Pierre Weekly Free Press

MY BIG PUPILS.

My mother was a widow, not well off in this world's goods, and when I made up my mind that I would have an education it followed that I must be a handy laborer and wish little. But be like.

My preparation for college was thorough but very slow, but at the opening of my Sophomore year an aunt, who lived in the city in which my college was located, invited me to make her house my home. And when her husband secured for me a situation as teacher in one of the city night-schools I felt that the worst of my struggle was over, for the pay was liberal and my expenses very light.

I was slight of form and very boyish looking for my age; so when I presented myself before the school board, a fear was expressed that I might not be able to hold my own against the rough lads and young men over whom I was to exercise control.

"You'll have pupils who could take you up without effort and drop you into the snow," said one of the board.

"I don't believe they will, though," I said.

Another member of the board, with a grave shake of the head, earnestly advised me not to try to teach the roughs, at least until I was several years older.

My uncle added: "And many pounds heavier, hey?"

But I was resolute and my uncle influential, and the place was given me. I looked a little anxiously over the motley group which greeted me on entering my room in the Adams school. What a gabbering of nationalities it was! Norwegians, Swedes, Germans, French, Bohemians, Irish, Italians, even a Russian I counted among my pupils whose names and ages I entered in my registry-book. I realized fully how easily I might not only be dropped into the snow but buried completely there, for some of the big, burly fellows were almost twice my weight. Their ages varied from fifteen to twenty-five years, the majority being older than I was. I think the greater number of them, because of their age and size, looked down upon me with a sort of amused curiosity, evidently wondering what might be expected of such a little fellow.

It was only on the first few evenings that any restlessness was observed. I adopted at once the policy of weeding out relentlessly all who were not in the school for serious work. Those who did not remain quiet and were not wanted in the school, I had sufficient authority to expel.

I think that my pupils very early perceived that I was earnest in what I had undertaken; and it was touching to see in what sober earnest many of them came before me every night. There were hard-working teamsters, laboring men, office-boys, newsboys, sewing women and servant-girls. Some of them were English-speaking, and wished to learn something that might help them out of their poor lives. Some were unable to speak anything but a foreign tongue, and wished to learn English. Mature men and women knitted their brows over the simplest words, and held clumsily in their toil-hardened hands the pen used in their writing-lessons. They came with great regularity, often regretting that Saturday was a holiday. I grew, too, like many of them, and was greatly interested in the work. Their mistakes were often so comically amusing that I had hard work to maintain the gravity befitting my position.

As the holidays approached, many of the pupils were so interested in the work that a petition signed by nearly all of them was sent to the school board, asking that the sessions of the night school might be continued except on Christmas and New Year's days. I was a little disappointed when I learned that the petition had been granted, for the work was really wearisome, and I had been hoping for a few evenings to spend in some pleasanter way.

As I made my way out of the school room on the last night of the old year, I was gently detained in the crowded hall.

"Meester," asked one of my biggest pupils, "vare does you leef?"

"Vat ces your street and number?" said another.

It instantly flashed upon me that they were contemplating a call upon me, and the idea was not pleasant, for I was tired and such a visitation seemed irksome. But of course the question must be answered.

"1500 Eighth street," I replied.

"Sixteen, Thirty-eight street," he said [OCR garble].

But did not try to set him right. Perhaps it was not quite generous, but I felt a hope that they might miss me, and I be spared the threatened call.

"Happy New Year, meester!" "Happy New Year!" "Happy New Year!"

A chorus of good wishes showered upon me, and rough faces beamed with good feeling as cordial hands were held out to grasp mine.

The next morning I went to Jack, the boy servant who was to attend the door, and instructed him to say that I was engaged if any persons of the description I gave him should inquire for me.

Then I forgot them—forgot all about eyes strained in the effort to apprehend gigantic difficulties, and hands cramped with the unusual toil of writing; forgot the sounds of bad English in foreign accents, and the sight of six-footers standing up to spell c-a-t, forgot that I was not as free from such duties as any of the young men and women who called upon my aunt, and with whom I had chatted and passed compliments on that New Year's day.

But shortly after dark a very modest ring was heard. I chanced to be at the further end of the hall when the familiar, uncultivated male voice fell on my ear, and I caught sight of several of my pupils entering. They had been admitted by a girl who attended the door while the servant to whom I had spoken was at supper.

I must confess that my first feeling was one of annoyance; but I am glad to remember that with a second thought I went to meet them near the door, where they were modestly standing, declining Jane's invitation to enter the reception room.

"Happy New Year, meester!" they called.

I returned the greeting, feeling all the while sorely doubtful, since I was not in my own home, what I had better do with my unbidden guests. And then came my blessed aunt with welcoming face and hospitable voice, perceiving with quick tact my predicament, and relieving me at once.

She led them in, and they were given coffee and other refreshment. They seemed to have something upon their minds and looked inquiringly from one to another.

At last, after they had listened to some music, one of their number went into the hall and brought back a parcel which he had left there.

"Meester," he began, his big red face growing scarlet, "Happy New Year." "we most not could finds you to-night. We goes to nodde: nonebar. We breengs you, from feef-deen of us at dc school a leedle present. Ve tank you, because you vas sooch a goot teacher mid us, unt we all Ikes you to hat yust a Happy New Year. Dees ces for you."

As he finished he placed the parcel in my hands, and while I blundered my thanks my eyes told.

leave, with good-byes and with kindly glances from their honest blue eyes.

"Open it quick, Hal," said one of my cousins. "I want to see the Swedish idea of a present to a beloved schoolmaster."

The presentation had taken me greatly by surprise, which was not diminished by an examination of the gift. It was not the coarse, tawdry or ill-judged thing which one might have expected, perhaps, but a leathern desk, tasteful, complete and very well made indeed.

It would be hard to give an idea of my confusion and self-reproach in remembering the shabby little trick I had played upon them, or of how sincerely touched and affected I was at the thought of the self-denial which must have been involved in the poor fellows spending their money upon me.

My aunt and uncle were delighted—my uncle the more so, I think, because of the abundant justification which the incident seemed to convey to his recommendation of me for the place of a teacher in the night school.

My pupils have ever since been my fast friends.—Sydney Dayre in Youth's Companion.