CHAPTER V The First Day of School

  "Birds in their little nests agree.

    And why can't we?"

B-i-r-d-s, birds, i-n, in, t-h-e-i-r, their, l-i-t-t-l-e, little, n-e-s-t-s, nests, a-g-r-e-e, agree."

My feet burned in my new shoes, but most of my body was chilling as I stood beside Miss Amelia on the platform, before the whole school, and followed the point of her pencil, while, a letter at a time, I spelled aloud my first sentence.  Nothing ever had happened to me as bad as that.  I was not used to so much clothing.  It was like taking a colt from the woods pasture and putting it into harness for the first time.  That lovely September morning I followed Leon and May down the dusty road, my heart sick with dread.

May was so much smaller that I could have picked her up and carried her.  She was a gentle, loving little thing, until some one went too far, and then they got what they deserved, all at once and right away.

Many of the pupils were waiting before the church.  Leon climbed the steps, made a deep bow, waved toward the school building across the way, and what he intended to say was,"Still sits the schoolhouse by the road," but he was a little excited and the s's doubled his tongue, so that we heard: "Shill stits the schoolhouse by the road."  We just yelled and I forgot a little about myself.

When Miss Amelia came to the door and rang the bell, May must have remembered something of how her first day felt, for as we reached the steps she waited for me, took me in with her, and found me a seat.  If she had not, I'm quite sure I'd have run away and fought until they left me in freedom, as I had two years before.  All forenoon I had shivered in my seat, while classes were arranged, and the elder pupils were started on their work; then Miss Amelia called me to her on the platform and tried to find out how much schooling I had.  I was ashamed that I knew so little, but there was no sense in her making me spell after a pencil, like a baby.  I'd never seen the book she picked up.  I could read the line she pointed to, and I told her so, but she said to spell the words; so I thought she had to be obeyed, for one poetry piece I know says:

  "Quickly speed your steps to school

And there mind your teacher's rule."

 I can see Miss Amelia to-day.  Her pale face was lined deeper than ever, her drab hair was dragged back tighter.  She wore a black calico dress with white huckleberries, and a white calico apron figured in large black apples, each having a stem and two leaves.  In dress she was a fruitful person.  She had been a surprise to all of us.  Chipper as a sparrow, she had hopped, and chattered, and darted here and there, until the hour of opening.  Then in the stress of arranging classes and getting started