Jed’s “Schoolin’”

Jed's "Schoolin"' THE SECOND OF A SERIES OF FOUR JED STORIES, EACH COMPLETE IN ITSELF BY IDA STEWART PEAY I. Three sheep-herders sat upon a log before a rousing camp- fire the first chill evening in September. "Well, fellers, I'm goin' to leave you," announced big, dark- eyed Jed solemnly, looking long and fixedly into the flaring flames. "Goin' to leave us!" exclaimed the other two in surprise, "Honest?" "Honest Injun." For a moment Jed's two partners sat in dumb astonishment. Finally they cried together with one thought : "Where you goin' to?" "Up north," said Jed, briefly, still gazing intently at the fire pictures. "Well, up north where to and what fur?" chorused the other two impatiently. "I'm goin' to go to school," Jed's voice had a fateful ring that left his hearers quite convinced. "Well, I'll be dog-goned !" swore blunt Abe. "Goin' in fur schoolin' !" "So that's the card you've had up your sleeve all summer, is it? Well!" marveled Hebe. "I knew there was somethin' on your mind," declared Abe. "That's why yon been reading your eyes out and wouldn't play a game," accused Hebe. "That's why you been hangin' on to your 'dough,' wouldn't even spend a copper for a sociable cigarette," slurred Abe good- naturedly. "Then, I guess he promised the 'little teacher' he'd not tech the weed no more," snickered Hebe. "Oh, no," Jed hastened to deny, "she didn't know I'd ever used it." "Did she tell you to read all them books?" asked the unre- served Abe. "She did," admitted the young man. "She said if I'd read all these through, this summer, I'd be ready for the big school this fall."

JED'S "SCHOOLlN* 149 "Did she ? well ! And how did she think you'd get the monev to go there ? propounded Abe. "Did she think you was livin' off the interest of your monev last winter, when you had to soak your pocket knife fur a dance- ticket?" chuckled Hebe. "Does she know you ain't got no wheres to lay your head 'cept under a sage brush, and no pa nor ma but me and Hebe?" quizzed Abe. "And can't earn more'n thirty dollars a month to save vour hide?" added Hebe. "No, and before she knows all that any better than she can guess it, it's goin' to change some," declared Jed warmly, his black- eyes turning to the camp-fire's sudden flare. "When she told me I was ready for the big school up north this fall I just said, 'all right, I'll be there the very first day,' and now I'm goin' to get there. Do you think I'm goin' to herd sheep all my life for thirty dollars a month, when a slip of a girl, younger'n me, and little enough to go in my pocket, can pick up eighty-five, pullin' the reigns on a couple of dozen chumps like us ? No, by gingoes !" and Jed threw back the thick black hair from his bronzed forehead with the old familiar movement of independence and daring. "That's a whoopin' good talk, but does the 'big gush' like that pay fur schoolin', and books, an' board, stage an' railroad fares an' cetry?" enquired Abe dryly. "I don't know yet," owned Jed, "but I'm goin' to see. Tell you later." "By-the-way, give my love to the 'little teacher,' " breezed Hebe, with a meaning grin. "Happen to know she lives in the same town that school's in you're goin' to." "Yes," Jed agreed thoughtfully, "but I won't see her, she's coming back here to get you and Abe and Sally Brown ready for the trip next year." "Did she say that?" both young men enquired soberly, won- deringly. "You bet she did," Jed assured them. "Bless her heart," murmured Abe. "Amen," grinned Hebe, "I sure ain't objectin'. I'd make a nifty professor, I reckon." There was a short silence. Each boy was no doubt thinking of the little blue-eyed school mistress who had come into their town the last winter and startled them all out of their blissful, ignorant complacency, and set at least one of them upon a new quest for something better. "Then you'll be a lorn figer up there, fur sure," mused Hebe at the end of his reverie. Abe's rumination finally brought him, also, back to Jed s con-

