/?/) L - Jo S^4AA4UQ I The Hoosier School-Boy The Hoosier School-Boy EDWARD EGGLESTON ILLUSTRATED NEW YORK CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 1883 COPYRIGHT, 1883, BY tDWARD EGGLESTON TROW'S PRINTING AND BOOKBINDING COMP 201-213 East Twelfth Street NEW YORK PS 3 CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. PAGE The New Scholar 9 CHAPTER II. K'.ng Milkmaid 17 CHAPTER III. Answering Back 22 CHAPTER IV. Little Christopher Columbus 29 CHAPTER V. Whiling Away Time 36 CHAPTER VI. A Battle 41 CHAPTER VII. Hat-Ball and Bull-Pen .. 47 CHAPTER VIII. The Defender 54 CONTENTS. CHAPTER IX. PAGE Pigeon Pot-Pie 60 CHAPTER X. Jack and His Mother 71 CHAPTER XI. Columbus and His Friends 75 CHAPTER XII. Greenbank Wakes Up 82 CHAPTER XIII. Professor Susan 86 CHAPTER XIV. Crowing After Victory 91 CHAPTER XV. An Attempt to Collect 98 CHAPTER XVI. An Exploring Expedition , 105 CHAPTER XVII. Housekeeping Experiences 109 CHAPTER XVIII. Ghosts nS CHAPTER XIX. The Return Home 125 CONTENTS. CHAPTER XX, PAGE A Foot-Race for Money 133 CHAPTER XXI. The New Teacher 142 CHAPTER XXII. Chasing the Fox 147 CHAPTER XXIII. Called to Account 154 CHAPTER XXIV. An Apology 159 CHAPTER XXV. King's Base and a Spelling-Lesson 165 CHAPTER XXVI. Unclaimed Top-Strings 168 CHAPTER XXVII. The Last Day of School, and the Last Chapter of the Story 174 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. ' Not There, Not There, My Child ! " , Frontispiece PAGE Jack Amusing the Small Boys with Stories of Hunting, Fishing, and Frontier Adventure 37 " Cousin Sukey," said Little Columbus, "I want to ask a favor of you." 87 "The Landing of Christopher Columbus" 113 Bob Holliday Carries Home His Friend 179 THE HOOSIER SCHOOL-BOY. CHAPTER I. THE NEW SCHOLAR. WHILE the larger boys in the village school of Green- bank were having a game of " three old cat " before school-time, there appeared on the playground a strange boy, carrying two books, a slate, and an atlas under his arm. He was evidently from the country, for he wore a suit of brown jeans, or woollen homespun, made up in the natural color of the " black " sheep, as we call it. He shyly sidled up to the school-house door, and looked doubtfully at the boys who were playing ; watching the familiar game as though he had never seen it before. The boys who had the " paddles " were standing on three bases, while three others stood each behind a base and tossed the ball round the triangle from one hole or base to another. The new-comer soon perceived that, if one with a paddle, or bat, struck at the ball and missed it, and the ball was caught directly, or "at the first 12 THE HOOSIER SCHOOL-BOY. bounce," he gave up his bat to the one who had "caught him out." When the ball was struck, it was called a " tick," and Avhen there was a tick, all the batters were obliged to run one base to the left, and then the ball thrown between a batter and the base to which he was running " crossed him out," and obliged him to give up his " paddle " to the one who threw the ball. " Four old cat," " two old cat," and " five old cat " are, as everybody knows, played in the same way, the number of bases or holes increasing with the addition of each pair of players. It is probable that the game was once some hun- dreds of years ago, maybe called " three hole catch," and that the name was gradually corrupted into " three hole cat," as it is still called in the interior States, and then became changed by mistake to " three old cat." It is, no doubt, an early form of our present game of base-ball. It was this game which the new boy watched, trying to get an inkling of how it was played. He stood by the school-house door, and the girls who came in were obliged to pass near him. Each of them stopped to scrape her shoes, or rather the girls remembered the foot-scraper because they were curious to see the new- comer. They cast furtive glances at him, noting his new suit of brown clothes, his geography and atlas, his arith- metic, and, last of all, his face. THE NEW SCHOLAR. 13 " There's a new scholar," said Peter Rose, or, as he was called, " Pevvee " Rose, a stout and stocky boy of fourteen, who had just been caught out by another. " I say, Greeny, how did you get so brown ? " called out Will Riley, a rather large, loose-jointed fellow. Of course, all the boys laughed at this. Boys will sometimes laugh at any one suffering torture, whether the victim be a persecuted cat or a persecuted boy. The new boy made no answer, but Joanna Merwin, who, just at that moment, happened to be scraping her shoes, saw that he grew red in the face with a quick flush of anger. " Don't stand there, Greeny, or the cows '11 eat you up ! " called Riley, as he came round again to the base nearest to the school-house. Why the boys should have been amused at this speech, the new