The Book Of The Bush by George Dunderdale (top fiction books of all time .TXT) 📖

FRIEND WEST RECEIVED A VISIT FROM MR. PENNINGTON, A

MERCHANT OF PHILADELPHIA, WHO WAS LIKEWISE A MEMBER OF THE SOCIETY OF

FRIENDS. THE VISITOR, ON ENTERING THE PARLOR, WAS SURPRISED TO SEE IT

ORNAMENTED WITH DRAWINGS OF INDIAN CHIEFS

 

In That Way Mr. Rogers Washed His Hands Of Me.  I Said I Was Sorry I

Did Not Please The Ladies,  But I Liked To Hear A Man Who Spoke His

Mind Freely.

 

Soon Afterwards The Germans Brought Me Word That The Yankees Were

Calling A Meeting About Me.  I Was Aware By This Time That When A

Special Gathering Of Citizens Takes Place To Discuss The Demerits Of

Any Individual,  It Is Advisable For That Individual To Be Absent If

Possible; But Curiosity Was Strong Within Me; Hitherto I Had Never

Been Honoured With Any Public Notice Whatever,  And I Attended The

Meeting Uninvited.

 

The Yankees Are Excellent Orators; They Are Born Without Bashfulness;

They Are Taught To Speak Pieces In School From Their Childhood; They

Pronounce Each Word Distinctly; They Use Correctly The Rising

Inflection And The Falling Inflection.   Moreover,  They Are Always In

Deadly Earnest; There Is Another Miserable World Awaiting Their

Arrival.  Their Humorists Are The Most Unhappy Of Men.  You May Smile

When You Read Their Jokes,  But When You See The Jokers You Are More

Inclined To Weep.  With Pain And Sorrow They Grind,  Like Samson,  At

The Jokers' Mill All The Days Of Their Lives.

 

The Meeting Was Held In The New Two-Storey School-House.

 

Deacon Beaumont Took The Chair--My Chair--And Mr Curtis Was

Appointed Secretary.  I Began To Hate Deacon Beaumont,  As Also Mr.

Curtis,  Who Was The Only Other Teacher Present; It Was Evident They

Were Going To Put Him In My Place.

 

Each Speaker On Rising Put His Left Hand In The Side Pocket Of His

Story 3 (Discovery Of The River Hopkins.) Pg 46

Pants.  I Was Not Mentioned By Name,  But Nevertheless I Was Given

Clearly To Understand That I Had Been Reared In A Land Whose People

Are Under The Dominion Of A Tyrannical Monarch And A Bloated

Aristocracy; That Therefore I Had Never Breathed The Pure Air Of

Freedom,  And Was Unfitted To Teach The Children Of The Great Republic.

 

Mr. Tucker,  An Influential Citizen,  Moved Finally That The School

Managers Be Instructed To Engage A Mr. Sellars,  Of Dresden,  As

Teacher At The West Joliet School.  He Said Mr. Sellars Was A Young

Man From New England Who Had Been Teaching For A Term At Dresden,  And

Had Given Great Satisfaction.  He Had The Best Testimony To The

Character And Ability Of The Young Man From His Own Daughter,  Miss

Priscilla Tucker,  Who Had Been School Marm In The Same School,  And

Was Now Home On A Visit.  She Could Give,  From Her Own Personal

Knowledge,  Any Information The Managers Might Require.

 

Mr. Tucker's Motion Was Seconded.  There Was No Amendment Proposed,

And All In Favour Of The Motion Were Requested By Deacon Beaumont To

Stand Up.  The Yankees All Rose To Their Feet,  The Others Sat Still,

All But Old Gorges,  A Prussian,  Who,  With His Two Sons,  Had Come To

Vote For Me.  But The Old Man Did Not Understand English.  His Son

John Pulled Him Down,  But Deacon Beaumont Had Counted His Vote,  And

The Motion Was Carried By A Majority Of One.  So I Was,  In Fact,  Put

Out Of The School By My Best Friend,  Old Gorges.