ISO IMPROVEMENT ERA templated venture. "I don't reckon you'll have much money to start on," he speculated, his mind on the details as usual. "Hum ! When I've bought me enough decent clothes to stand up in, and paid Brenker Bates for that dead horse, I'll have a little old lonesome twenty dollars left," confessed the would-be scholar. Hebe and Abe burst out laughing. "Goin' to travel without purse or scrip?" joked Hebe. Jed laughed his big hearty laugh with them. But as quick as the outburst of mirth came a sobering thought to the true-blue partners. "Jed, you're clean crazy," cried Hebe. "Twenty dollars won't pay your fare there," vowed Abe earnestly. "I'm goin' to get a tie pass," exclaimed Jed. "What, walk three hundred miles?" shouted Hebe incred- ulously. "That's the only way," drawled the big sheep-herder, blink- ing his dark eyes unconcernedly at the now flickering camp-fire. "Goin' to work your grub like a tramp?" Hebe jested dis- spiritedly. "Something like." "Say," burst out Abe, with a happy thought, "I'll bet you a primer agin' a deck o' cards that you'll never see the inside of that school. Away this side of there you'll be jugged for a vagrant." Jed laughingly took the bet and the two shook hands. "I'll write you the day I win," promised Jed. "And if I win?" questioned Abe. "Why, I'll mail you a deck of cards from the jail," he laughed. The three partners talked until far into the night, Hebe and Abe using every argument at their command to dissuade their comrade from such a fool-hardy exploit ; but the big herder re- mained adamant. II. The next week the boys went over to town to see their old friend off. All the rising generation of Blackgulch came out to bid the boy good-by, for, reckless, lawless, dare-devil though he had been, there was not a young heart between the peaks that did not love Jed. Of course, the young ladies had never owned to so strong a feeling, but, as Fanny Meyer often said — "actions speak louder than words." With his new clothes in a bundle on his back and a twenty- dollar gold-piece in his pocket the big sheep-herder struck out for the unknown world. Hebe and Abe followed him to the brow of the first hill. After the last warm hand-shakes and good-bys were over, practical Abe lamented, "I'd have to see the trail a

JED'S "SCHOOLIN"' 151 little ways ahead if 'twas me. I don't see how you're ?oin' to doit!" "I don't either," Jed laughed his infectious laugh, "all I know is that I'm goin' to." And away he went with his head high, like he always carried it, and his hopes — in the clouds. He swung his great weight along easily, gracefully; there was power and independence in his movements; there was pride, assurance and the love of life in his deep dark eyes, and there was a dauntless, daring stir within his newly striving soul that made him as buoyant and light-hearted as the very atmosphere around him. The first day, strong with the vigor of his determination and the spring of his manhood, he walked a great distance. He was filled with joy, the success of his plans seemed almost realized. Deep down in his heart Jed knew there were many details he had not worked out, but he refused to contend with them until they came into view. He had seen the first step and had taken it, so he laid himself down in the edge of a field when night fell and slept the sleep of the just. Next morning he arose stiff and hun- gry. To be sure he was hungry, the light lunch he had brought with him had been finished yesterday noon. He did not think of food, however, any length of time, but, taking a wash in a sociable- brook, set out again upon the highway. A dozen times that day he made up his" mind to ask for work and a lunch at the next farm house, but somehow the day wore away and he had not done so. Another night's rest refreshed him, and the dawn of the third day found him out on the road again. That day he asked at every house he passed or could sight for work. He asked very humbly and earnestly for work, but though he felt hungry enough to drop in his tracks he could not bring himself , to say he would take his pay in victuals. That was "{pttin§[ the boy— for in spite of his size, he was still only a boy— he could not ask for food. Even if he offered to work for it, to mention grub seemed too much like a certain class of men whom Jed had always abhorred. If he had hinted that he wished to_ work for food no doubt some one would have fed him, but he just askect for work, so he was constantly, he thought persistent y, refused Everybody seemed to be well supplied with farm hands and laborers Jed remembered disconnectedly a sentence about the laborers being few, but he thought there must be some mistake the laborers were many, and no one wanted he. least hand s turn " The third day passed somehow, though it was uncom- monly long, and Jed finally dragged his lagging feet into a way- side cornel selecting a tall rambling bush for a wind bieak he dropped heavily down beside it. He had gone beyond m«to- o-er he was ravenous-he was starving. Sleep was impossible.

