Boarding Round/Chapter 10

The boys of the school had planned a sleighride. It was for themselves and their teacher. Exception would be made if any one wished to invite a young lady from outside, but all the girls of the school were to be included; that is, all who were old enough to "receive attention." And their teacher must go with them. At first he begged to be excused. But the boys presented their most urgent requests. "You must go," they said. We shan't have half a good time if you don't go." They were so sincere and earnest that consent could not be withheld. And this loyal good will was exceedingly gratifying to Mr. Sears. He was willing to do almost anything to please such scholars.

But when the matter was settled that he should go, two questions presented themselves. He could not very well go alone. He must have a young lady to share his seat in the sleigh, and he must have a sleigh with a horse to draw it. Where would he find his team? ​and where would he find his girl? He first set himself to finding a team. If he could do that, he felt reasonably certain that some lone female would take pity on him. There was the correspondent of The Looking-glass; he believed that, with a little urging, she might be induced to go with him. She had been very kind in noticing his coming to town, and had taken pains to write items for the paper for his benefit. He believed she would be ready to sacrifice still more of her personal interests to help him in such an emergency. But first of all, he must have his horse. He made inquiries. All available horses seemed to be engaged. The boys had already secured them. There was a livery stable about three miles away. But he could not go so far for a horse, and, to tell the truth, he had hardly money enough in his pocket to pay for it. One horse had been offered him, without money and without price. But he had a distinct recollection of riding after that horse once, and although his owner affirmed that it was swift as "greased lightning," he still felt, with the immortal patriot, that he had but one lamp by which his feet must be guided, and that was the lamp of experience. So he could not possibly accept Uncle Steve's offer, as kind as it might be. But which way should he turn? There were but two days remaining for making preparations. He could think of nothing but to go and confide his trouble to his faith​ful friend, the Captain. He had locked the schoolhouse door, and was starting down the road when a boy met him, bringing a letter. He quickly tore it open and found these words:

"Mr. Sears,

"Dear Sir: I have learned that there is soon to be a sleighride. If this is so, I am quite sure that every available horse has been engaged. Now I have a fine horse I am not in the habit of letting, but if it will be an accommodation to you, I will have it ready for you with great pleasure. You will not thereby be in any way indebted to me. I shall regard your taking the horse as a favor done to myself.

"Very sincerely yours,

"Mrs. Irad Aikin."

Why, how fortunate! Was ever anything more so? A good team right at his hand! And gratuitous! How he had been provided for! And not the horse only—there was a young lady right in the house. If no one had already invited her. He did not believe any one had. If he could only have the horse, and could choose his girl; but no; he was situated like good old Boaz, in the Bible story. If he "redeem the inheritance," he must take the Moabitess. And all other ways were shut up to him. With horse, or no horse, he could not take the only girl in the world that he wanted ​to take. And Helen Porter understood that. He must not by the slightest word or sign indicate his wish to take her. Without showing "partiality" to any of his big girls, he had still found opportunity to come to a perfect understanding with Helen. She was ready to go with any respectable "fellow," and he must be willing to accompany any suitable lady that might come to hand. But to invite Miss Sophrena Aikin! He might as well conform to the decree of fate, and let the public say what they would. He would end the contest now being had with his natural impulses. He could endure it. He would go straight to Mrs. Aikin's, and so he did go. He stood before her door. The door was opened before he had time to put his hand to the knocker. Mrs. Aikin threw the door wide open.

"Why, Mr. Sears, how happy I am to see you! Did the boy that I sent with a note find you?"

"Yes, Mrs. Aikin, I was leaving the schoolhouse. He hit me just in time. Thank you very much. Your thoughts of me have been very kind. It is a great favor to me, for I didn't know of a horse that I could get. How did you know so well what I must have? Your generosity has got me out of a bad dilemma."

"Walk right in, Mr. Sears."

The teacher was soon seated in the easy chair. After some further unsatisfactory con​versation, because waiting to say something else, and not knowing just how to begin,—the conscious recipient of blessing, with still greater in the possible future, at last mustered courage to ask:

"Mrs. Aikin, may I make bold to inquire whether Miss Sophrena has any engagement for the ride?"

The fond mother replied that she was not quite certain, but she didn't think she had. She would ask her.

A moment more, and the girl appeared. The schoolmaster arose, and with as polite a bow as his inexperience would permit of his making, began to say, "The school is to have a sleighride to-morrow evening, and I have called to know if I may have—"

"Oh, yes, I'm glad to see you. Mamma has been hoping for some days that you would call to ask me, but you didn't come; so she wrote to you. I'm real glad you've come. Mamma's tickled half to pieces. She thinks everything of you. She says she wished you boarded here all the time. She'll do everything she can to have you feel at home here. At what time do we start to-morrow evening?"

"At six precisely. You know we'll have supper after we get there. We shall be about an hour on the way probably."

"Yes, I think the supper is the best part of it all; don't you?"

​"Oh, yes, I do think it often is. I will get here a few minutes before six, that we may start promptly at that time. We are all to gather down here at the church, and so go on together."

"Maybe I'll come up to the schoolhouse, and so come down with you. Wouldn't you like to have me?"

"Well, I hardly think so this time. I shall have to hurry up. I must run right down to Captain Hale's, where my trunk is, before starting, and come here from there."

The master bowed himself out, with a good evening, before there was opportunity for more conversation. He had some thoughts on his way to his boarding place.