 

I Went Away In A Dudgeon And Marked Off A Cellar On My Real Estate,

30 Feet By 18 Feet,  On The Top Of The Bluff,  Near The Edge Of The

Western Prairie.  The Ground Was A Mixture Of Stiff Clay And

Limestone Rock,  And I Dug At It All Through The Month Of September.

Curious People Came Along And Made Various Remarks; Some Said

Nothing,  But Went Away Whistling.  One Day Mr. Jackson And Paul

Duffendorff Were Passing By,  And I Wanted Them To Pass,  But They

Stopped Like The Rest.  Mr. Jackson Was Reckoned One Of The Smartest

Men In Will County.  He Had A Large Farm,  Well Stocked,  But He Was

Never Known To Do Any Work Except With His Brains.  He Was One Of

Those Men Who Increased The Income Of The State Of Illinois By

Ability.  Duffendorf Was A Huge Dutchman,  Nearly Seven Feet In

Height.  He Was A Great Friend Of Mine,  Great Every Way,  But Very

Stupid; He Had No Sense Of Refinement.  He Said:

 

"Ve Gates,  Schoolmeister?  Py Golly!  Here,  Mr. Shackson,  Is Our

Schoolmeister A Vurkin Mit Spade And Bick.  How Vas You Like Dat

Kind Of Vurk,  Mr. Shackson?"

 

"Never Could Be Such A Darned Fool; Sooner Steal," Answered Jackson.

 

Duffendorf Laughed Until He Nearly Fell Into The Cellar.  Now This

Talk Was Very Offensive.  I Knew Mr. Jackson Was Defendant In A Case

Then Pending.  He Had Been Charged With Conspiring To Defraud; With

Having Stolen Three Horses; With Illegally Detaining Seventy-Five

Dollars; And On Other Counts Which I Cannot Remember Just Now.  The

Thing Was Originally Very Simple,  Even Duffendorff Could Understand

It.

 

Story 3 (Discovery Of The River Hopkins.) Pg 47

Mr. Jackson Was In Want Of Some Ready Money,  So He Directed His Hired

Man To Steal Three Of His Horses In The Dead Of Night,  Take Them To

Chicago,  Sell Them To The Highest Bidder,  Find Out Where The Highest

Bidder Lived,  And Then Return With The Cash To Joliet.  The Hired Man

Did His Part Of The Business Faithfully,  Returned And Reported To His

Employer.  Then Mr. Jackson Set Out In Search Of His Stolen Horses,

Found Them,  And Brought Them Home.  The Man Expected To Receive Half

The Profits Of The Enterprise.  The Boss Demurred,  And Only Offered

One-Third,  And Said If That Was Not Satisfactory He Would Bring A

Charge Of Horse-Stealing.  The Case Went Into Court,  And Under The

Treatment Of Learned Counsel Grew Very Complicated.  It Was

Remarkable As Being The Only One On Record In Will County In Which A

Man Had Made Money By Stealing His Own Horses.  It Is,  I Fancy,  Still

'Sub Judice'.

 

Both The Old School And The New School Remained Closed Even After The

Cholera Ceased To Thin Out The Citizens,  But I Felt No Further

Interest In The Education Of Youth.  When Winter Came I Tramped Three

Miles Into The Forest,  And Began To Fell Trees And Split Rails In

Order To Fence In My Suburban Estate.  For Some Time I Carried A

Rifle,  And Besides Various Small Game I Shot Two Deer,  But Neither Of

Them Would Wait For Me To Come Up With Them Even After I Had Shot

Them; They Took My Two Bullets Away With Them,  And Left Me Only A Few

Drops Of Blood On The Snow; Then I Left The Rifle At Home.  For About

Four Months The Ground Was Covered With Snow,  And The Cold Was

Intense,  But I Continued Splitting Until The Snakes Came Out To Bask

In The Sun And Warm Themselves.  I Saw Near A Dead Log Eight Coiled

Together,  And I Killed Them All.  The Juice Of The Sugar Maples Began

To Run.  I Cut Notches In The Bark In The Shape Of A Broad Arrow,

Bored A Hole At The Point,  Inserted A Short Spout Of Bark,  And On

Sunny Mornings The Juice Flowed In A Regular Stream,  Clear And

Sparkling; On Cloudy Days It Only Dropped.