152 IMPROVEMENT ERA Try as he would, he could not think of anything but pork and beans, steaming pork and beans, bread and butter, bacon and eggs. Ah, for a supper over the camp-fire with the boys ! How was it that he had never sensed the joy of those tasty, savory, cozy suppers with good old Hebe and Abe. This was very different from what he had planned. He had not expected to starve. Anyway, he was thankful the boys could not know. The thought of turning back presented itself, but stiffening with an effort he laughed the foolish notion to flight. "I told her I would 'make good' or die tryin', I'm not dead yet, not by a long ways." At last he fell into a troubled sleep. All night long he strug- gled with strange and awful adversaries. Morning dawned at last and Jed stumbled back upon the road. Never will he forget that dreadful day. His hunger was now a cruel night-mare, his limbs were almost too weary to carry him and his head throbbed painfully. His pride was shaken, and he made a bee line for the first farm house in view. He was not afraid to ask for food now, he would not only ask, he would simply beg just for a crust. As he neared the place an ominous silence chilled his blood. The house proved to be deserted. The poor boy was heart sick. He thought of breaking in and rifling the pantry, but it might not be stocked ; and besides, he felt too tired to try the trick. He forced his dragging limbs back to the road. Clouds gathered, a drizzling rain fell. Finally a wind arose bearing the keen breath of fall, its chill crept over the spent traveler. Somehow he moved along, but his gait was so slow that it was late afternoon before he reached a small settlement. He made his way straight to the first cottage and knocked weakly upon the door. It was opened by a kindly-faced woman. "Thank God," Jed murmured reverently, under his breath, aloud he hastened to say like any other tramp : "Could I do some work for a bit to eat ?" More blood rushed into his already burning cheeks at the words, but he humbly followed the woman to the wood-pile. When she started back to the house, Jed picked up the ax — swung it twice, then let it fall as he sank with a whispered moan to the log. At that moment the house-wife turned and approached cautiously. "Are you sick?" she asked kindly but suspiciously. "No," the big sheep-herder answered, helplessly, "I'm — I'm hungry. If I could have a little to eat first — " The lady looked at him searchingly. Jed shivered, he felt like a beggar, the words choked him and he dropped his face into his hands. Hearing the lady's footsteps die away, he told himself if she did not return with food he would break down and cry. Unmanlv tears moistened his eyes, his head bent lower and lower,

JED'S "SCHOOLIN"' 153 and he stopped caring or thinking. Presently a voice startled him. "Here, wake up and eat something, then you'll feel better " The dozing tramp raised his head slowly. Lo, beside him was a cup of milk and a plate of bread and butter. He seized the cup and drank with avidity, he fairly pounced upon the bread and butter. In less time than it takes to tell it he had devoured the frugal but wholesome repast to the last crumb. Arising he tried again to swing the ax, but it was no use, he dropped down more tired than before. The house-wife, who had gone away, came out now carrying a comforter. "You need not try to chop any more," she said kindly, "I'll take the will for the deed ! You look like you have a fever. Here, take this quilt and go lie down in the straw shed. If it turns out that you have some disease," she added thinking aloud, "I can burn the quilt and the straw." Jed took the quilt mechanically and, muttering his thanks, sought the shed. Rolling himself into the acceptable comforter, he squeezed himself snugly against a protecting stack and was soon asleep. There he lay sleeping a troubled sleep, dreaming weird, distressing dreams and moaning and tossing for three days. The good house-wife and her husband brought him food and medicine and at last he began to get back his strength. Towards afternoon of the fourth day he felt almost like himself again, and was impatient to be on his way, but he first had a duty to perform. He must repay, at least in part, the kind people who had cared for him during this trying illness. Of course, he intended to re- turn when he became a well-to-do professor and reward them hand- somely, but for the present he would put in a good day's work. The following day he, therefore, spent in the harvest field, though the good farmer, who was now informed of Jed's plans, remon- strated, urging him to hurry along. That he would be five days late was gall and wormwood to Jed, but to receive favors unre- quited was worse. The next day, however, after expressing his sincere gratitude to his friends, and thankfully accepting a gen- erous lunch, he tramped on. He set out bravely enough, but the way still seemed long. About ten o'clock he was overtaken by the farmer he had just left, who said he had business in a settlement some forty miles distant. Of course Jed must ride with him. The boy always doubted the man had business in that town, but the big lift enabled Jed to reach his destination one day earlier than he had expected. Thurs- day evening he crept into a barn on the outskirts of the largest town he had ever seen, where he slept peacefully until morning. III. Friday, September 21, was a fine, sunny day, Jed found a

