The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, Part 5.

  CHAPTER XXI

  VACATION was approaching. The schoolmaster, always severe, grewseverer and more exacting than ever, for he wanted the school to make agood showing on "Examination" day. His rod and his ferule were seldomidle now--at least among the smaller pupils. Only the biggest boys, andyoung ladies of eighteen and twenty, escaped lashing. Mr. Dobbins'lashings were very vigorous ones, too; for although he carried, underhis wig, a perfectly bald and shiny head, he had only reached middleage, and there was no sign of feebleness in his muscle. As the greatday approached, all the tyranny that was in him came to the surface; heseemed to take a vindictive pleasure in punishing the leastshortcomings. The consequence was, that the smaller boys spent theirdays in terror and suffering and their nights in plotting revenge. Theythrew away no opportunity to do the master a mischief. But he keptahead all the time. The retribution that followed every vengefulsuccess was so sweeping and majestic that the boys always retired fromthe field badly worsted. At last they conspired together and hit upon aplan that promised a dazzling victory. They swore in the sign-painter'sboy, told him the scheme, and asked his help. He had his own reasonsfor being delighted, for the master boarded in his father's family andhad given the boy ample cause to hate him. The master's wife would goon a visit to the country in a few days, and there would be nothing tointerfere with the plan; the master always prepared himself for greatoccasions by getting pretty well fuddled, and the sign-painter's boysaid that when the dominie had reached the proper condition onExamination Evening he would "manage the thing" while he napped in hischair; then he would have him awakened at the right time and hurriedaway to school.

  In the fulness of time the interesting occasion arrived. At eight inthe evening the schoolhouse was brilliantly lighted, and adorned withwreaths and festoons of foliage and flowers. The master sat throned inhis great chair upon a raised platform, with his blackboard behind him.He was looking tolerably mellow. Three rows of benches on each side andsix rows in front of him were occupied by the dignitaries of the townand by the parents of the pupils. To his left, back of the rows ofcitizens, was a spacious temporary platform upon which were seated thescholars who were to take part in the exercises of the evening; rows ofsmall boys, washed and dressed to an intolerable state of discomfort;rows of gawky big boys; snowbanks of girls and young ladies clad inlawn and muslin and conspicuously conscious of their bare arms, theirgrandmothers' ancient trinkets, their bits of pink and blue ribbon andthe flowers in their hair. All the rest of the house was filled withnon-participating scholars.

  The exercises began. A very little boy stood up and sheepishlyrecited, "You'd scarce expect one of my age to speak in public on thestage," etc.--accompanying himself with the painfully exact andspasmodic gestures which a machine might have used--supposing themachine to be a trifle out of order. But he got through safely, thoughcruelly scared, and got a fine round of applause when he made hismanufactured bow and retired.

  A little shamefaced girl lisped, "Mary had a little lamb," etc.,performed a compassion-inspiring curtsy, got her meed of applause, andsat down flushed and happy.

  Tom Sawyer stepped forward with conceited confidence and soared intothe unquenchable and indestructible "Give me liberty or give me death"speech, with fine fury and frantic gesticulation, and broke down in themiddle of it. A ghastly stage-fright seized him, his legs quaked underhim and he was like to choke. True, he had the manifest sympathy of thehouse but he had the house's silence, too, which was even worse thanits sympathy. The master frowned, and this completed the disaster. Tomstruggled awhile and then retired, utterly defeated. There was a weakattempt at applause, but it died early.

  "The Boy Stood on the Burning Deck" followed; also "The Assyrian CameDown," and other declamatory gems. Then there were reading exercises,and a spelling fight. The meagre Latin class recited with honor. Theprime feature of the evening was in order, now--original "compositions"by the young ladies. Each in her turn stepped forward to the edge ofthe platform, cleared her throat, held up her manuscript (tied withdainty ribbon), and proceeded to read, with labored attention to"expression" and punctuation. The themes were the same that had beenilluminated upon similar occasions by their mothers before them, theirgrandmothers, and doubtless all their ancestors in the female lineclear back to the Crusades. "Friendship" was one; "Memories of OtherDays"; "Religion in History"; "Dream Land"; "The Advantages ofCulture"; "Forms of Political Government Compared and Contrasted";"Melancholy"; "Filial Love"; "Heart Longings," etc., etc.

  A prevalent feature in these compositions was a nursed and pettedmelancholy; another was a wasteful and opulent gush of "fine language";another was a tendency to lug in by the ears particularly prized wordsand phrases until they were worn entirely out; and a peculiarity thatconspicuously marked and marred them was the inveterate and intolerablesermon that wagged its crippled tail at the end of each and every oneof them. No matter what the subject might be, a brain-racking effortwas made to squirm it into some aspect or other that the moral andreligious mind could contemplate with edification. The glaringinsincerity of these sermons was not sufficient to compass thebanishment of the fashion from the schools, and it is not sufficientto-day; it never will be sufficient while the world stands, perhaps.There is no school in all our land where the young ladies do not feelobliged to close their compositions with a sermon; and you will findthat the sermon of the most frivolous and the least religious girl inthe school is always the longest and the most relentlessly pious. Butenough of this. Homely truth is unpalatable.