scholar could not tell the joke was neither new nor witty only impudent and coarse. But the little boys about the door giggled. " It's a pity something wouldn't eat you, Will Riley you are good for nothing but to be mean." This sharp speech came from a rather tall and graceful girl of six- teen, who came up at the time, and who saw the annoy- ance of the new boy at Riley's insulting words. Of course the boys laughed again. It was rare sport to hear pretty Susan Lanham " take down " the impudent Riley. " The bees will never eat you for honey, Susan," said Will. 14 THE HOOSIER SCHOOL-BOY. Susan met the titter of the playground with a quick flush of temper and a fine look of scorn. " Nothing would eat you, Will, unless, maybe, a turkey-buzzard, and a very hungry one at that." This sharp retort was uttered with a merry laugh of ridicule, and a graceful toss of the head, as the mischiev- ous girl passed into the school-house. "That settles you, Will," said Pewee Rose. And Bob Holliday began singing, to a doleful tune : " Poor old Pidy, She died last Friday." Just then, the stern face of Mr. Ball, the master, ap- peared at the door ; he rapped sharply with his ferule, and called : " Books, books, books ! " The bats were dropped, and the boys and girls began streaming into the school, but some of the boys managed to nudge Riley, saying : " Poor old creetur, The turkey-buzzards eat her," and such like soft and sweet speeches. Riley was vexed and angry, but nobody was afraid of him, for a boy may be both big and mean and yet lack courage. The new boy did not go in at once, but stood silently and faced the inquiring looks of the procession of boys as they filed into the school-room with their faces flushed from the exercise and excitement of the games. THE NEW SCHOLAR. " I can thrash him easy," thought Pewee Rose. " He isn't a fellow to back down easily," said Harvey Collins to his next neighbor. Only good-natured, rough Bob Holliday stopped and spoke to the new-comer a friendly word. All that he said was " Hello ! " But how much a boy can put into that word " Hello ! " Bob put his whole heart into it, and there was no boy in the school that had .a bigger heart, a bigger hand, or half so big a foot as Bob Holli- day. The village school-house was a long one built of red brick. It had taken the place of the old log institution in which one generation of Greenbank children had learned reading, writing, and Webster's spelling-book. There were long, continuous writing-tables down the sides of the room, with backless benches, so arranged that when the pupil was writing his face was turned to- ward the wall there was a door at each end, and a box stove stood in the middle of the room, surrounded by a rectangle of four backless benches. These benches were for the little fellows who did not write, and for others when the cold should drive them nearer the stove. The very worshipful master sat at the east end of the room, at one side of the door ; there was a blackboard a " new-fangled notion " in 1850 at the other side of the door. Some of the older scholars, who could afford private desks with lids to them, suitable for concealing 16 THE HOOSIER SCHOOL-BOY. smuggled apples and maple-sugar, had places at the other end of the room from the master. This arrangement was convenient for quiet study, for talking on the fingers by signs, for munching apples or gingerbread, and for pass- ing little notes between the boys and girls. When the school had settled a little, the master struck a sharp blow on his desk for silence, and looked fiercely around the room, eager to find a culprit on whom to wreak his ill-humor. Mr. Ball was one of those old- fashioned teachers who gave the impression that he would rather beat a boy than not, and would even like to eat one, if he could find a good excuse. His eye lit upon the new scholar. " Come here," he said, severely, and then he took his seat. The new boy walked timidly up to a place in front of the master's desk. He was not handsome, his face was thin, his eyebrows were prominent, his mouth was rather large and good-humored, and there was that shy twinkle about the corners of his eyes which always marks a fun- loving spirit. But his was a serious, fine-grained face, with marks of suffering in it, and he had the air of having been once a strong fellow ; of late, evidently, shaken to pieces by the ague. " Where do you live ? " demanded Mr. Ball. " On Ferry Street." " What do they call you ? " This was said with a THE NEW SCHOLAR. contemptuous, rasping inflection that irritated the new scholar. His eyes twinkled, partly with annoyance and partly with mischief. " They call me Jack, for the most part," then catch- ing the titter that came from the girls' side of the room, and frightened by the rising hurricane on the master's face, he added