CHAPTER XXI
A SCHOOL DISTRICT HELD UP
Young McGeehee Simms was loitering along the snowy way to the schoolhousebearing a brightly scoured tin pail two-thirds full of water. He had beenallowed to act as Water Superintendent of the Woodruff School as a rewardof merit--said merit being an essay on which he received credit in bothlanguage and geography on "Harvesting Wheat in the Tennessee Mountains."This had been of vast interest to the school in view of the fact that theSimmses were the only pupils in the school who had ever seen in use thatsupposedly-obsolete harvesting implement, the cradle. Buddy's essay hadbeen passed over to the class in United States history as the evidence ofan eye-witness concerning farming conditions in our grandfathers' times.
The surnameless Pete, Colonel Woodruff's hired man, halted Buddy at thedoor.
"Mr. Simms, I believe?" he said.
"I reckon you must be lookin' for my brother, Raymond, suh," said Buddy.
"I am a-lookin'," said Pete impressively, "for Mr. McGeehee Simms."
"That's me," said Buddy; "but I hain't been doin' nothin' wrong, suh!"
"I have a message here," said Pete, "for Professor James E. Irwin. He'swhat-ho within, there, ain't he?"
"He's inside, I reckon," said Buddy.
"Then will you be so kind and condescendin' as to stoop so low as to jumpso high as to give him this letter?" asked Pete.
Buddy took the letter and was considering of his reply to this remarkablespeech, when Pete, gravely saluting, passed on, rather congratulatinghimself on having staged a very good burlesque of the dignified manners ofthose queer mountaineers, the Simmses.
"Please come to the meeting to-night," ran the colonel's note to Jim; "and when you come, come prepared to hold the district up. If we can't meet the Pottawatomie County standard of wages, we ought to lose you. Everybody in the district will be there. Come late, so you won't hear yourself talked about--I should recommend nine-thirty and war-paint."
It was a crisis, no doubt of that; and the responsibility of the situationrather sickened Jim of the task of teaching. How could he imposeconditions on the whole school district? How could the colonel expect sucha thing of him? And how could any one look for anything but scorn for theupstart field-hand from these men who had for so many years made him thebutt of their good-natured but none the less contemptuous ridicule? Whowas he, anyway, to lay down rules for these substantial and successfulmen--he who had been for all the years of his life at their command,subservient to their demands for labor--their underling? Only one thingkept him from dodging the whole issue and remaining at home--the colonel'smatter-of-fact assumption that Jim had become master of the situation. Howcould he flee, when this old soldier was fighting so valiantly for him inthe trenches? So Jim went to the meeting.
The season was nearing spring, and it was a mild thawy night. The windowsof the schoolhouse were filled with heads, evidencing the presence of acrowd of almost unprecedented size, and the sashes had been thrown up forventilation and coolness. As Jim climbed the back fence of theschool-yard, he heard a burst of applause, from which he judged that somespeaker had just finished his remarks. There was silence when he camealongside the window at the right of the chairman's desk, a silence brokenby the voice of Old Man Simms, saying "Mistah Chairman!"
"The chair," said the voice of Ezra Bronson, "recognizes Mr. Simms."
Jim halted in indecision. He was not expected while the debate was inprogress, and therefore regarded himself at this time as somewhat _detrop_. There is no rule of manners or morals, however, forbiddingeavesdropping during the proceedings of a public meeting--and anyhow, hefelt rather shiveringly curious about these deliberations. Therefore helistened to the first and last public speech of Old Man Simms.
"Ah ain't no speaker," said Old Man Simms, "but Ah cain't set here and bequiet an' go home an' face my ole woman an' my boys an' gyuhls withoutensayin' a word fo' the best friend any family evah had, Mr. Jim Irwin."(Applause.) "Ah owe it to him that Ah've got the right to speak in thismeetin' at all. Gentlemen, we-all owe everything to Mr. Jim Irwin! MaybeAh'll be thought forrard to speak hyah, bein' as Ah ain't no learnin' an'some may think Ah don't pay no taxes; but it will be overlooked, I reckon,seein' as how we've took the Blanchard farm, a hundred an' sixty acres,for five yeahs, an' move in a week from Sat'day. We pay taxes in our rent,Ah reckon, an' howsomever that may be, Ah've come to feel that you-allwon't think hard of me if Ah speak what we-uns feel so strong about Mr.Jim Irwin?"