  Let us return to the "Examination." The first composition that wasread was one entitled "Is this, then, Life?" Perhaps the reader canendure an extract from it:

  "In the common walks of life, with what delightful emotions does the youthful mind look forward to some anticipated scene of festivity! Imagination is busy sketching rose-tinted pictures of joy. In fancy, the voluptuous votary of fashion sees herself amid the festive throng, 'the observed of all observers.' Her graceful form, arrayed in snowy robes, is whirling through the mazes of the joyous dance; her eye is brightest, her step is lightest in the gay assembly.

  "In such delicious fancies time quickly glides by, and the welcome hour arrives for her entrance into the Elysian world, of which she has had such bright dreams. How fairy-like does everything appear to her enchanted vision! Each new scene is more charming than the last. But after a while she finds that beneath this goodly exterior, all is vanity, the flattery which once charmed her soul, now grates harshly upon her ear; the ball-room has lost its charms; and with wasted health and imbittered heart, she turns away with the conviction that earthly pleasures cannot satisfy the longings of the soul!"

  And so forth and so on. There was a buzz of gratification from time totime during the reading, accompanied by whispered ejaculations of "Howsweet!" "How eloquent!" "So true!" etc., and after the thing had closedwith a peculiarly afflicting sermon the applause was enthusiastic.

  Then arose a slim, melancholy girl, whose face had the "interesting"paleness that comes of pills and indigestion, and read a "poem." Twostanzas of it will do:

  "A MISSOURI MAIDEN'S FAREWELL TO ALABAMA

  "Alabama, good-bye! I love thee well! But yet for a while do I leave thee now! Sad, yes, sad thoughts of thee my heart doth swell, And burning recollections throng my brow! For I have wandered through thy flowery woods; Have roamed and read near Tallapoosa's stream; Have listened to Tallassee's warring floods, And wooed on Coosa's side Aurora's beam.

  "Yet shame I not to bear an o'er-full heart, Nor blush to turn behind my tearful eyes; 'Tis from no stranger land I now must part, 'Tis to no strangers left I yield these sighs. Welcome and home were mine within this State, Whose vales I leave--whose spires fade fast from me And cold must be mine eyes, and heart, and tete, When, dear Alabama! they turn cold on thee!"

  There were very few there who knew what "tete" meant, but the poem wasvery satisfactory, never
theless.

  Next appeared a dark-complexioned, black-eyed, black-haired younglady, who paused an impressive moment, assumed a tragic expression, andbegan to read in a measured, solemn tone:

  "A VISION

  "Dark and tempestuous was night. Around the throne on high not a single star quivered; but the deep intonations of the heavy thunder constantly vibrated upon the ear; whilst the terrific lightning revelled in angry mood through the cloudy chambers of heaven, seeming to scorn the power exerted over its terror by the illustrious Franklin! Even the boisterous winds unanimously came forth from their mystic homes, and blustered about as if to enhance by their aid the wildness of the scene.

  "At such a time, so dark, so dreary, for human sympathy my very spirit sighed; but instead thereof,

  "'My dearest friend, my counsellor, my comforter and guide--My joy in grief, my second bliss in joy,' came to my side. She moved like one of those bright beings pictured in the sunny walks of fancy's Eden by the romantic and young, a queen of beauty unadorned save by her own transcendent loveliness. So soft was her step, it failed to make even a sound, and but for the magical thrill imparted by her genial touch, as other unobtrusive beauties, she would have glided away un-perceived--unsought. A strange sadness rested upon her features, like icy tears upon the robe of December, as she pointed to the contending elements without, and bade me contemplate the two beings presented."

  This nightmare occupied some ten pages of manuscript and wound up witha sermon so destructive of all hope to non-Presbyterians that it tookthe first prize. This composition was considered to be the very finesteffort of the evening. The mayor of the village, in delivering theprize to the author of it, made a warm speech in which he said that itwas by far the most "eloquent" thing he had ever listened to, and thatDaniel Webster himself might well be proud of it.

  It may be remarked, in passing, that the number of compositions inwhich the word "beauteous" was over-fondled, and human experiencereferred to as "life's page," was up to the usual average.

  Now the master, mellow almost to the verge of geniality, put his chairaside, turned his back to the audience, and began to draw a map ofAmerica on the blackboard, to exercise the geography class upon. But hemade a sad business of it with his unsteady hand, and a smotheredtitter rippled over the house. He knew what the matter was, and sethimself to right it. He sponged out lines and remade them; but he onlydistorted them more than ever, and the tittering was more pronounced.He threw his entire attention upon his work, now, as if determined notto be put down by the mirth. He felt that all eyes were fastened uponhim; he imagined he was succeeding, and yet the tittering continued; iteven manifestly increased. And well it might. There was a garret above,pierced with a scuttle over his head; and down through this scuttlecame a cat, suspended around the haunches by a string; she had a ragtied about her head and jaws to keep her from mewing; as she slowlydescended she curved upward and clawed at the string, she swungdownward and clawed at the intangible air. The tittering rose higherand higher--the cat was within six inches of the absorbed teacher'shead--down, down, a little lower, and she grabbed his wig with herdesperate claws, clung to it, and was snatched up into the garret in aninstant with her trophy still in her possession! And how the light didblaze abroad from the master's bald pate--for the sign-painter's boyhad GILDED it!

  That broke up the meeting. The boys were avenged. Vacation had come.

  NOTE:--The pretended "compositions" quoted in this chapter are taken without alteration from a volume entitled "Prose and Poetry, by a Western Lady"--but they are exactly and precisely after the schoolgirl pattern, and hence are much happier than any mere imitations could be.