quickly : " My name is John Dudley, sir." " Don't you try to show your smartness on me, young man. You are a new-comer, and I let you off this time. Answer me that way again, and you will remember it as long as you live." And the master glared at him like a savage bull about to toss somebody over a fence. The new boy turned pale, and dropped his head. " How old are you ? " " Thirteen." "Have you ever been to school?" "Three months." " Three months. Do you know how to read ? " " Yes, sir," with a smile. " Can you cipher ? " " Yes, sir." " In multiplication ?" " Yes, sir." " Long division ? " " Yes, sir ; I've been half through fractions." " You said you'd been to school but three months ! " " My father taught me." There was just a touch of pride in his voice as he said this a sense of something superior about his father. 1 8 THE HOOSIER SCHOOL-BOY. This bit of pride angered the master, who liked to be thought to have a monopoly of all the knowledge in the town. " Where have you been living? " " In the Indian Reserve, of late ; I was born in Cincinnati." " I didn't ask you where you were born. When I ask you a question, answer that and no more." "Yes, sir." There was a touch of something in the tone of this reply that amused the school, and that made the master look up quickly and suspiciously at Jack Dudley, but the expression on Jack's face was as inno- cent as that of a cat who has just lapped the cream off the milk. CHAPTER II. KING MILKMAID. PEWEE ROSE, whose proper name was Peter Rose, had also the nickname of King Pevvee. He was about fourteen years old, square built and active, of great strength for his size, and very proud of the fact that no boy in town cared to attack him. He was not bad- tempered, but he loved to be master, and there were a set of flatterers who followed him, like jackals about a lion. As often happens, Nature had built for King Pewee a very fine body, but had forgotten to give him any mind to speak of. In any kind of chaff or banter, at any sort of talk or play where a good head was worth more than a strong arm and a broad back, King Pewee was sure to have the worst of it. A very convenient partnership had therefore grown up between him and Will Riley. Riley had muscle enough, but Nature had made him mean- spirited. He had not exactly wit but a facility for using his tongue, which he found some difficulty in dis- playing, through fear of other boys' fists. By forming a friendship with Pewee Rose, the two managed to keep in fear the greater part of the school. Will's rough 2O THE HOOSIER SCHOOL-BOY. tongue, together with Pewee's rude fists, were enough to bully almost any boy. They let Harvey Collins alone, because he was older, and, keeping to himself, awed them by his dignity ; good-natured Bob Holliday, also, was big enough to take care of himself. But the rest were all as much afraid of Pewee as they were of the mas- ter, and as Riley managed Pewee, it behooved them to be afraid of the prime minister, Riley, as well as of King Pewee. From the first day that Jack Dudley entered the school, dressed in brown jeans, Will Riley marked him for a victim. The air of refinement about his face showed him to be a suitable person for teasing. Riley called him " milksop," and " sap-head ; " words which seemed to the dull intellect of King Pewee ex- ceedingly witty. And as Pewee was Riley's defender, he felt as proud of these rude nicknames as he would had he invented them and taken out a patent. But Riley's greatest stroke of wit came one morning when he caught Jack Dudley milking the cow. In the village of Greenbank, milking a cow was regarded as a woman's work ; and foolish men and boys are like sav- ages, very much ashamed to be found doing a woman's work. Fools always think something else more disgrace- ful than idleness. So, having seen Jack milking, Riley came to school happy. He had an arrow to shoot that would give great delight to the small boys. KING MILKMAID. 21 "Good-morning, milkmaid!" he said to Jack Dud- ley, as he entered the school-house before school. " You milk the cow at your house, do you ? Where's your apron ? " " Oh-h ! Milkmaid ! milkmaid ! That's a good one," chimed in Pevvee Rose and all his set Jack changed color. " Well, what if I do milk my mother's cow ? I don't milk anybody's cow but ours, do I ? Do you think I'm ashamed of it ? I'd be ashamed not to. I can " but he stopped a minute and blushed " I can wash dishes, and make good pancakes, too. Now if you want to make fun, why, make fun. I don't care." But he did care, else why should his voice choke in that way ? " Oh, girl-boy ; a pretty girl-boy you are " but here Will Riley stopped and stammered. There right in front of him was the smiling face of Susan Lanham, with a look in it which made him suddenly remember some- thing. Susan had heard all the