At a quarter to six the next day evening, Mr. Sears was seated in Mrs. Aikin's elegant parlor. Mrs. Aikin and her daughter were both present. The latter kept quiet. She had been taught to do so when her mother was present. She answered questions when she was spoken to. She had been taught by her mother that that was proper. When left alone, that is, without maternal restraint, she would speak as her inner impulses might prompt her. Mrs. Aikin's hostler brought her horse to the door. It was a fine steed, with silver mounted harness, and a long string of bells. The sleigh was filled with warm buffalo robes. As the happy pair were about leaving the parlor, Mrs. Aikin brought a large ​fur overcoat and slipped it on over the schoolmaster's outer garment. That would keep him warm. Sophrena was covered with furs, which hid, for the time, her diamond bracelet and rings. Then the kind-hearted widow put a five dollar bill into the hand of the man that her daughter had declared she esteemed so highly, saying as she did this, "When I try to do any one a favor, I always want to do the whole thing; you'll have some expense for the horse at the hotel."

Soon the bells on a dozen horses were jingling merrily. The air was sharply cold. But it was not so cold as to prevent a flow of conversation between interested, if not, in all cases, interesting, parties. Miss Sophrena remarked that she thought it was too bad that they should always have to go sleighriding in such cold weather. If they could only go in the summer, how nice it would be. Somehow folks never seemed to think of taking such rides when the weather is warm.

"But the trouble is," replied her respectful escort, "we rarely have snow enough for sleighing in very hot weather."

"Oh, no, we don't. But I wish we could have."

"Perhaps we may have it so sometime, but I'm afraid not very soon."

Then the conversation changed to facts in regard to the houses which they passed on the way. In one house Mr. So and So lived; in ​another, a second Mr. So and So lived; coming to another house, in that a third Mr. So and So lived. Of course it was exceedingly interesting and instructive to the master of a district school to hear the names of the men whose habitations were on the road to Sintown. If he could only make a note of them, he might possibly remember a few; but riding as they were in the cold, it was impracticable to do any such thing, and all these names must be forgotten. Then the moon—a very rare subject on such occasions—was brought under review, and many interesting thoughts concerning it were dissipated in the cold air. There were no means of preserving them.

At the hotel there was a lively and happy company. But somehow the master's scholars seemed a little shy of coming up and looking him in the face. They said nothing about his getting there. He could not think it manifested lack of interest. They were so desirous of his coming with them. He very sensibly concluded that it was from the spell which the fair lady, who stuck so closely to him, cast over them. And they were not in the habit of coming into such close contact with one so bright in resplendent jewels. Even Helen Porter, in her very plain attire, hardly dared to look the master squarely in the face. Then again at the table these scholars were not unfrequently casting furtive glances this way and that, when they ought ​to have had their eyes on their plates. Then Mr. Sears imagined—and it was doubtless only imagination, from excessive sensitiveness, on finding himself the center of so much interested attention—that some were listening when his lady would suggest that she would like some dish which was not on the table.

In their plays, when the couples broke up, and mixed promiscuously, the master mingled freely with all. Then others had the privilege of associating with the only fashionably attired and richly bejeweled lady in the company.

Mr. Sears found that he was benefitted by the instructions that Mrs. Aikin had given to her daughter, that she, for the most part, abstain from conversation when in a large company. So at meetings of the ladies of the sewing society, she would sit for a long time without speaking, unless some one first spoke to her.

The ride home differed in no essential particulars from that already described. It was a repetition, except that the horse was headed the other way.

Mrs. Aikin had sent word to the Scotts', where the master was then boarding, that he would not return that evening. She had a room all ready for him, with a fire in the fireplace, and the bed thoroughly warmed by the use of the warming pan. Also the teapot was standing on the stove, full of the fragrant ​beverage. As the happy pair drove up to the door, Mr. Sears had only to pass the reins to the hostler, and all care of the team was ended. This was being accommodated royally, and hearty thanks showed due appreciation of such pains-taking thoughtfulness.

A day or two afterwards, the weekly issue of The Looking-glass gratified the good people of the Corner district with some account of these happenings. In the usual list of items, however,—those sent by Miss Eunice Delano,—only the briefest mention was made, and no more was said of the schoolmaster than simply that he went. And Miss Delano's name—as it always appeared in connection with the fact that she had been somewhere, had visited with somebody, or had seen something wonderful—such reference to herself, this time appeared as far away from the notice of the sleighride as possible.

But an "occasional correspondent" had favored the paper with an elaborate description of the affair. This lady—for it must have been a lady; no member of the male sex could do such a thing—told just how the young people were paired off—"who went with who, and who didn't go with who"; exactly what kind of dresses the girls wore—of what material, with long or short sleeves, whether high or low in the neck, how trimmed, with lace or ribbon, or both, also the color of their stockings and shoes; only one or two ​wore white shoes. But the one whose appearance was most particularly made known to the humble readers of the paper, was the superbly gowned lady that it had been the good fortune of the young teacher of the school to take with him in his sleigh. Miss Aikin's gown was a lovely blue silk, and, interwoven in her glossy brown hair, was a string of large pearls. On her fingers flashed the multi-colored lights of finely cut diamonds. But the one that she wore about her neck, should be seen. It was given her at Christmas by a wealthy uncle in New York. Tall, of fine form, every inch a queen, sparkling with precious gems, as she leaned upon the arm of her proud escort, she was fitted to make an impression. The boys and the girls of the school might well begin to think that there is more in life than they had imagined.

After doing justice to the menu of the Hotel Cragin, the merry bells jingled on the home stretch. There had been sleighrides before, but this was the one to be remembered.

And now it may be added that the people of the Corner district are to be congratulated that they have secured such a fine teacher. Mr. Sears' influence extends to its remotest parts. And beyond the district even. He finds boarding round no unpleasant thing. He has invitations from families that have no longer children to send to school. And his attendance at ​church has had a visible effect upon the congregation.

Even the sewing society has revived, and has picked up its members wonderfully since his coming. He seems ready to attend and render any assistance in his power. The young people, and especially the young ladies of the Methodist church, are being stirred to new activity.