 

One Evening As I Was Plodding My Weary Way Homeward,  I Looked Up And

Saw In The Distance A Man Inspecting My Cellar.  I Said,  "Here's

Another Disgusting Fool Who Ain't Seen It Before."  It Certainly Was

A Peculiar Cellar,  But Not Worth Looking At So Much.  I Hated The

Sight Of It.  It Had No Building Over It,  Never Was Roofed In,  And

Was Sometimes Full Of Snow.

 

The Other Fool Proved To Be Mr. Curtis,  The Teacher Who Had Written

The Resolution Of The Meeting Which Voted Me Out Of The School.  He

Held Out His Hand,  And I Took It,  But Reluctantly,  And Under Secret

Protest.  I Thought To Myself,  "This Mine Enemy Has An Axe To Grind,

Or He Would Not Be Here.  I'll Be On My Guard."

 

"I Have Been Waiting For You Some Time," Said Mr. Curtis.  "I Was

Told You Were Splitting Rails In The Forest,  And Would Be Home About

Sundown.  I Wanted To See You About Opening School Again.  Mr. Rogers

Won't Have Anything To Say To It,  But The Other Two Managers,  Mr.

Strong And Mr. Demmond,  Want To Engage You And Me,  One To Teach In

The Upper Storey Of The School,  The Other Down Below,  And I Came Up

To Ask You To See Them About It."

 

Story 3 (Discovery Of The River Hopkins.) Pg 48

"How Does It Happen That Mr. Sellars Has Not Come Over From Dresden?"

I Said.

 

"Joliet Is About The Last Place On This Earth That Mr. Sellars Will

Come To.  Didn't You Hear About Him And Priscilla?"  Asked Mr. Curtis.

 

"No,  I Heard Nothing Since That Meeting; Only Saw The School Doors

Were Closed Every Time I Passed That Way."

 

"Well,  I Am Surprised.  I Thought Everybody Knew By This Time,  Though

We Did Not Like To Say Much About It."

 

I Began To Feel Interested.  Mr. Curtis Had Something Pleasant To

Tell Me About The Misfortunes Of My Enemies,  So I Listened

Attentively.

 

It Was A Tale Of Western Love,  And Its Course Was No Smoother In

Illinois Than In Any Less Enlightened Country Of Old Europe.  Miss

Priscilla Reckoned She Could Hoe Her Own Row.  She And Mr. Sellars

Conducted The Common School At Dresden With Great Success And

Harmony.  All Went Merry As A Marriage Bell,  And The Marriage Was To

Come Off By-And-By--So Hoped Miss Priscilla.  During The Recess She

Took The Teacher's Arm,  And They Walked To And Fro Lovingly.  All

Dresden Said It Was To Be A Match,  But At The End Of The Term Miss

Priscilla Returned To Joliet--The Match Was Not Yet Made.

 

It Was At This Time That The Dissatisfaction With The New British

Teacher Became Extreme; Miss Priscilla Fanned The Flame Of

Discontent.  She Did Not "Let Concealment Like A Worm I' Th' Bud Feed

On Her Damask Cheek," But Boldly Proposed That Mr. Sellars--A

True-Born Native Of New England,  A Good Young Man,  Always Seen At

Meetings On The Sabbath--Should Be Requested To Take Charge Of The

West Joliet School.  So The Meeting Was Held:  I Was Voted Out,  Mr.

Sellars Was Voted In,  And The Daughters Of The Puritans Triumphed.

 

Miss Priscilla Wrote To Dresden,  Announcing To Her Beloved The

Success