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→A Year in Berlin
The pupils were coming noisily in, I wondered if they would ever cease coming! I registered the names of seventy-five pupils in my book, and the average attendance during the year was sixty-five. Teachers had more liberty in those days. I had always opened school by reading from the Bible, and prayer; not reciting the Lord's prayer, but by praying for what I wanted for myself and my pupils. This was so unexpected that the noise died away into a delightful hush. Then I sang a little school song, in which many were able to join, and said a few cheery things that appealed to many.
There were the ABC classes in Reading, Writing, Spelling, Geography, Mental and Written Arithmetic. The forenoon passed in getting the classes seated as I wished, and their lesson apportioned. Meanwhile, acquaintance progressed rapidly. I had already spotted a few "black sheep" and knew that my real problem was not in teaching, but in governing.
All went fairly well for several weeks. Then one evening, I noticed Charlie Keys and his brother fussing around their desks until all the others had gone out. This was so unusual that I asked, "What is the matter, boys?" Shyly they approached my desk, and with tears in his eyes, Charlie said, "Teacher, don't try to whip Herbert Stedman". "I surely shall, unless he mends his ways pretty soon."
"Oh, but you can't do it; he fought the other teachers, and the big boys have all pledged themselves to help him. We heard them talking." I thanked them, calling them "dear boys", and told them not to worry, I wasn't afraid; but I did not feel exactly gay, when I was left alone. Herbert Steadman was sixteen, and a head taller than I. He chewed tobacco, smoked, swore, and sometimes got drunk. He always failed to get promoted out of that grad, and I wondered why he was allowed there at all. Except that my room was noisy, so many feet on the bare floor, I was almost satisfied. Lessons went well, and there was little whispering. Friday afternoons were devoted to singing, reading compositions and speaking pieces.
One day while a small girl was reading: <u>Bang<u>! </u></u> and something flew across the room, from the boys' side to that of the girls. Immediately you could have heard a pin drop. "Finish your reading" to the little girl, the silence continuing. When she had finished, I walked up the aisle, and picked up a <u>boot<u>! Not a shoe, but a boot with leg nearly to the knee. Returning to the platform, I held it up. "Who threw this boot?" "<u>I<u> did!" in an impudent tone, from Herbert. "<u><u><u><u><u><u><u>Come</u></u></u></u></u></u></u> <u> <u>here</u></u>, Herbert." He came to me with the air of a conqueror, as I stood with the raw-hide in my right hand.
"Take off your coat." "I won't do it for <u>you</u>", he replied contemptuously. I seized him by the collar, and brought the whip around his shoulders, with all my might. Enraged, with one hand he tore my sleeve nearly out at the shoulder; With the other he grabbed my watch guard, intending to throw my watch as he had thrown his boot. Perhaps he was counting on his allies, but <u>not<u> <u>one<u> <u>stirred<u>.
Instantly, about me, were three of my oldest girls; one grasped my watch, while I twisted Herbert's wrist until he let go of the ribbon. Another slipped the ribbon quickly over my head and carried the watch to a place of safety. Meanwhile, the third had pinned my sleeve in place. Then I whipped the boy over the shoulders, around the legs, anywhere I could hit him, while he danced. Suddenly he became quiet, he had had enough. "Now, Herbert, take off your coat." He took it off as quickly as he could. "Now, put it on and go to your seat." Not for anything would I have given him one more stroke. I looked over the room at faces white with fear, and the boys were scared worse than the girls. The battle had been one, and I was mistress beyond dispute, the rest of the year.
After the scholars had gone, Mr. Fletcher came in, his recitation room opened into mine. "You interrupted our recitation, this afternoon." "I am sorry, Mr. Fletcher." "Well, I am not. We all sat spellbound, listening to the swish of that little raw-hide. I am glad you didn't send for me. Allow me to congratulate you, Miss Roberts." This was comforting and reassuring. At the close of the year, each class gave me an "ambrotype" of its members. Somewhere, in the movings of the last forty years, these have been lost. I sincerely wish I had them now.
Almost the whole school was at the station to say goodbye. When the train moved off, I hid my face against the window, and had a little cry. Then a voice behind me said, "You are leaving many friends behind you. I should cry myself under like circumstances." I turned to look into the kind eyes of a white-haired old gentleman.
==Meanwhile and Afterwards==