How We Tried to Whip the Teacher.

Waikato Times, Volume XXII, Issue 1857, 31 May 1884, Page 6

How We Tried to Whip the Teacher.

TOLD AT THE OLD SETTLERS 1 MEETING. I wuz a boy o' seventeen, ungainly, dull an' tall, Ez green ez eny goslin', but I tho't I know'd it all. I went to school at Piano. I chopped up wood an' chored For Zephaniah Wilkinson to pay him fur my ; board. One day Ehiletua Phinney, another boy in: Softool, About ez rough an' raw ez I — about ez big a fool— Jist hinted, in a private way, 'twould be a right smart featur' \ An' giv' us lots o' glory, if we'd up an' lick . the teacher. i We wouldn't ask no better fun than jist to make him climb, ! We'd hey a long vacation an' a wlwppcr o' a ! time. The teacher he wuz Bickly — he wuz not ez big ez I — I knew that we could bounce him if we didn't : half but try, Fur eny one on lookin' at him would a said on sight Ther' wuzn't eny sand in him an' not a speck o' fight. Hia hands they want accustomed much to hangin' on to ploughs, To hoin' corn, to cradlin' wheat, or milkin' I twenty cows. Philetus said he'd use him for a mop to mop . the floor, An' when he begged an' hollered that we'd hist him out the door. We told the boys at recess o' the plot that we had planned ; ThBy said if we couldn't down him they'd lend a helpin' hand ; But big Philetus Phinny, he wua tickled ez could be To think we tho't a snip Eke that could lick a chap like he ; 'F I'd kick the bucket over, he'cl make the teacher danee — Hep flop him in the water, and hied mop it with his pants. We heard the school-belL ringin', we scrambled in pell-mell ; I run agin' the water-pail, oa puppus, an' I fell ; I struck upon a stick o' wood, I badly raked my shin, The water swoahed upon mo, and it wet me to the skin. That scrawny little teaoher, why 1 he bounded from his chair, He took me by the trowe's an he ield me in the ar', Then round an' round an' round an' round he whirled me like a top, An' when I seed a thousand stars he sudden let me drop ; He took me an' he shook me till I Iho't that I should die, He swished me with his ruler till my pants were nearly dry, I While big Philetus Phinney he trass just too scar'd to laugh, He let the teacher thrash me feill I bellered like a calf. An' all the other fightin' boys, with white an 1 frightened looks, ■ Sot shakin' in the'r very boota an' ras'lin' with the'r books ; An'O 1 how hard they studied— not a feller spoke or stirred-r-

They didn't dar to whisper or to say a single word. Whar' is that little teacher that giv' me such a scar' ? He still is peaked lookin' — he's setting ever thar'— An' tho he's nearly serenty, an' sickly yit, I vow I'd hate to hey him git those handa o' his'n on me now ; He taught me <*ne great lesson by that floggin' in his school : That a braggart an' a bully ar' a coward an' a fool.

— Eugene J. Hall, in Away Out West.