conversation, and now she came around in front of Will, while all the other girls clustered about her with a vague expectation of sport. " Come, Pewee, let's play ball," said Will. " Ah, you're running away, now ; you're afraid of a girl," said Susan, with a cutting little laugh, and a toss of her black curls over her shoulder. Will had already started for the ball-ground, but at this taunt he turned back, thrust his hands into his pock- 22 THE HOOSIER SCHOOL-BOY. ets, put on a swagger, and stammered : " No, I'm not afraid of a girl, either." " That's about all that he isn't afraid of," said Bob Holliday. "Oh! you're not afraid of a girl?" said Susan. " What did you run away for, when you saw me ? You know that Pewee won't fight a girl. You're afraid of anybody that Pewee can't whip." " You've got an awful tongue, Susan. We'll call you Sassy Susan," said Will, laughing at his own joke. " Oh, it isn't my tongue, you're afraid of now. You know I can tell on you. I saw you drive your cow into the stable last week. You were ashamed to milk out- side, but you looked all around " " I didn't do it. How could you see ? It was dark," and Will giggled foolishly, seeing all at once that he had betrayed himself. " It was nearly dark, but I happened to be where I could see. And as I was coming back, a few minutes after, I saw you come out with a pail of milk, and look around you like a sneak-thief. You saw me and hurried away. You are such a coward that you are ashamed to do a little honest work. Milkmaid ! Girlboy ! Cow- ard ! And Pewee Rose lets you lead him around by the nose !" " You'd better be careful what you say, Susan," said Pevyee, threateningly. KING MILKMAID. 23 "You won't touch me. You go about bullying little boys, and calling yourself King Pewee, but you can't do a sum in long division, nor in short subtraction, for that matter, and you let fellows like Riley make a fool of you. Your father's poor, and your mother can't keep a girl, and you ought to be ashamed to let her milk the cow. Who milked your cow this morning, Pewee ? " " I don't know," said the king, looking like the king's fool. "You did it," said Susan. "Don't deny it. Then you come here and call a strange boy a milkmaid ! " "Well, I didn't milk in the street, anyway, and he did." At this, all laughed aloud, and Susan's victory was complete. She only said, with a pretty toss of her head, as she turned away : " King Milkmaid ! Pewee found the nickname likely to stick. He was obliged to declare on the playground the next day, that he would " thrash " any boy that said anything about milkmaids. After that, he heard no more of it. But one morning he found " King Milkmaid " written on the door of his father's cow-stable. Some boy who dared not attack Pewee, had vented his irritation by writing the hateful words on the stable, and on the fence-corners near the school-house, and even on the blackboard. Pewee could not fight with Susan Lanham, but he made up his mind to punish the new scholar when he should have a chance. He must give somebody a beating. CHAPTER III. ANSWERING BACK. IT is hard for one boy to make a fight. Even your bully does not like to " pitch on " an inoffensive school- mate. You remember ^Esop's fable of the wolf and the lamb, and what pains the wolf took to pick a quarrel with the lamb. It was a little hard for Pewee to fight with a boy who walked quietly to and from the school, without giving anybody cause for offence. But the chief reason why Pewee did not attack him with his fists was that both he and Riley had found out that Jack Dudley could help them over a hard place in their lessons better than anybody else. And notwith- standing their continual persecution of Jack, they were mean enough to ask his assistance, and he, hoping to bring about peace by good-nature, helped them to get out their geography and arithmetic almost every day. Unable to appreciate this, they were both convinced that Jack only did it because he was afraid of them, and as they found it rare sport to abuse him, they kept it up. By their influence Jack was shut out of the plays. A greenhorn would spoil the game, they said. What did a ANSWERING BACK. 25 boy that had lived on Wildcat Creek, in the Indian Reserve, know about playing bull-pen, or prisoner's base, or shinny? If he was brought in, they would go out. But the girls, and the small boys, and good-hearted Bob Holliday liked Jack's company very much. Yet, Jack was a boy, and he often longed to play games with the others. He felt very sure that he could dodge and run in " bull-pen " as well as any of them. He was very tired of Riley's continual ridicule, which grew worse as Riley saw in him a rival in influence with the smaller boys. " Catch Will alone sometimes," said Bob Holliday, " when Pewee isn't with him, and then thrash him. He'll back