Then Mr. Corse went to the window and tapped on it. The big boys clattered into the entry, jeering and loudly laughing. They burst the door open with a big noise and swaggered in. Big Bill Ritchie was their leader. He was almost as big as Almanzo’s father; his fists were as big as Almanzo’s father’s fists. He stamped the snow from his feet and noisily tramped to a back seat. The four other boys made all the noise they could, too.
Mr. Corse did not say anything.
No whispering was permitted in
school, and no fidgeting. Everyone must be perfectly still and keep his eyes fixed on his lesson. Almanzo and Miles held up their primers and tried not to swing their legs. Their legs grew so tired that they ached, dangling from the edge of the seat. Sometimes one leg would kick suddenly, before Almanzo could stop it. Then he tried to pretend that nothing happened, but he could feel Mr. Corse looking at him.
In the back seats the big boys whispered and scuffled and slammed their books. Mr. Corse said sternly:
“A little less disturbance, please.”
For a minute they were quiet, then they began again. They wanted Mr. Corse to try to punish them. When he did, all five of them would jump on him.
At last the primer class was called, and Almanzo could slide off the seat and walk with Miles to the teacher’s desk. Mr. Corse took Almanzo’s primer and gave them words to spell.
When Royal had been in the primer class, he had often come home at night with his hand stiff and swollen. The teacher had beaten the palm with a ruler because Royal did not know his lesson. Then Father said:
“If the teacher has to thrash you again, Royal, I’ll give you a thrashing you’ll remember.”
But Mr. Corse never beat a little boy’s hand with his ruler. When Almanzo could not spell a word, Mr. Corse said:
“Stay in at recess and learn it.”
At recess the girls were let out first. They put on their hoods and cloaks and quietly went outdoors. After fifteen minutes, Mr. Corse rapped on the window and they came in, hung their wraps in the entry, and took their books again. Then the boys could go out for fifteen minutes.
They rushed out shouting into the cold. The first out began snowballing the others. All that had sleds scrambled up Hardscrabble Hill; they flung themselves, stomach-down, on the sleds and swooped down the long, steep slope. They upset into the snow; they ran and wrestled and threw snowballs and washed one another’s faces with snow, and all the time they yelled as loud as they could.
When Almanzo had to stay in his seat at recess, he was ashamed because he was kept in with the girls.
At noontime everyone was allowed to move about the schoolroom and talk quietly. Eliza Jane opened the dinner-pail on her desk. It held bread-and-butter and sausage, doughnuts and apples, and four delicious apple-turnovers, their plump crusts filled with melting slices of apple and spicy brown juice.
After Almanzo had eaten every crumb of his turnover and licked his fingers, he took a drink of water from the pail with a dipper in it, on a bench in the corner. Then he put on his cap and coat and mittens and went out to play.
The sun was shining almost overhead. All the snow was a dazzle of sparkles, and the woodhaulers were coming down Hardscrabble Hill. High on the bobsleds piled with logs, the men cracked their whips and shouted to their horses, and the horses shook jingles from their string of bells.
All the boys ran shouting to fasten their sleds to the bobsleds’ runners, and boys who had not brought their sleds climbed up and rode on the loads of wood.
They went merrily past the schoolhouse and down the road. Snowballs were flying thick. Up on the loads the boys wrestled, pushing each other off into the deep drifts. Almanzo and Miles rode shouting on Miles’ sled.
It did not seem a minute since they left the schoolhouse. But it took much longer to go back. First they walked, then they trotted, then they ran, panting. They were afraid they’d be late. Then they knew they were late. Mr. Corse would whip them all.
The schoolhouse stood silent. They did not want to go in, but they had to. They stole in quietly. Mr. Corse sat at his desk and all the girls were in their places, pretending to study. On the boys’ side of the room, every seat was empty.
Almanzo crept to his seat in the dreadful silence. He held up his primer and tried not to breathe so loud. Mr. Corse did not say anything.
Bill Ritchie and the other big boys didn’t care. They made all the noise they could, going to their seats. Mr. Corse waited until they were quiet. Then he said:
“I will overlook your tardiness this one time. But do not let it happen again.”
Everybody knew the big boys would be tardy again. Mr. Corse could not punish them because they could thrash him, and that was what they meant to do.
Chapter 2
Winter Evening
The air was still as ice and the twigs were snapping in the cold. A gray light came from the snow, but shadows were gathering in the woods. It was dusk when Almanzo trudged up the last long slope to the farmhouse.
He hurried behind Royal, who hurried behind Mr. Corse. Alice walked fast behind Eliza Jane in the other sled-track. They kept their mouths covered from the cold and did not say anything.