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From Canal Boy to President; or, The Boyhood and Manhood of James A. Garfield, a fiction by Horatio Alger |
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Chapter 11. Ledge Hill School |
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_ CHAPTER XI. LEDGE HILL SCHOOL Ever since he began to study at Geauga Seminary James had looked forward to earning a little money by keeping school himself; not an advanced school, of course, but an ordinary school, such as was kept in the country districts in the winter. He felt no hesitation as to his competence. The qualifications required by the school committees were by no means large, and so far there was no difficulty. There was one obstacle, however: James was still a boy himself--a large boy, to be sure, but he had a youthful face, and the chances were that he would have a number of pupils older than himself. Could he keep order? Would the rough country boys submit to the authority of one like themselves, whatever might be his reputation as a scholar? This was a point to consider anxiously. However, James had pluck, and he was ready to try the experiment. He would have been glad to secure a school so far away that he could go there as a stranger, and be received as a young man. But no such opportunity offered. There was another opening nearer home. A teacher was wanted for the Ledge Hill district in Orange, and the committee-man bethought himself of James Garfield. So one day he knocked at Mrs. Garfield's door. "Is James at home?" he asked. James heard the question, and came forward to meet his visitor. "Good-morning," he said, pleasantly; "did you want to see me?" "Are you calculating to keep school this winter" asked his visitor. "If I can get a school to keep," was the reply. "That's the business I came about. We want a schoolmaster for the Ledge Hill School. How would you like to try it?" "The Ledge Hill School!" repeated James, in some dismay. "Why, all the boys know me there." "Of course they do. Then they won't need to be introduced." "Will they obey me? That's what I was thinking of. There are some pretty hard cases in that school." "That's where you are right." "I wouldn't like to try it and fail," said James, doubtfully. "You won't if you'll follow my advice," said the committee-man. "What's that?" "Thrash the first boy that gives you any trouble. Don't half do it; but give him a sound flogging, so that he will understand who's master. You're strong enough; you can do it." James extended his muscular arm with a smile. He knew he was strong. He was a large boy, and his training had been such as to develop his muscles. "You know the boys that will go to school. Is there any one that can master you?" asked his visitor. "No, I don't think there is," answered James, with a smile. "Then you'll do. Let 'em know you are not afraid of them the first day. That's the best advice I can give you." "I shouldn't like to get into a fight with a pupil," said James, slowly. "You'll have to run the risk of it unless you teach a girls' school. I guess you wouldn't have any trouble there." "Not of that kind, probably. What wages do you pay?" "Twelve dollars a month and board. Of course, you'll board round." Twelve dollars a month would not be considered very high wages now, but to James it was a consideration. He had earned as much in other ways, but he was quite anxious to try his luck as a teacher. That might be his future vocation, not teaching a district school, of course, but this would be the first round of the ladder that might lead to a college professorship. The first step is the most difficult, but it must be taken, and the Ledge Hill School, difficult as it probably would be, was to be the first step for the future President of Hiram College. All these considerations James rapidly revolved in his mind, and then he came to a decision. "When does the school commence?" he asked. "Next Monday." "I accept your offer. I'll be on hand in time." * * * * * The news quickly reached the Ledge Hill district that "Jim Garfield," as he was popularly called, was to be their next teacher. "Have you heard about the new master?" asked Tom Bassett, one of the hard cases, of a friend. "No. Who is it?" "Jim Garfield." The other whistled. "You don't mean it?" "Yes, I do." "How did you hear?" "Mr. ----," naming the committee-man, "told me." "Then it must be so. We'll have a high old time if that's so." "So we will," chuckled the other. "I'm anxious for school to begin." "He's only a boy like us." "That's so." "He knows enough for a teacher; but knowing isn't everything." "You're right. We can't be expected to mind a boy like ourselves that we've known all our lives." "Of course not." "I like Jim well enough. He's a tip-top feller; but, all the same, he aint goin' to boss me round." "Nor me, either." This conversation between Tom Bassett and Bill Stackpole (for obvious reasons I use assumed names) augured ill for the success of the young teacher. They determined to make it hot for him, and have all the fun they wanted. They thought they knew James Garfield, but they made a mistake. They knew that he was of a peaceable disposition and not fond of quarreling, and although they also knew that he was strong and athletic, they decided that he would not long be able to maintain his position. If they had been able to read the doubts and fears that agitated the mind of their future preceptor, they would have felt confirmed in their belief. The fact was, James shrank from the ordeal that awaited him. "If I were only going among strangers," he said to his mother, "I wouldn't mind it so much; but all these boys and girls have known me ever since I was a small boy and went barefoot." "Does your heart fail you, my son?" asked his mother, who sympathized with him, yet saw that it was a trial which must come. "I can't exactly say that, but I dread to begin." "We must expect to encounter difficulties and perplexities, James. None of our lives run all smoothly. Shall we conquer them or let them conquer us?" The boy's spirit was aroused. "Say no more, mother," he replied. "I will undertake the school, and if success is any way possible, I will succeed. I have been shrinking from it, but I won't shrink any longer." "That is the spirit that succeeds, James." James laughed, and in answer quoted Campbell's stirring lines with proper emphasis:
The building is still standing in which James taught his first school. It is used for quite another purpose now, being occupied as a carriage-house by the thrifty farmer who owns the ground upon which it stands. The place where the teacher's desk stood, behind which the boy stood as preceptor, is now occupied by two stalls for carriage-horses. The benches which once contained the children he taught have been removed to make room for the family carriage, and the play-ground is now a barnyard. The building sits upon a commanding eminence known as Ledge Hill, and overlooks a long valley winding between two lines of hills. This description is furnished by the same correspondent of the Boston _Herald_ to whom I am already indebted for Henry Boynton's reminiscences contained in the last chapter. When James came in sight, and slowly ascended the hill in sight of the motley crew of boys and girls who were assembled in front of the school-house on the first morning of the term, it was one of the most trying moments of his life. He knew instinctively that the boys were anticipating the fun in store for them in the inevitable conflict which awaited him, and he felt constrained and nervous. He managed, however, to pass through the crowd, wearing a pleasant smile and greeting his scholars with a bow. There was trouble coming, he was convinced, but he did not choose to betray any apprehension. _ |
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