LESSON 26
THE TEACHER AND SICK SCHOLAR
Shortly after the schoolmaster had arranged the forms and taken his seat behind his desk, a small white-headed boy with a sunburnt face appeared at the door, and, stopping there to make a rustic bow, came in and took his seat upon one of the forms. He then put an open book, astonishingly dog's-eared, upon his knees, and, thrusting his hands into his pockets, began counting the marbles with which they were filled; displaying, in the expression of his face, a remarkable capacity of totally abstracting his mind from the spelling on which his eyes were fixed.
Soon afterward, another white-headed little boy came straggling in, and after him, a red-headed lad, and then one with a flaxen poll, until the forms were occupied by a dozen boys, or thereabouts, with heads of every color but gray, and ranging in their ages from four years old to fourteen years or more; for the legs of the youngest were a long way from the floor, when he sat upon the form; and the eldest was a heavy, good-tempered fellow, about half a head taller than the schoolmaster.
At the top of the first form—the post of honor in the school—was the vacant place of the little sick scholar; and, at the head of the row of pegs, on which those who wore hats or caps were wont to hang them, one was empty. No boy attempted to violate the sanctity of seat or peg, but many a one looked from the empty spaces to the schoolmaster, and whispered to his idle neighbor, behind his hand.
Then began the hum of conning over lessons and getting them by heart, the whispered jest and stealthy game, and all the noise and drawl of school; and in the midst of the din, sat the poor schoolmaster, vainly attempting to fix his mind upon the duties of the day, and to forget his little sick friend. But the tedium of his office reminded him more strongly of the willing scholar, and his thoughts were rambling from his pupils—it was plain.
None knew this better than the idlest boys, who, growing bolder with impunity, waxed louder and more daring; playing “odd or even” under the master's eye; eating apples openly and without rebuke; pinching each other in sport or malice, without the least reserve; and cutting their initials in the very legs of his desk. The puzzled dunce, who stood beside it to say his lesson “off the book, ” looked no longer at the ceiling for forgotten words, but drew closer to the master's elbow, and boldly cast his eye upon the page; the wag of the little troop squinted and made grimaces (at the smallest boy, of course), holding no book before his face, and his approving companions knew no constraint in their delight. If the master did chance to rouse himself, and seem alive to what was going on, the noise subsided for a moment, and no eye met his but wore a studious and deeply humble look; but the instant he relapsed again, it broke out afresh, and ten times louder than before.
Oh! how some of those idle fellows longed to be outside, and how they looked at the open door and window, as if they half meditated rushing violently out, plunging into the woods, and being wild boys and savages from that time forth. What rebellious thoughts of the cool river, and some shady bathing place, beneath willow trees with branches dipping in the water, kept tempting and urging that sturdy boy, who, with his shirt collar unbuttoned, and flung back as far as it could go, sat fanning his flushed face with a spelling book, wishing himself a whale, or a minnow, or a fly, or anything but a boy at school, on that hot, broiling day.
Heat! ask that other boy, whose seat being nearest to the door, gave him opportunities of gliding out into the garden, and driving his companions to madness, by dipping his face into the bucket of the well, and then rolling on the grass, —ask him if there was ever such a day as that, when even the bees were diving deep down into the cups of the flowers, and stopping there, as if they had made up their minds to retire from business, and be manufacturers of honey no more. The day was made for laziness, and lying on one's back in green places, and staring at the sky, till its brightness forced the gazer to shut his eyes and go to sleep. And was this a time to be poring over musty books in a dark room, slighted by the very sun itself? Monstrous!
The lessons over, writing time began. This was a more quiet time; for the master would come and look over the writer's shoulder, and mildly tell him to observe how such a letter was turned up, in such a copy on the wall, which had been written by their sick companion, and bid him take it as a model. Then he would stop and tell them what the sick child had said last night, and how he had longed to be among them once again; and such was the poor schoolmaster's gentle and affectionate manner, that the boys seemed quite remorseful that they had worried him so much, and were absolutely quiet; eating no apples, cutting no names, and making no grimaces for full two minutes afterward.
“I think, boys, ” said the schoolmaster, when the clock struck twelve, “that I shall give you an extra half holiday this afternoon.” At this intelligence, the boys, led on and headed by the tall boy, raised a great shout, in the midst of which the master was seen to speak, but could not be heard. As he held up his hand, however, in token of his wish that they should be silent, they were considerate enough to leave off, as soon as the longest-winded among them were quite out of breath. “You must promise me, first, ” said the schoolmaster, “that you'll not be noisy, or at least, if you are, that you'll go away first, out of the village, I mean. I'm sure you wouldn't disturb your old playmate and companion.”
There was a general murmur (and perhaps a very sincere one, for they were but boys) in the negative; and the tall boy, perhaps as sincerely as any of them, called those about him to witness, that he had only shouted in a whisper. “Then pray don't forget, there's my dear scholars, ” said the schoolmaster, “what I have asked you, and do it as a favor to me. Be as happy as you can, and don't be unmindful that you are blessed with health. Good-by, all.”
