Read Online Caught in the Act by Joan Lowery Nixon - Free Book Online
Authors: Joan Lowery Nixon
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suspiciously toward you, surely you must be aware of it."
"All I know about Mr. Friedrich is that he*s a frugal, hardworking man," Reuben said. "And that's all I need to know. Whatever problems a man has are his own business and no one else's."
Mike ducked his head at the reprimand, but Reuben's attitude did nothing to lessen his fear of Mr. Friedrich.
Often Mike caught Gunter glaring at him through slitted eyes with such hatred that he stayed on guard, waiting for Gunter's next mean trick.
At the same time, Mike had to battle his own jealousy toward Gunter, who was sent to school in spite of his complaints that it was a waste of time, that the teacher didn't like him, and that Ezra, the youngest Blair boy, had knocked him down and bloodied his nose because he'd seen Gunter snitching a large slab of molasses cake from someone's dinner pail.
Gunter's lower lip curled down in a pout when he told the story. "I was just having fun. Ezra didn't give me a chance to explain."
*Those Blairs are a bad lot," Mr. Friedrich said. "Well, I hope you gave him as good as he gave you."
"I couldn't," Gunter muttered. "He's stronger, and the other boys were on his side."
"Oh, my poor Gunter," Mrs. Friedrich had said, sighing. "Maybe you should tell the teacher how those boys are bullying you."
At the time it was all Mike could do to keep from laughing aloud. The next morning, when he told Reuben the story as they worked to mend the fence in the high pasture, he did laugh, loudly and freely.
"Be careftd of that Gunter," Reuben said. "It will make your life easier if you don't cross him."
"I'll be careftd," Mike said. But at that moment nothing about Gunter,could really worry him. The air was
chill, but the sun was high and bright, and a sweet, sharp fragrance rose from the knee-deep golden grasses and clover. Bruna ran through the meadow, jumping and snapping at a bright butterfly.
Mike carefully helped to steady the support that Reuben had tightly wedged against the fence post while Reuben drove the post into place with heavy blows from a mallet. When they had finished, Mike stepped back and slowly turned to look out at the patches of forest and meadow, which lay before him in a gold and green patchwork.
"I wonder if this is anything like Ireland," he said. "Ma often said that Ireland was the most beautiful place on the earth, and Tm thinking that this place must be close to it."
Reuben wiped his sleeve across his forehead and snuled. "There's much in this world that's beautiftd, Mike. Fve heard there are mountains to the west that are higher than you can imagine, and rivers with water so clear you can see fish hiding on the bottom sands."
"Have you seen these things?" Mike asked.
"No, but they're there for the viewing."
"Will you go to those mountains and rivers someday?"
Reuben laughed. "Fll go back to my old and treacherous friend, the Missouri, which is sometimes so muddy that a few foolhardy souls have tried to walk on it."
Mike smiled. "Fd like to see the mountains. Fm going to travel farther west some day."
"Then do so," Reuben said. ''Wings have we — and as far as we can go we may find pleasure: wilderness and woody blank ocean and mere sky, support that mood which with the lofty sanctifies the low.''
"I understand the first part of that," Mike said. "Did your friend Shakespeare write it?"
"William Wordsworth did," Reuben told him. "He was also a poet of great renown."
"That's fine," Mike said. *They should have got along well, with both of them unable to put down words the way they come straight from the mouth."
"William Shakespeare lived many, many years ago, but William Wordsworth died just about the time that you were bom."
"It's sorry I am, but I had nothing to do with it," Mike said. He grinned with mischief, and Reuben chuckled. "I like the poetry. I surely do," Mike said. "And someday maybe Fll understand it all. Tell again the part about the wings. I want to think about it."
The work went fast, and
"All I know about Mr. Friedrich is that he*s a frugal, hardworking man," Reuben said. "And that's all I need to know. Whatever problems a man has are his own business and no one else's."
Mike ducked his head at the reprimand, but Reuben's attitude did nothing to lessen his fear of Mr. Friedrich.
Often Mike caught Gunter glaring at him through slitted eyes with such hatred that he stayed on guard, waiting for Gunter's next mean trick.
At the same time, Mike had to battle his own jealousy toward Gunter, who was sent to school in spite of his complaints that it was a waste of time, that the teacher didn't like him, and that Ezra, the youngest Blair boy, had knocked him down and bloodied his nose because he'd seen Gunter snitching a large slab of molasses cake from someone's dinner pail.
Gunter's lower lip curled down in a pout when he told the story. "I was just having fun. Ezra didn't give me a chance to explain."
*Those Blairs are a bad lot," Mr. Friedrich said. "Well, I hope you gave him as good as he gave you."
"I couldn't," Gunter muttered. "He's stronger, and the other boys were on his side."
"Oh, my poor Gunter," Mrs. Friedrich had said, sighing. "Maybe you should tell the teacher how those boys are bullying you."
At the time it was all Mike could do to keep from laughing aloud. The next morning, when he told Reuben the story as they worked to mend the fence in the high pasture, he did laugh, loudly and freely.
"Be careftd of that Gunter," Reuben said. "It will make your life easier if you don't cross him."
"I'll be careftd," Mike said. But at that moment nothing about Gunter,could really worry him. The air was
chill, but the sun was high and bright, and a sweet, sharp fragrance rose from the knee-deep golden grasses and clover. Bruna ran through the meadow, jumping and snapping at a bright butterfly.
Mike carefully helped to steady the support that Reuben had tightly wedged against the fence post while Reuben drove the post into place with heavy blows from a mallet. When they had finished, Mike stepped back and slowly turned to look out at the patches of forest and meadow, which lay before him in a gold and green patchwork.
"I wonder if this is anything like Ireland," he said. "Ma often said that Ireland was the most beautiful place on the earth, and Tm thinking that this place must be close to it."
Reuben wiped his sleeve across his forehead and snuled. "There's much in this world that's beautiftd, Mike. Fve heard there are mountains to the west that are higher than you can imagine, and rivers with water so clear you can see fish hiding on the bottom sands."
"Have you seen these things?" Mike asked.
"No, but they're there for the viewing."
"Will you go to those mountains and rivers someday?"
Reuben laughed. "Fll go back to my old and treacherous friend, the Missouri, which is sometimes so muddy that a few foolhardy souls have tried to walk on it."
Mike smiled. "Fd like to see the mountains. Fm going to travel farther west some day."
"Then do so," Reuben said. ''Wings have we — and as far as we can go we may find pleasure: wilderness and woody blank ocean and mere sky, support that mood which with the lofty sanctifies the low.''
"I understand the first part of that," Mike said. "Did your friend Shakespeare write it?"
"William Wordsworth did," Reuben told him. "He was also a poet of great renown."
"That's fine," Mike said. *They should have got along well, with both of them unable to put down words the way they come straight from the mouth."
"William Shakespeare lived many, many years ago, but William Wordsworth died just about the time that you were bom."
"It's sorry I am, but I had nothing to do with it," Mike said. He grinned with mischief, and Reuben chuckled. "I like the poetry. I surely do," Mike said. "And someday maybe Fll understand it all. Tell again the part about the wings. I want to think about it."
The work went fast, and
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