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Updated: May 7, 2025
IN his chamber, getting ready for bed, Fairchilds's thoughts idly dwelt upon the strange contradictions he seemed to see in the character of the little Mennonite maiden. He had thought that he recognized in her a difference from the rest of this household a difference in speech, in feature, in countenance, in her whole personality.
But now, heedless of consequences, she sat down on a snow-covered log and opened Fairchilds's letter, her teeth chattering with more than cold. It was only a note, written in great haste and evidently under some excitement. It told her of his immediate departure for Cambridge to accept a rather profitable private tutorship to a rich man's son. He would write to Tillie, later, when he could.
Meantime, however, under the stimulus of his constant presence, she applied herself in every spare moment to the school-books used by her two cousins, and in this unaided work she succeeded, as usual, in making headway. Fairchilds's attention was arrested by the frequent picture of the little Mennonite maiden conning school-books by lamp-light.
At half-past seven o'clock on Saturday evening, the School Board once more convened in the hotel parlor, for the purpose of electing Fairchilds's successor. "Up till now," Mr. Getz had remarked at the supper-table, "I ain't been tole of no candidate applyin' fur William Penn, and here to-night we meet to elect him or her if she's a female."
Three days had passed since Fairchilds's departure three days of utter blackness to Tillie; and on the third day she went to pay her weekly visit to the tree-hollow in the woods where she was wont to place Miss Margaret's letters. On this day she found, to her amazement, two letters. Her knees shook as she recognized the teacher's handwriting on one of them.
The teacher, stripped of his two coats and bound hand and foot, was rolled over on his face. He uttered no word of protest, though they all saw that he had recovered consciousness. The truth was, he simply recognized the uselessness of demurring. "Warm him up, so he don't take cold!" shouted Absalom and even as he spoke, Jake Getz's heavy arm brought the lash down upon Fairchilds's back.
Do you understand?" said Fairchilds, coolly, as he let go his hold on the youth and stepped round to his side. Absalom's face turned white with fury as he realized who had dared to interfere. He opened his lips, but speech would not come to him. Clenching his fingers, he drew back his arm, but his heavy fist, coming swiftly forward, was caught easily in Fairchilds's palm and held there.
Getz irrelevantly remarked, "we didn't have no gradyate teachers like what they have now, still. But we anyhow learnt more ACCORDING." "How long does it take you to get 'em from a, b, c's to the Testament?" inquired the patriarchal Dunkard. "That depends upon the capacity of the pupil," was Mr. Fairchilds's profound reply. "Can you learn 'em 'rithmetic good?" asked Nathaniel Puntz.
Me and your mom's conceited we'd drive up to Puntz's Sunday afternoon after the dinner work's through a'ready. And if Aunty Em don't want you partic'lar, you're to come home and mind the childern, do you hear?" "Yes, sir." "Now, don't forget. Well, good-by, then." Again he bent to kiss her, and Tillie felt Fairchilds's eyes upon her, as unresponsively she submitted to the caress.
Strange to say, Fairchilds's going, instead of pleasing Mr. Getz, was only an added offense to both him and Absalom.
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