Old Man Simms finished this exordium with the rising inflection, whichdenoted a direct question as to his status in the meeting. "Go on!""You've got as good a right as any one!" "You're all right, old man!" Suchexclamations as these came to Jim's ears with scarcely less gratefulnessthan to those of Old Man Simms--who stammered and went on.
"Ah thank you-all kindly. Gentlemen an' ladies, when Mr. Jim Irwin foundus, we was scandalous pore, an' we was wuss'n pore--we was low-down."(Cries of "No--No!") "Yes, we was, becuz what's respectable in themountings is one thing, whar all the folks is pore, but when a man gets ina new place, he's got to lift himse'f up to what folks does where he'scome to, or he'll fall to the bottom of what there is in that therecommunity--an' maybe he'll make a place fer himse'f lower'n anybody else.In the mountings we was good people, becuz we done the best we could an'the best any one done; but hyah, we was low-down people becuz we hated thepeople that had mo' learnin', mo' land, mo' money, an' mo' friends thanwhat we had. My little gyuhls wasn't respectable in their clothes. Mychildern was igernant, an' triflin', but I was the most triflin' of all.Ah'll leave it to Colonel Woodruff if I was good fer a plug of terbacker,or a bakin' of flour at any sto' in the county. Was I, Colonel? Wasn't Iperfectly wuthless an' triflin'?"
There was a ripple of laughter, in the midst of which the colonel's voicewas heard saying, "I guess you were, Mr. Simms, I guess you were,but----"
"Thankee," said Old Man Simms, as if the colonel had given a reallyvaluable testimonial to his character. "I sho' was! Thankee kindly!An'now, what am I good fer? Cain't I get anything I want at the stores?Cain't I git a little money at the bank, if I got to have it?"
"You're just as good as any man in the district," said the colonel. "Youdon't ask for more than you can pay, and you can get all you ask."
"Thankee," said Mr. Simms gravely. "What Ah tell you-all is right, ladiesand gentlemen. An' what has made the change in we-uns, ladies andgentlemen? It's the wuk of Mr. Jim Irwin with my boy Raymond, the best boyany man evah hed, and my gyuhl, Calista, an' Buddy, an' Jinnie, an' withme an' my ole woman. He showed us how to get a toe-holt into this newkentry. He teached the children what orto be did by a rentin' farmer inIoway. He done lifted us up, an' made people of us. He done showed us thatyou-all is good people, an' not what we thought you was. Outen what helearned in school, my boy Raymond an' me made as good crops as we couldlast summer, an' done right much wuk outside. We got the name of bein'good farmers an' good wukkers, an' when Mr. Blanchard moved to town, hesaid he was glad to give us his fine farm for five years. Now, see whatMr. Jim Irwin has done for a pack o' outlaws and outcasts. Instid o'hidin' out from the Hobdays that was lay-wayin' us in the mountings, we'llbe livin' in a house with two chimleys an' a swimmin' tub made outencrock'ryware. We'll be in debt a whole lot--an' we owe it to Mr. Jim Irwinthat we got the credit to git in debt with, an' the courage to go on andgit out agin!" (Applause.) "Ah could affo'd to pay Mr. Jim Irwin's salarymysr'f, if Ah could. An' there's enough men hyah to-night that say they'vebeen money-he'ped by his teachin' the school to make up mo' than hiswages. Let's not let Mr. Jim Irwin go, neighbors! Let's not let him go!"
Jim's heart sank. Surely the case was desperate which could call forthsuch a forlorn-hope charge as that of Old Man Simms--a performance on Mr.Simms' part which warmed Jim's soul. "There isn't a man in that meeting,"said he to himself, as he walked to the schoolhouse door, "possessed ofthe greatness of spirit of Old Man Simms. If he's a fair sample of thepeople of the mountains, they are of the stuff of whic
h great nations aremade--if they only are given a chance!"
