Boarding Round/Chapter 21
The newly fallen snow covered the ground and the temperature in the schoolroom was much too low for the comfort of the scholars. The little ones were, as usual, crowded together around the stove. As they sat thus upon their low benches, one small boy was seen to be crying. The master getting down close beside him, said tenderly, "What is the matter, my little boy?"
"My head aches—I feel sick."
The child's face was flushed and his hands were hot.
"Well, Harry, I wish you to go home now."
Flora Royce was then directed to take her little brother home without delay. After an hour she came back and reported that Harry was no better, and the doctor had been called. The master felt no little anxiety as he received such a report. He was apprehensive that the case might prove to be serious. After school, instead of going directly to his boarding place, he went a mile out of his way, in the snow,—then getting to be deep,—to call at Mr. Royce's. He found Dr. Burner there, and his worst fears were realized. The child had scarlet fever.
That night James Sears thought very seriously of what might be before him, and his school. He had had the fever himself, and he did not fear it; but must it go through his school? Were his dear scholars to be stricken with such a fell disease? His horizon was bright in the morning; it was now covered with dark and threatening clouds. But he was not cast down; the situation roused his best energies to do what he could.
The next day another little boy was not at school, and, on inquiry, it was learned that he, too, was sick. This was none other than little Johnnie Paine. One or two more of the children were taken ill in the schoolroom. Others, outside the school, were reported as on the sick list. It was now painfully evident that the dreaded fever was becoming epidemic. Another day, and the number at school had been reduced still more. But in those days, there was no closing of schools, or quarantining at home, because an infectious disease had broken out. Flora Royce remained at home, but only because her mother needed her; her younger sister came as usual. Also Mary and Hattie Paine. They said that their brother did not seem to be very sick, but he had the fever. The next day two more of the scholars showed symptoms of the disease, and they were sent home. Before many days had passed, not only an additional number of the scholars, but other, and older, persons in the district were stricken. Among the sick was the boy at Mr. Bunnell's. Who should take care of him? Many of the families of the district could not render assistance to others; they themselves were in need of help. The master saw the situation, and after hastening from place to place, to inquire after the sick, he would go to Mr. Bunnell's and care for the poor sick boy through the night. But he found it impossible to pass more nights with so little sleep, and so he applied to the selectmen of the town for assistance. They furnished a nurse for suffering Jack.
The master's anxiety increased. Many were dangerously ill, adults as well as children. One young man had died. Fear rested like a pall upon the families of the district. For the most part, each family must take care of its sick as best it could. There were no trained nurses. There was only here and there a person, who was in the habit of "going out" in cases of sickness.
Among the more alarmingly sick children was little Johnnie. Mr. Sears had not forgotten him from the time when, before he could enter the schoolhouse, he laid his hand on the little fellow's cap. He would now hasten to the sick child's bedside whenever he could snatch a moment for that purpose. Dr. Burner was unwearied in his attention. But the case assumed still greater gravity, as the days and hours passed. When it was seen that in all probability the dear child must die, the master was one with the family in his grief. The little sufferer's throat finally became so bad that he could neither swallow nor speak; but he would look up, and try to smile when his teacher came to see him. Next to the love of father and mother, his coming gave comfort to the dying child. At last breathing became so difficult that the aching head must be raised up to prevent suffocation.
But this was for only a short time. It was apparent that the end had come. While the family stood at the bedside, helpless in their grief, the master bent down and put one hand under the pillow, thus bracing it up on his elbow, while with the other, he caressed the little forehead, in which there was no longer conscious pain. The eyes closed, the breast heaved gently, as if in farewell to its parting tenant, and then—rest! Who shall tell what a life is to be, which has such a beginning?
Little Johnnie was one of the scholars who had learned to sing,
During these days, and while the dark cloud of anxious fear rested on many homes, Mr. Sears remained at Capt. Hale's. He devoted every spare moment to inquiry for his scholars, lending a hand wherever possible, not forgetting poor Jack, till he seemed to be past the danger point. There were one or two families that he had reserved for his last boarding places; but as the fever had now invaded these homes, he greatly appreciated Captain and Mrs. Hale's insistence that he should remain with them.
Two of the families in which the sickness assumed a most serious character were those of Mr. Porter and Mr. Huggins. Mrs. Porter and her children, notwithstanding the seriousness of the situation, felt that their burden was light compared with some experiences that they had known. Now there was with them the kind, protecting father of his family. This seemed so great a blessing, in their anxiety and fear, that they almost felt as if they could bear anything. For some days the life of one of their little ones seemed to be trembling in the balance, yet somehow their trust in God never before seemed so natural or so sweet. The master called often, but it was apparently only just what he did at many other homes. The effect upon Mr. Porter was to strengthen his new purpose. He wondered how he ever could have lived such a life. He had come to himself. In his daily prayer, he never failed to say, "Father, I am not worthy to be called thy son."
Mr. Huggins had but one child and that was the rough, uncouth boy, who had been accustomed to do almost anything else than attend to his studies, while in school. But now, with Mr. Sears, he had learned to be a fairly studious and good boy. The trend of opinion and feeling, in the school, had borne him along on its current. But, like other boys, he was his father's own. He was his all. He was lying at death's door. The father was crushed. He thought of his life—his failures, and now his possible terrible disappointment and affliction. In his own soul he made a vow, that, if God would spare the life of his only child, he would lead another life,—he would sell no more rum to make men drunk. In dealing with his own soul, at this awful crisis, he stated plain facts, and used unambiguous English. He didn't try to hoodwink himself. In the mercy of God, his boy lived, and he himself became a man. He had turned the spigot of the rum barrel for the last time. The old soakers who still came for liquor, wondered what had happened, and they went home strangely mad. But even they were obliged to get themselves into a more reasonably sober condition for once. Many families began to see some happier days. The silver lining of the dark cloud began to appear. The master, with all his sympathetic sorrow, was made very happy.
During these days of sickness, while he was staying at Capt. Hale's, some matters of great interest to him were being considered by these good friends. The Captain had become somewhat advanced in years, and for some time he had thought of surrendering his agencies to younger hands. He and his good wife had also considered the desirability of giving to Helen Porter an education of a higher order than she could have at home. They had accumulated a large property, for those days, and they could think of no better use for a little of it than giving an education to such a fine girl as Helen. They had been deterred from making such a proposition, because it did not seem well that she should leave her mother. Now that obstacle had been removed. And the kind-hearted Captain was entertaining the thought that Mr. Sears might, after a little time, and necessary preparation, step into the control of his business. These contemplated propositions were revealed to the young schoolmaster, opening to his vision flattering prospects. What had been suggested to him by Dr. Colon might, standing alone, have been more attractive still; but it did not stand alone, and it would require too many years, he thought, for one so old as himself.