154 IMPROVEMENT ERA stream in a meadow, where he bathed; and, throwing away his tramp rags, donned the clean clothes he had carried all the way in a bundle. With head high once more he started into town in search of the big school — The Brigham Young Academy. He made no inquiry. Following the country road west for about a half a mile he came upon a broad street upon which he noticed several people with books, hurrying south. There was only one school in Provo to Jed, they must be on the way there. The boy joined in the struggling procession. When the big sheep-herder arrived at the old warehouse, which was then the home of the school, every one in sight had passed him. Pulsating with the joy of his achievement, he ascended the stairs alone. Not knowing which way to go, he stopped in the first hall staring around in wonder and bewilder- ment. Three or four young girls come running up the stairs chatter- ing noisily ; when they espied Jed they looked at him hard, pursed up their lips as though to keep from laughing, and all dodged pell-mell into a door on their left — the ladies' cloak-room — and in a moment the new student distinctly heard one say — -"did you 'get on' to those high-heeled boots!" Then they all burst into hilarious snickering. Then another voice whispered, "and the flannel shirt," this being followed by another uproarious but smothered outburst of giggles. Two spots of fire began to burn in Jed's brown cheeks, his black eyes gleamed dangerously, whirling quickly, he shot down the stairs — he was on his way back to the sheep herd. Out in the little, dark, rough, wood entrance he stopped suddenly and had a brief but bitter fight with himself. The fire of ridicule tried his proud heart to the core, but the strength of his purpose turned him back. "I'm not goin' to give up my schoolin' for them little up- starts," he cried at last, with a snap of his square jaw, followed by a twinkle in his dark eyes as he added, "I'll stay and make them sorry for pokin' fun at their betters." The big herder had a saving sense of humor, and with his eye on the future he managed to smile bravely as he once more climbed the stairs. Walking quietly along the thin frame parti- tion, which divided the hall from the ladies' cloak room, he dis- covered the girls were still there. "You don't need to feel so smart," he overheard again, "if he's like some of those fellows from down south, he'll be out of the woods first thing von know, and teaching such laggards as we are. Anyway I think he's about the handsomest young man I ever saw." led was only human and this defense soothed him a good

JED'S "SCHOOLIN"' 155 deal. He threw np his head in the old way and, falling' in with a crowd of boys who had just ascended the stairs, he followed them into a large room that, plainly, occupied all of the west end of the long building. A young lad with light hair was playing a march at the little low organ in the northwest corner of the room ; and here also sat the Academy Choir. Many there may be who still remember the morning Jed walked into the Intermediate Department in his high-heeled boots, flannel shirt, and coarse, ill-fitting clothes — if anything could be ill-fitting on his splendid form. Everybody gave him a second glance, not alone because of his cow-boy attire, but more, indeed, because of the attraction in his strong, brown face, his uncommon wealth of black hair, the interest and curiosity sparkling in his alert, dark eyes, and the proud, erect carriage of head. All those entering were keeping step to the stirring music. and Jed dropped into the first vacant seat. In front of him on the rostrum sat a long row of teachers. It was evident that the noble- looking man behind a desk in the center of the platform was the head of the school. He seemed rather tall and very lean; his hair, short mustache and beard, were quite grey, the deep set magnetic eyes were gray also, and his fine, square face, in which was combined gentleness and strength, was without color. After the choir had sung twice, and a prayer had been offered, the President arose to speak. He began in a low voice A mixture of humility and dignity, the like of which Jed had never seen in any person, sat upon his broad, intelligent brow ; love, gentleness and great kindness beamed in his deep-set eyes, though presently as he warmed to his subject, there was now and then a gleam from them, which Jed recognized as the fire of purpose and power. He was speaking about keeping one's word. "If I have given my word that I will meet you at a certain hour, in the morning," he said with stirring force, striking the table with his long thin hand and speaking with a fascinating, foreign accent, "you can depend upon me. If my breakfast is not ready, I go without it. I can eat some other time, now is the only time I can keep my word." Jed made a vow to himself to be a man of his woid. He was charmed ; he loved the wonderful teacher that moment and forever "^Though the dear voice is now stilled, yet it thunders out that unimpeachable moral code in Jed's heart today; and in the hearts oaTlno doubt, who sat under the magic of his voice and teaching. After the devotional exercises were over the sheep-herder found Ws way to the tiny room partitioned ofl from the library which was the president's office heart-beats Before the quiet gaze of this great man. Jed s heart heal

