school ground. She had tried to keep them busy and apart, hoping to prevent fisticuffs. She’d failed.
Now she went to the front of the classroom and faced her students. “I didn’t think I needed to tell any of you that fighting on school grounds will not be tolerated.”
“Are you going to paddle them?” a first grader asked in breathless alarm.
“The idea that I would have to paddle any one of my students is repugnant. I expect my students to show self-control in every situation. No matter what the provocation, fighting is no way to settle an argument. Gunther and Clayton will stand the rest of the day, facing the wall in shame.”
The same first grader gasped. Some of the children gaped at her.
“If any more fights take place, I will have to inform the school board and they will mete out corporal punishment. I am a lady.”
She added the last as her justification and she saw that her instincts had proven true. The other children nodded in total agreement. Miss Thurston was a lady, and ladies didn’t paddle students.
Dear Lord, please don’t make it necessary for me to talk to anybody about this.
* * *
Later, Ellen rose from the table at the end of another evening meal at the Ashfords, who had finally agreed to let her pay them for providing her meals. Ellen could cook over a woodstove but could only make tea or coffee on the hearth in her quarters.
Though the meal had been delicious, the pleasure had done little to raise her spirits. The lady of the house gazed at her questioningly and then glanced toward Amanda, who was clearing the table. Mrs. Ashford had apparently picked up on Ellen’s preoccupation and Amanda’s forlorn mood during the meal.
“I hope everything is all right at school,” the lady of house said with a question in her voice.
Ellen decided that everyone would soon know what had happened so she might as well be frank. “I’m afraid that two boys came to blows during recess this afternoon.” The fight had ended in a nosebleed for Clayton and a black eye for Gunther.
“It wasn’t Gunther’s fault,” Amanda declared from the doorway to the kitchen. “That Clayton boy was making fun of how he talks and calling him names all day. Gunther ignored it till the Clayton boy started saying nasty things about Gunther’s uncle and little Johann.”
Both Mrs. Ashford and Ellen turned to the girl, stunned. Amanda had never shown such spirit before. Yet Ellen wished Amanda had kept her peace.
“I’m afraid I can’t allow fighting between students,” Ellen said patiently. “Even if there is provocation. I must maintain order.”
“Quite right,” Mrs. Ashford agreed. Unfortunately, she added, “I knew that Dutch boy would make trouble.”
“It wasn’t Gunther’s fault!” Amanda stomped her foot.
“That will be enough sauce from you, miss.” Mrs. Ashford’s face reddened. “Now get busy washing the dishes before I wash your impertinent mouth out with soap.”
On this unhappy note, Ellen said her thanks and descended the steps into the deep honey of twilight. Since she’d moved into her quarters, a large room behind the schoolroom, she’d dreaded the lonely evenings, which gave her too much time to fret, which she began as soon as she touched ground.
What should she do about Gunther Lang? Why didn’t his older brother realize the situation he’d put Gunther in? Her mind drifted back to home and brought up her sister exchanging vows with Holton. How long did heartbreak linger?
When she walked through the trees into the schoolyard, she was surprised to glimpse Kurt Lang, sitting dejectedly on the school step, clearly waiting for her as his horse grazed nearby. Of all people, he was the one she felt least ready to face—she had no doubt he’d come to discuss the fight.
“Mr. Lang,” she said.
He jumped up and swept off his hat. “Miss Thurston, I am sorry I am come so late. But I know Gunther had a fight. Please, I ask—do not put him out of school.”
Ellen
Now she went to the front of the classroom and faced her students. “I didn’t think I needed to tell any of you that fighting on school grounds will not be tolerated.”
“Are you going to paddle them?” a first grader asked in breathless alarm.
“The idea that I would have to paddle any one of my students is repugnant. I expect my students to show self-control in every situation. No matter what the provocation, fighting is no way to settle an argument. Gunther and Clayton will stand the rest of the day, facing the wall in shame.”
The same first grader gasped. Some of the children gaped at her.
“If any more fights take place, I will have to inform the school board and they will mete out corporal punishment. I am a lady.”
She added the last as her justification and she saw that her instincts had proven true. The other children nodded in total agreement. Miss Thurston was a lady, and ladies didn’t paddle students.
Dear Lord, please don’t make it necessary for me to talk to anybody about this.
* * *
Later, Ellen rose from the table at the end of another evening meal at the Ashfords, who had finally agreed to let her pay them for providing her meals. Ellen could cook over a woodstove but could only make tea or coffee on the hearth in her quarters.
Though the meal had been delicious, the pleasure had done little to raise her spirits. The lady of the house gazed at her questioningly and then glanced toward Amanda, who was clearing the table. Mrs. Ashford had apparently picked up on Ellen’s preoccupation and Amanda’s forlorn mood during the meal.
“I hope everything is all right at school,” the lady of house said with a question in her voice.
Ellen decided that everyone would soon know what had happened so she might as well be frank. “I’m afraid that two boys came to blows during recess this afternoon.” The fight had ended in a nosebleed for Clayton and a black eye for Gunther.
“It wasn’t Gunther’s fault,” Amanda declared from the doorway to the kitchen. “That Clayton boy was making fun of how he talks and calling him names all day. Gunther ignored it till the Clayton boy started saying nasty things about Gunther’s uncle and little Johann.”
Both Mrs. Ashford and Ellen turned to the girl, stunned. Amanda had never shown such spirit before. Yet Ellen wished Amanda had kept her peace.
“I’m afraid I can’t allow fighting between students,” Ellen said patiently. “Even if there is provocation. I must maintain order.”
“Quite right,” Mrs. Ashford agreed. Unfortunately, she added, “I knew that Dutch boy would make trouble.”
“It wasn’t Gunther’s fault!” Amanda stomped her foot.
“That will be enough sauce from you, miss.” Mrs. Ashford’s face reddened. “Now get busy washing the dishes before I wash your impertinent mouth out with soap.”
On this unhappy note, Ellen said her thanks and descended the steps into the deep honey of twilight. Since she’d moved into her quarters, a large room behind the schoolroom, she’d dreaded the lonely evenings, which gave her too much time to fret, which she began as soon as she touched ground.
What should she do about Gunther Lang? Why didn’t his older brother realize the situation he’d put Gunther in? Her mind drifted back to home and brought up her sister exchanging vows with Holton. How long did heartbreak linger?
When she walked through the trees into the schoolyard, she was surprised to glimpse Kurt Lang, sitting dejectedly on the school step, clearly waiting for her as his horse grazed nearby. Of all people, he was the one she felt least ready to face—she had no doubt he’d come to discuss the fight.
“Mr. Lang,” she said.
He jumped up and swept off his hat. “Miss Thurston, I am sorry I am come so late. But I know Gunther had a fight. Please, I ask—do not put him out of school.”
Ellen
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