right down if you bristle up to him. If Pewee makes a fuss about it, I'll look after Pewee. I'm bigger than he is, and he won't fight with me. What do you say ? " " I sha'n't fight unless I have to." " Afraid ? " asked Bob, laughing. " It isn't that. I don't think I'm much afraid, al- though I don't like to be pounded or to pound anybody. I think I'd rather be whipped than to be made fun of, though. But my father used to say that people who fight generally do so because they are afraid of some- body else, more than they are of the one they fight with." 2 6 THE HOOSIER SCHOOL-BOY. "I believe that's a fact," said Bob. "But Riley aches for a good thrashing." " I know that, and I feel like giving him one, or tak- ing one myself, and I think I shall fight him before I've done. But Father used to say that fists could never set- tle between right and wrong. They only show which is the stronger, and it is generally the mean one that gets the best of it." "That's as sure as shootin'," said Bob. "Pewee could use you up. Pewee thinks he's the king, but laws! he's only Riley's bull-dog. Riley is afraid of him, but he manages to keep the dog on his side all the time." " My father used to say," said Jack, " that brutes could fight with force, but men ought to use their wits." " You seem to think a good deal of what your father says, like it was your Bible, you know." " My father's dead," replied Jack. " Oh, that's why. Boys don't always pay attention to what their father says when he's alive." " Oh, but then my father was " "Here Jack checked himself, for fear of seeming to boast. " You see," he went on, " my father knew a great deal. He was so busy with his books that he lost 'most all his money, and then we moved to the Indian Reserve, and there he took the fever and died ; and then we came down here, where we owned a house, so that I could go to school." ANSWERING BACK. 27 " Why don't you give Will Riley as good as he sends ? " said Bob, wishing to get away from melancholy subjects. " You have got as good a tongue as his." " I haven't his stock of bad words though." " You've got a power of fun in you, though, you keep everybody laughing when you want to, and if you'd only turn the pumps on him once, he'd howl like a yel- low dog that's had a quart o' hot suds poured over him out of a neighbor's window. Use your wits, like your father said. You've lived in the woods till you're as shy as a flying-squirrel. All you've got to do is to talk up and take it rough and tumble, like the rest of the world. Riley can't bear to be laughed at, and you can make him ridiculous as easy as not." The next day, at the noon recess, about the time that Jack had finished helping Bob Holliday to find some places on the map, there came up a little shower, and the boys took refuge in the school-house. They must have some amusement, so Riley began his old abuse. " Well, greenhorn from the Wildcat, where's the black sheep you stole that suit of clothes from ? " " I hear him bleat now," said Jack, " about the blackest sheep I have ever seen." " You've heard the truth for once, Riley," said Bob Holliday. Riley, who was as vain as a peacock, was very much mortified by the shout of applause with which this little ' 28 THE HOOSIER SCHOOL-BOY. retort of Jack's was greeted. It was not a case in which he could call in King Pewee. The king, for his part, shut up his fists and looked silly, while Jack took courage to keep up the battle. But Riley tried again. " I say, Wildcat, you think you're smart, but you're a double-distilled idiot, and haven't got brains enough to be sensible of your misery." This kind of outburst on Riley's part always brought a laugh from the school. But before the laugh had died down, Jack Dudley took the word, saying, in a dry and quizzical way : " Don't you try to claim kin with me that way, Riley. No use ; I won't stand it. I don't belong to your family. I'm neither a fool nor a coward." " Hurrah ! " shouted Bob Holliday, bringing down first one and then the other of his big feet on the floor. " It's your put-in now, Riley." " Don't be backward in coming forward, Will, as the Irish priest said to his people," came from grave Harvey Collins, who here looked up from his book, thoroughly enjoying the bully's discomfiture. "That's awfully good," said Joanna Merwin, clasping her hands and giggling with delight. King Pewee doubled up his fists and looked at Riley to see if he ought to try his sort. of wit on Jack. If a frog, being pelted to death by cruel boys, should turn ANSWERING BACK. 2Q and pelt them again, they could not be more surprised than were Riley and King Pewee at Jack's repartees. " You'd better be careful what you say to Will Riley," said Pewee. " I stand by him." But Jack's blood was up now, and he was not to be scared. " All the more shame to him," said Jack.