Colonel Woodruff was on his feet as Jim made his way through the crowdabout the door.
"Mr. Irwin is here, ladies and gentlemen," said he, "and I move that wehear from him as to what we can do to meet the offer of our friends inPottawatomie County, who have heard of his good work, and want him to workfor them; but before I yield the floor, I want to say that this meetinghas been worth while just to have been the occasion of our all becomingbetter acquainted with our friend and neighbor, Mr. Simms. Whatever mayhave been the lack of understanding, on our part, of his qualities, theywere all cleared up by that speech of his--the best I have ever heard inthis neighborhood."
More applause, in the midst of which Old Man Simms slunk away down in hisseat to escape observation. Then the chairman said that if there was noobjection they would hear from their well-known citizen, whose growingfame was more remarkable for the fact that it had been gained as a countryschoolmaster--he need not add that he referred to Mr. James E. Irwin. Moreand louder applause.
"Friends and neighbors," said Jim, "you ask me to say to you what I wantyou to do. I want you to do what you want to do--nothing more nor less.Last year I was glad to be tolerated here; and the only change in thesituation lies in the fact that I have another place offered me--unlessthere has been a change in your feelings toward me and my work. I hopethere has been; for I know my work is good now, whereas I only believed itthen."
"Sure it is!" shouted Con Bonner from a front seat, thus signalizing thatastute wire-puller's definite choice of a place in the bandwagon. "Tell uswhat you want, Jim!"
"What do I want?" asked Jim. "More than anything else, I want suchmeetings as this--often--and a place to hold them. If I stay in theWoodruff District, I want this meeting to effect a permanent organizationto work with me. I can't teach this district anything. Nobody can teachany one anything. All any teacher can do is to direct people's activitiesin teaching themselves. You are gathered here to decide what you'll doabout the small matter of keeping me at work as your hired man. You can'tmake any legal decision here, but whatever this meeting decides will belaw, just the same, because a majority of the people of the district arehere. Such a meeting as this can decide almost anything. If I'm to be yourhired man, I want a boss in the shape of a civic organization which willtake in every man and woman in the district. Here's the place and now'sthe time to make that organization--an organization the object of whichshall be to put the whole district at school, and to boss me in my workfor the whole district."
"Dat sounds good," cried Haakon Peterson. "Ve'll do dat!"
"Then I want you to work out a building scheme for the school," Jim wenton. "We want a place where the girls can learn to cook, keep house, takecare of babies, sew and learn to be wives and mothers. We want a place inwhich Mrs. Hansen can come to show them how to cure meat--she's the besthand at that in the county--where Mrs. Bonner can teach them to make breadand pastry--she ought to be given a doctor's degree for that--where Mrs.Woodruff can teach them the cooking of turkeys, Mrs. Peterson the way togive the family a balanced ration, and Mrs. Simms induct them into themysteries of weaving rag rugs and making jellies and preserves--you canall learn these things from her. There's somebody right in thisneighborhood able to teach anything the young people want to learn.
"And I want a physician here once in a while to examine the children as totheir health, and a dentist to look after their teeth and teach them howto care for them. Also an oculist to examine their eyes. And when BettinaHansen comes home from the hospital a trained nurse, I want her to have ajob as visiting nurse right here in the Woodruff District.
"I want a counting-room for the keeping of the farm accounts and therecord of our observation in farming. I want cooperation in letting ushave these accounts.
"I want some manual training equipment for wood-working and metal working,and a blacksmith and wagon shop, in which the boys may learn to shoehorses, repair tools, design buildings, and practise the best agriculturalengineering. So I want a blacksmith and handyman with tools regularly onthe job--and he'll more than pay his way. I want some land for actualfarming. I want to do work in poultry according to the most modernbreeding discoveries, and I want your cooperation in that, and a poultryplant somewhere in the district.
"I want a laboratory in which we can work on seeds, pests, soils, feedsand the like. For the education of your children must come out of thesethings.
"I want these things because they are necessary if we are to get theculture out of life we should get--and nobody gets culture out of any sortof school--they get it out of life, or they don't get it at all.
"So I want you to build as freely for your school as for your cattle andhorses and hogs.
