Herbert'sârose.
"Good," said Miss Sedgewick. "Then I shall be here bright and early on the morning of June the seventh to conduct examinations. I presume for you, too, Miss Bidson."
"Yes, ma'am."
"So, if you please, just give me each student's name and grade level."
Ida found a piece of paper, and while the class looked on in silence, she provided the information.
Miss Sedgewick took the paper, folded it up, and placed it in her purse. "I wish each and every one of you good luck," she said, and started for the door. Reaching it, she paused. "Two more things," she said. "I urge you to inform your parents and the school board about what you are doing. And, Miss Bidson, do get into dry clothing before you catch your death of cold."
The children waited until they heard the sound of a car driving away.
"I suppose," said Ida, "we'll just have to work harder."
"And there's one more thing," Herbert called out.
"What's that?"
"No more swimming!"
Â
When Ida and Felix got home that afternoon, Ida went right into the kitchen. Her mother was at the big plank table kneading their weekly bread.
"Ida!" she cried. "What happened to you?"
"We had some fun at school today," Ida said ruefully.
Mrs. Bidson gave her daughter a look. "Ida, are you teaching or playing games down there?"
"I'm
teaching,
Ma," Ida said hotly. Then she told her everything that had happened, including the unfortunate visit by Miss Sedgewick. "Now the whole school has to take exams," Ida said. "I've ruined everything."
"If you had," her mother said, "that woman would have said so."
"In the whole time I've been teaching," Ida said, "it was the only fooling I've done. Anyway, it was fun." She pouted. "The most fun I've had in a long time."
"Ida, a teacher will always be held up as an example to her students."
"That's not fair!" Ida burst out. "I'm a person, too. I should study electricity, like Tom. Or play with a printing press. No one thinks
he's
bad when he's fooling."
"Speaking of bad, I'm afraid I have more unfortunate news," said her mother. "I met Herbert Bixler's pa when your father and I were at the feed store today. He complained to me that Herbert is wasting his time going to school. Said he wants to go to the school board and complain that you're keeping the school open."
"He didn't!"
"Well, perhaps he was just talking big."
"Ma, you know what I think? I think Mr. Bixler doesn't want Herbert to come to school at all!"
"I'm just telling you what he said."
"Or maybe Mr. Bixler's mad at me because I went down to his place," Ida confessed.
"Did you? Why?"
"Ma, it's what teachers do. Herbert hadn't been in school. I'm supposed to find out why. You know what Mr. Bixler said? Said Herbert's schooling doesn't matter."
"Honey, Mr. Bixler's wife died when Herbert was still a baby. Mr. Bixler's had bad luck on his farm. Lost a whole lot of sheep because of disease. Folks say his debt is piling up. He's not a happy man. Unhappy folks do unhappy things."
"Do you think Mr. Jordan already knows what we're doing?"
"Ida, in this valleyâsooner or laterâeverybody knows everything about everybody. You could tell him yourself, you know."
"He'd only say no."
A frowning Ida sat down before the kitchen table.
"Is there something else?" her mother asked.
Ida said nothing.
"Is it Tom?"
Ida shook her head.
"Can't be any worse than what you've already told me, can it?" her mother coaxed.
"Ma ... I've been working so hard at teaching, I've been letting my own studying go. Way I'm going, I'll be the only one failing the exam."
"Well, Miss Bidson, however you decide to head off that problem, I suggest you start by getting into some clean clothes."
Thirteen
T HAT EVENING AFTER her chores and grading were done, Ida worked late into the night. She began with her reader, focusing on sections she had not read before. She studied grammar and tried to memorize passages, working in particular on "A Psalm of Life," a poem by Longfellow. In the
"Good," said Miss Sedgewick. "Then I shall be here bright and early on the morning of June the seventh to conduct examinations. I presume for you, too, Miss Bidson."
"Yes, ma'am."
"So, if you please, just give me each student's name and grade level."
Ida found a piece of paper, and while the class looked on in silence, she provided the information.
Miss Sedgewick took the paper, folded it up, and placed it in her purse. "I wish each and every one of you good luck," she said, and started for the door. Reaching it, she paused. "Two more things," she said. "I urge you to inform your parents and the school board about what you are doing. And, Miss Bidson, do get into dry clothing before you catch your death of cold."
The children waited until they heard the sound of a car driving away.
"I suppose," said Ida, "we'll just have to work harder."
"And there's one more thing," Herbert called out.
"What's that?"
"No more swimming!"
Â
When Ida and Felix got home that afternoon, Ida went right into the kitchen. Her mother was at the big plank table kneading their weekly bread.
"Ida!" she cried. "What happened to you?"
"We had some fun at school today," Ida said ruefully.
Mrs. Bidson gave her daughter a look. "Ida, are you teaching or playing games down there?"
"I'm
teaching,
Ma," Ida said hotly. Then she told her everything that had happened, including the unfortunate visit by Miss Sedgewick. "Now the whole school has to take exams," Ida said. "I've ruined everything."
"If you had," her mother said, "that woman would have said so."
"In the whole time I've been teaching," Ida said, "it was the only fooling I've done. Anyway, it was fun." She pouted. "The most fun I've had in a long time."
"Ida, a teacher will always be held up as an example to her students."
"That's not fair!" Ida burst out. "I'm a person, too. I should study electricity, like Tom. Or play with a printing press. No one thinks
he's
bad when he's fooling."
"Speaking of bad, I'm afraid I have more unfortunate news," said her mother. "I met Herbert Bixler's pa when your father and I were at the feed store today. He complained to me that Herbert is wasting his time going to school. Said he wants to go to the school board and complain that you're keeping the school open."
"He didn't!"
"Well, perhaps he was just talking big."
"Ma, you know what I think? I think Mr. Bixler doesn't want Herbert to come to school at all!"
"I'm just telling you what he said."
"Or maybe Mr. Bixler's mad at me because I went down to his place," Ida confessed.
"Did you? Why?"
"Ma, it's what teachers do. Herbert hadn't been in school. I'm supposed to find out why. You know what Mr. Bixler said? Said Herbert's schooling doesn't matter."
"Honey, Mr. Bixler's wife died when Herbert was still a baby. Mr. Bixler's had bad luck on his farm. Lost a whole lot of sheep because of disease. Folks say his debt is piling up. He's not a happy man. Unhappy folks do unhappy things."
"Do you think Mr. Jordan already knows what we're doing?"
"Ida, in this valleyâsooner or laterâeverybody knows everything about everybody. You could tell him yourself, you know."
"He'd only say no."
A frowning Ida sat down before the kitchen table.
"Is there something else?" her mother asked.
Ida said nothing.
"Is it Tom?"
Ida shook her head.
"Can't be any worse than what you've already told me, can it?" her mother coaxed.
"Ma ... I've been working so hard at teaching, I've been letting my own studying go. Way I'm going, I'll be the only one failing the exam."
"Well, Miss Bidson, however you decide to head off that problem, I suggest you start by getting into some clean clothes."
Thirteen
T HAT EVENING AFTER her chores and grading were done, Ida worked late into the night. She began with her reader, focusing on sections she had not read before. She studied grammar and tried to memorize passages, working in particular on "A Psalm of Life," a poem by Longfellow. In the
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