visitor.”
At that moment Budge Isham climbed into view and sauntered smilingly toward them. Brush added a whispered warning to the little one not to forget her promise, though, since Isham was an educated man, there ought not to have been anything to fear in his case, but the teacher knew his waggish nature, and had good reason to fear the mischief he would delight in creating.
“Good day,” was his cheery greeting, as he came up; “I hope I am not intruding, but I thought I should like to see how you are getting on, Nellie.”
“Oh, Mr. Brush says I am learning real fast; I can spell ‘cat,’ and ‘dog,’ and ‘dam.’”
Budge raised his hands in horror.
“What in the name of heaven, parson, does she mean?”
“Mr. Isham,” said the gentleman, severely, “are you aware that you are using improper language in the presence of this young lady?”
“Explain yourself.”
“It is wrong for you to appeal to heaven on so trifling a question; it is such a near approach to profanity that the dividing line is imperceptible. I am sorry you forgot yourself, but I will overlook it this time.”
Budge was really frightened, for though the distinction was quite fine, he felt there was some justice in the position of the parson, but he bluffed it out.
“I doubt whether a jury would find me guilty, and in the meantime explain the remark just made by Nellie, if you please.”
Thus cornered, the parson made a clean breast of it. Isham assumed a grave expression.
“The only criticism I can make is upon your taste in selecting a word, susceptible of a questionable meaning. You know as well as I that if this should be submitted to a jury at the Heavenly Bower this evening, the majority would sit down on you, and it would be hard work for you to escape the penalty.”
“I’m afraid it would,” responded the parson; “it was a piece of forgetfulness on my part–”
“Which is the plea that Bidwell and Ruggles made, but it didn’t answer. However, I’ll say nothing about it, knowing you will be more careful in the future, while I shall not forget to put a bridle on my own tongue. The trouble, however,” he added with a smile, “is to make her overlook it.”
“She has promised she will do so.”
“Since that promise was made just before I got here, she has shown how readily she can forget it.”
“I will give her a longer lesson than usual and thus drive all remembrance out of her mind,” said the parson resolutely.
Budge Isham folded his arms, prepared to look on and listen, but the queen of the proceedings checked it all by an unexpected veto.
“Mr. Brush, I feel so tired.”
Her face wore a bored expression and she looked wistfully away from the blackboard toward the cabins below them.
“Does your head hurt you?” inquired the teacher with much solicitude, while the single auditor was ready to join in the protest.
“No, but mebbe it will hurt me one of these days.”
“It isn’t wise, parson, to force the child; a great deal of injury is done to children by cramming their heads with useless knowledge.”
The teacher could not feel sure that this counsel was disinterested, for there could be no danger of his taxing the mental powers of the little one too severely, but her protest could not pass unheeded.
“You have done very well, my child; you are learning fast, so we’ll leave the spelling for to-morrow. Suppose we now try the commandments: can you repeat the first one?”
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