"The school I ask for will make each of you more money than the taxes itwill require would make if invested in your farm equipment. If you are notconvinced of this, don't bother with me any longer. But the money theschool will make for you--this new kind of rural school--will be asnothing to the social life which will grow up--a social life which willmake necessary an assembly-room, which will be the social center, becauseit will be the educational center, and the business center of thecountryside.
"I want all these things, and more. But I don't expect them all at once. Iknow that this district is too small to do all of them, and therefore, Iam going to tell you of another want which will tempt you to think that Iam crazy. I want a bigger district--one that will give us the financialstrength to carry out the program I have sketched. This may be apresumptuous thing for me to propose; but the whole situation hereto-night is presumptuous on my part, I fear. If you think so, let me go;but if you don't, please keep this meeting together in a permanentorganization of grown-up members of the Woodruff school, and by pullingtogether, you can do these things--all of them--and many more--and you'llmake the Woodruff District a good place to live in and die in--and I shallbe proud to live and die in it at your service, as the neighborhood'shired man!"
As Jim sat down there was a hush in the crowded room, as if the peoplewere dazed at his assurance. There was no applause, until Jennie Woodruff,now seen by Jim for the first time over next the blackboard, clapped hergloved hands together and started it; then it swept out through thewindows in a storm. The dust rose from stamping feet until the kerosenelamps were dimmed by it. And as the noise subsided, Jim saw standing outin front the stooped form of B. B. Hamm, one of the most prosperous men inthe district.
"Mr. Chairman--Ezra Bronson," he roared, "this feller's crazy, an' fromthe sound of things, you're all as crazy as he is. If this fool scheme ofhis goes through, my farm's for sale! I'll quit before I'm sold out fortaxes!"
"Just a minute, B. B.!" interposed Colonel Woodruff. "This ain't asdangerous as you think. You don't want us to do all this in fifteenminutes, do you, Jim?"
"Oh, as to that," replied Jim, "I just wanted you to have in your mindswhat I have in my mind--and unless we can agree to work toward thesethings there's no use in my staying. But time--that's another matter.Believe with me, and I'll work with you."
"Get out of here!" said the colonel to Jim in an undertone, "and leave therest to your friends."
Jim walked out of the room and took the way toward his home. A horse tiedto the hitching-pole had his blanket under foot, and Jim replaced it onhis back, patting him kindly and talking horse language to him. Then hewent up and down the line of teams, readjusting blankets, tying loosenedknots, and assuring himself that his neighbors' horses were securely tiedand comfortable. He knew horses better than he knew people, he thought. Ifhe could manage people as he could manage horses--but that would be wrong.The horse did his work as a servant, submissive to the wills of others;the community could never develop anything worth while in its common life,until it worked the system out for itself. Horse management was despotism;man-government must be like the government of a society of wild horses,the result of the common work of the members of the herd.
Two figures emerged from the schoolhouse d
oor, and as he turned toward hishome after his pastoral calls on the horses, they overtook him. They werethe figures of Newton Bronson and the county superintendent of schools.
"We were coming after you," said Jennie.
"Dad wants you back there again," said Newton.
"What for?" inquired Jim.
"You silly boy," said Jennie, "you talked about the good of the schoolsall of the time, and never said a word about your own salary! What do youwant? They want to know?"
"Oh!" exclaimed Jim in the manner of one who suddenly remembers that hehas forgotten his umbrella or his pocket-knife. "I forgot all about it. Ihaven't thought about that at all, Jennie!"
"Jim," said she, "you need a guardian!"
"I know it, Jennie," said he, "and I know who I want. I want----"
"Please come back," said Jennie, "and tell papa how much you're going tohold the district up for."
"You run back," said Jim to Newton, "and tell your father that whatever isright in the way of salary will be satisfactory to me. I leave that to thepeople."
Newton darted off, leaving the schoolmaster standing in the road with thecounty superintendent.
"I can't go back there!" said Jim.
"I'm proud of you, Jim," said Jennie. "This community has found itsmaster. They can't do all you ask now, nor very soon; but finally they'lldo just as you want them to do. And, Jim, I want to say that I've been thebiggest little fool in the county!"