The Morgesons | Page 6

Morgeson?"
I heard the bell toll as I loitered along the roadside, pulling a dandelion
here and there, for it was in the month of May, and throwing it in the
rut for the next wheel to crush. When I reached the schoolhouse I saw
through the open door that the New Testament exercise was over. The
teacher, Mrs. Desire Cushman, a tall, slender woman, in a flounced
calico dress, was walking up and down the room; a class of boys and
girls stood in a zigzag line before her, swaying to and fro, and drawling
the multiplication table. She was yawning as I entered, which exercise
forbade her speaking, and I took my seat without a reprimand. The flies
were just coming; I watched their sticky legs as they feebly crawled
over my old unpainted notched desk, and crumbled my gingerbread for
them; but they seemed to have no appetite. Some of the younger
children were drowsy already, lulled by the hum of the whisperers.
Feeling very dull, I asked permission to go to the water-pail for a drink;
let the tin cup fall into the water so that the floor might be splashed;
made faces at the good scholars, and did what I could to make the time
pass agreeably. At noon mother sent my dinner, with the request that I
should stay till night, on account of my being in the way while the
household was in the crisis of soap-making and whitewashing. I was
exasperated, but I stayed. In the afternoon the minister came with two
strangers to visit the school. I went through my lessons with dignified
inaccuracy, and was commended. Going back, I happened to step on a
loose board under my seat. I determined to punish Mrs. Desire for the
undeserved praise I had just received, and pushed the board till it
clattered and made a dust. When Mrs. Desire detected me she turned
white with anger. I pushed it again, making so much noise that the
visitors turned to see the cause. She shook her head in my direction,
and I knew what was in store, as we had been at enmity a long time,
and she only waited for a decisive piece of mischief on my part. As
soon as the visitors had gone, she said in a loud voice: "Cassandra
Morgeson, take your books and go home. You shall not come here
another day."
I was glad to go, and marched home with the air of a conqueror, going

to the keeping-room where mother sat with a basket of sewing. I saw
Temperance Tinkham, the help, a maiden of thirty, laying the table for
supper.
"Don't wrinkle the tablecloth," she said crossly; "and hang up your
bonnet in the entry, where it belongs," taking it from me as she gave the
order, and going out to hang it up herself.
"I am turned out of school, mother, for pushing a board with my foot."
"Hi," said father, who was waiting for his supper; "come here," and he
whistled to me. He took me on his knee, while mother looked at me
with doubt and sorrow.
"She is almost a woman, Mary."
"Locke, do you know that I am thirty-eight?"
"And you are thirty-three, father," I exclaimed. He looked younger. I
thought him handsome; he had a frank, firm face, an abundance of light,
curly hair, and was very robust. I took off his white beaver hat, and
pushed the curls away from his forehead. He had his riding-whip in his
hand. I took that, too, and snapped it at our little dog, Kip. Father's
clothes also pleased me--a lavender-colored coat, with brass buttons,
and trousers of the same color. I mentally composed for myself a suit to
match his, and thought how well we should look calling at Lady
Teazle's house in London, only I was worried because my bonnet
seemed to be too large for me. A loud crash in the kitchen disturbed my
dream, and Temperance rushed in, dragging my sister Veronica, whose
hair was streaming with milk; she had pulled a panful over her from the
buttery shelf, while Temperance was taking up the supper. Father
laughed, but mother said:
"What have I done, to be so tormented by these terrible children?"
Her mild blue eyes blazed, as she stamped her foot and clenched her
hands. Father took his hat and left the room. Veronica sat down on the
floor, with her eyes fixed upon her, and I leaned against the wall. It was

a gust that I knew would soon blow over. Veronica knew it also. At the
right moment she cried out: "Help Verry, she is sorry."
"Do eat your supper," Temperance called out in a loud voice. "The hash
is burnt to flinders."
She remained in