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Updated: June 17, 2025
So on my way back from drivin' John t' th' Junction I stops at that there temple o' knowledge, as th' feller says, t' prepare th' mind o' Jennie Adams, what teaches there, for th' comin' of this bunch of new scholards. "Y' all know Jennie, old Hog Adams's daughter.
She taught the girls to cook, sew, wash and iron, clean house, and make baskets, and the boys to use tools, to farm, make garden, and take care of animals; and she taught them all to keep clean. Out in the hills she found good old names, English and Scotch-Irish. She found men who "made their mark" boasting of grandfathers who were "scholards."
"Why, one of you artful young scholards left a letter to his ma on his table, open for everybody to see, talking some gammon about a West Indian island, and saying you was going to lay hold of the Long Stork, to get your hands in. I can tell you you have got your hands in, my beauties. There's a cart-load of birches been ordered for you at the school already."
Humph! S'pose it is, sir. You're right. That's where you gents as is scholards gets over the like of me. I see it now; you are right, sir. What a wonderful head you've got for arguing, sewerly!" "Then you'll tell Mr Reardon in the morning?" "I didn't say as I would, sir." "No; but you will?" "No, sir, but I won't!" he said emphatically.
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