“Thank 'ee, sir, ” and “Good-by, sir, ” were said a great many times in a great variety of voices, and the boys went out very slowly and softly. But there was the sun shining and there were birds singing, as the sun only shines and the birds only sing on holidays and half holidays; there were the trees waving to all free boys to climb, and nestle among their leafy branches; the hay, entreating them to come and scatter it to the pure air; the green corn, gently beckoning toward wood and stream; the smooth ground, rendered smoother still by blending lights and shadows, inviting to runs and leaps, and long walks, nobody knows whither. It was more than boy could bear, and with a joyous whoop, the whole cluster took to their heels, and spread themselves about, shouting and laughing as they went. “ 'Tis natural, thank Heaven! ” said the poor schoolmaster, looking after them, “I am very glad they didn't mind me.”
Toward night, the schoolmaster walked over to the cottage where his little friend lay sick. Knocking gently at the cottage door, it was opened without loss of time. He entered a room where a group of women were gathered about one who was wringing her hands and crying bitterly. “O dame! ” said the schoolmaster, drawing near her chair, “is it so bad as this? ” Without replying, she pointed to another room, which the schoolmaster immediately entered; and there lay his little friend, half-dressed, stretched upon a bed.
He was a very young boy; quite a little child. His hair still hung in curls about his face, and his eyes were very bright; but their light was of heaven, not of earth. The schoolmaster took a seat beside him, and, stooping over the pillow whispered his name. The boy sprung up, stroked his face with his hand, and threw his wasted arms around his neck, crying, that he was his dear, kind friend. “I hope I always was. I meant to be, God knows, ” said the poor schoolmaster. “You remember my garden, Henry? ” whispered the old man, anxious to rouse him, for dullness seemed gathering upon the child, “and how pleasant it used to be in the evening time? You must make haste to visit it again, for I think the very flowers have missed you, and are less gay than they used to be. You will come soon, very soon now, won't you? ”
The boy smiled faintly—so very, very faintly—and put his hand upon his friend's gray head. He moved his lips too, but no voice came from them, —no, not a sound. In the silence that ensued, the hum of distant voices, borne upon the evening air, came floating through the open window. “What's that? ” said the sick child, opening his eyes. “The boys at play, upon the green.” He took a handkerchief from his pillow, and tried to wave it above his head. But the feeble arm dropped powerless down.“Shall I do it? ” said the schoolmaster. “Please wave it at the window, ” was the faint reply. “Tie it to the lattice. Some of them may see it there. Perhaps they'll think of me, and look this way.”
He raised his head and glanced from the fluttering signal to his idle bat, that lay, with slate, and book, and other boyish property, upon the table in the room. And then he laid him softly down once more, and again clasped his little arms around the old man's neck. The two old friends and companions—for such they were, though they were man and child—held each other in a long embrace, and then the little scholar turned his face to the wall and fell asleep.
* * * * * * * * *
The poor schoolmaster sat in the same place, holding the small, cold hand in his, and chafing it. It was but the hand of a dead child. He felt that; and yet he chafed it still, and could not lay it down.
From “The Old Curiosity Shop, ” by Dickens
STUDY GUIDE
A. Vocabulary power—Read the definitions carefully and fill in the blanks with words from the story.
1. dog's eared (adjective)—a book that is old and falling apart
2. vacant (adjective)—empty/containing nothing
3. sanctity (noun)—something that is very highly respected
4. din (noun)—a long, loud noise
5. tedium (noun)—the state of boredom
6. pupils (noun)—students in elementary or secondary school
7. feeble (adjective)—weak, having no energy
8. scholar (noun)—a boy or girl who studies in school
a) Nobody was sitting in the boy's seat. It was ___________________.
b) The _____________studied their lesson in the school.
c) The _______________in the story was very sick.
d) The book was in poor condition. It was ______________.
e) Other students respected the ______________of the sick scholar's desk.
f) The ______________of doing the same thing everyday drove him crazy.
g) She had no power in her legs. They were _______________.
h) Everybody covered their ears because of the _______________.
B. Comprehension Questions—Answer the following questions.
1. Why did the schoolmaster have trouble teaching his class on this day? Explain.
2. Why did the schoolmaster tell the boys to take a holiday in the afternoon? Explain.
3. Why did all the students want to be outside? Explain.
4. Where did the schoolmaster go at night? Why?
5. How did the “sick scholar” feel about the schoolmaster? How do you know?
6. At the end of the story, why wouldn't the schoolmaster let go of the boy's hand?
C. How do we know? The following statements are true. Tell how we know they are true from the reading.
1. The students were noisy.
_________________________
2. The schoolmaster and the “sick scholar” were friends.
_________________________
3. The other students respected the “sick scholar”.
_________________________
4. The “sick scholar” was a good student.
_________________________
5. The weather was hot.
_________________________