156 IMPROVEMENT ERA quickened ,it seemed as if the deep-set eyes could see right through him, so when Brother Maeser— as the eminent educator always called himself — began to ask questions, the country boy thought it useless to make any reservations. "A year ago," Jed was soon telling, "I was herding sheep, never reckoned to do anything else — 'cept a little deviltry. Then a girl came down our way to teach school and somehow I began to want to know something, to get some schoolin'. I hadn't no folks, nor means, but, when the 'little teacher' said I'd made such good progress that I was ready for this here Academy, I told my- self I'd get here or die a tryin'." Brother Maeser listened attentively while Jed told, also, of his summer's work, his wages, his lone twenty-dollar gold-piece and his tramp northward. "Now I'm here I don't know what I'm goin' to do," the herder ended. "I only know I'm not goin' back till I get my schoolin'." Then the great teacher leaped from his chair, seized both of Jed's hands and wrung them fervently, a tender emotion moisten- ing his deep-set, grey eyes. "You're the kind of boy we're looking for," he assured the dazed sheep-herder, "welcome to the Brigham Young Academy." Jed was so overcome by the warmth and kindliness of this reception that the tears sprang to his eyes ; to cover this confusion, he fished the guarded twenty-dollar gold-piece (that he had saved for this moment and almost starved rather than break) from the depths of his pocket and laid it on the nearby desk. "Thank you ; then I'd like to enter now," he murmured, "if this is enough money to start me on." The beloved president picked up the money and handed it back to Jed. "Put it back in your pocket, my boy," he said in the soft gentle tones he was capable of, when his heart was touched, "put it back in your pocket. Use it for anything you need most," he admonished, looking the herder over solemnly. "You can do work here at the school for your tuition, and I think I can find you some books. You are intending to work some place for your board, I suppose?" "Yes, sir," said Jed. "Yes, yes," mused the head of the school meditatively. Reach- ing for a pen and paper he sat down and wrote two notes. "Here." he cried joyously when he had finished them, "here is a recom- mend ; and here the names of four men who keep stock and culti- vate farms. Go, find nut where they live, see if any of them need you, and report to me at two o'clock." Jed took the notes and mumbling his thanks departed. It was still earlv and he determined to use his wits and his legs for

JED'S "SCHOOLIN* " 157 all they were worth. He was not above asking directions, now. Three men were visited without success, but the fourth, when found, declared Jed was just the kind of a helper he had been wanting a long time. A bargain was soon made, and Jed was shown to a small room upstairs where he was told to bring his belongings as soon as he wished. At the word "belongings" the herder smiled a quiet smile. However, when he was invited to dinner he sobered, he was very, very hungry. Would there be time to eat? He decided there would not, for there was some- thing he wanted worse than food. He hastened away. It was 1:15 o'clock when he reached the business section of the city. Hastily reading the signs, he presently selected a big store, dis- appeared within its doors and remained there thirty minutes. When he emerged he was hardly to be recognized as the sheep- herder. He was minus his cherished twenty-dollar gold-piece, but was clothed in a new outfit — suit, shoes, hat, light shirt, collar and tie, all quite correct, according to Provo standards, in cut and color. In his arms was a bundle that he thought with a smile would serve as his "belongings." At one minute to two, Jed knocked on the President's office door. Brother Maeser admitted him. A broad smile lighted up his benign countenance, and twinkled in his kind eyes. "You are prompt, my boy," he commended. Then looking Jed over in some surprise, he patted him on the shoulder, murmur- ing in a soft, tender, fatherly voice that warmed the sheep-herder's heart, "you have done all right, my boy, you have done all right. And now tell me what you found out ?" He seemed as delighted as Jed when he learned a boarding place had been secured. "Now, we will get you started," he said in a business-like tone. Producing a slip of paper .he winked slyly as he asked Jed to promise he would never "drink tea, coffee, whisky or use to- bacco." The boy grinned as he solemnly agreed. Then the great man himself took the new student around, introduced him to the teachers, and installed him in his classes. That night, in his little room, Jed wrote a brief note to Hebe and Abe : "Dear Fellers — I made a poor tramp which got me four days late. But I'm here all right now, not in jail for vagrancy, but really started in the big school. Abe, you can keep that 'primer' to help you get ready for this Academy. The trail is not so bad you fellers must follow. Yes, I'll be here next year to meet you, and I'll be here the next, and the next. Fact is, this is just the beginning of my schoolin'. "Your old pal, Jed."