The Emperor of Portugallia. Lagerlöf Selma

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      The teacher patted the little girl on the head. The people all smiled, but at the same time they were touched.

      Glory Goldie sat looking down, not knowing what she should do with herself; but Jan of Ruffluck felt as happy as a king, for it had suddenly become clear to him that the little girl had been his the whole time.

      THE CONTEST

      It was strange about the little girl of Ruffluck and her father! They seemed to be so entirely of one mind that they could read each other's thoughts.

      In Svartsjö lived another schoolmaster, who was an old soldier. He taught in an out-of-the-way corner of the parish and had no regular schoolhouse, as had the sexton; but he was greatly beloved by all children. The youngsters themselves hardly knew they went to school to him, but thought they came together just to play.

      The two schoolmasters were the best of friends. But sometimes the younger teacher would try to persuade the older one to keep abreast of the times, and wanted him to go in for phonetics and other innovations. The old soldier generally regarded such things with mild tolerance. Once, however, he lost his temper.

      "Just because you've got a schoolhouse you think you know it all, Blackie!" he let fly. "But I'll have you understand that my children know quite as much us yours, even if they do have only farmhouses to sit in."

      "Yes, I know," returned the sexton, "and have never said anything to the contrary. I simply mean that if the children could learn a thing with less effort – "

      "Well, what then?" bristled the old soldier.

      The sexton knew from the old man's tone that he had offended him, and tried to smooth over the breach.

      "Anyhow you make it so easy for your pupils that they never complain about their lessons."

      "Maybe I make it too easy for them?" snapped the old man. "Maybe I don't teach them anything?" he shouted, striking the table with his hand.

      "What on earth has come over you, Tyberg?" said the sexton. "You seem to resent everything I say."

      "Well, you always come at me with so many allusions!"

      Just then other people happened in, and soon all was smooth between the schoolmasters; when they parted company they were as good friends as ever. But when old man Tyberg was on his way home, the sexton's remarks kept cropping up in his mind, and now he was even angrier than before.

      "Why should that strippling say I could teach the children more if I kept abreast of the times?" he muttered to himself. "He probably thinks I'm too old, though he doesn't say it in plain words." Tyberg could not get over his exasperation, and as soon as he reached home he told it all to his wife.

      "Why should you mind the sexton's chatter?" said the wife. "'Youth is elastic, but age is solid,' as the saying goes. You're excellent teachers both of you."

      "Little good your saying it!" he grunted. "Others will think what they like just the same."

      The old man went about for days looking so glum that he quite distressed his wife.

      "Can't you show them they are in the wrong?" she finally suggested.

      "How show them? What do you mean?"

      "I mean that if you know your pupils to be just as clever as the sexton's – "

      "Of course they are!" he struck in.

      " – then you must see that your pupils and his get together for a test examination."

      The old man pretended not to be interested in her proposition, but all the same it caught his fancy. And some days later the sexton received a letter from him wherein he proposed that the children of both schools be allowed to test their respective merits.

      The sexton was not averse to this, of course, only he wanted to have the contest held some time during the Christmas holidays, so that it could be made a festive occasion for the children.

      "That was a happy conceit," thought he. "Now I shan't have to review any lessons this term."

      Nor was it necessary. It was positively amazing the amount of reading and studying that went on just then in the two schools!

      The contest was held the evening of the day after Christmas. The schoolroom had been decorated for the occasion with spruce trees, on which shone all the church candles left over from the Christmas Matins, and there were apples enough to give every child two apiece. It was whispered about that the parents and guardians who had come to listen to the children would be served with coffee and cakes. The chief attraction, however, was the big contest.

      On one side of the room sat the soldier's pupils, on the other the sexton's. And now it was for the children to defend their teachers' reputations. Schoolmaster Tyberg had to examine the sexton's pupils, and the sexton the Tyberg pupils. Any questions that could not be answered by the one school were to be taken up by the other. Each question had to be duly recorded so that the judges would be able to decide which school was the better.

      The sexton opened the contest. He proceeded rather cautiously at first, but when he found that he had a lot of clever children to deal with he went at them harder and harder. The Tyberg pupils were so well grounded they did not let a single quizz get by them.

      Then came old man Tyberg's turn at questioning the sexton's pupils.

      The soldier was no longer angry with the sexton. Now that his children had shown that they knew their bits, the demon of mischief flew into him. At the start he put a few straight questions to the sexton's pupils, but being unable to remain serious for long at a time he soon became as waggish as he usually was at his own school.

      "Of course I know that you have read a deal more than have we who come from the backwoods," said he. "You have studied natural science and much else, still I wonder if any of you can tell me what the stones in Motala Stream are?"

      Not one of the sexton's pupils raised a hand, but on the other side hand after hand shot up.

      Yet, in the sexton's division sat Olof Oleson – he who knew he had the best head in the parish, and Där Nol, of good old peasant stock. But they could not answer. There was Karin Svens, the sprightly lass of a soldier's daughter, who had not missed a day at school. She, with the others, wondered why the sexton had not told them what there was remarkable about the stones in Motala Stream.

      Schoolmaster Tyberg stood looking very grave while Schoolmaster

      Blackie sat gazing at the floor, much perturbed.

      "I don't see but that we'll have to let this question go to the opposition," said the soldier-teacher. "Fancy, so many bright boys and girls not being able to answer an easy question like that!"

      At the last moment Glory Goldie turned and looked back at her father, as was her habit when not knowing what else to do.

      Jan was too far away to whisper the answer to her; but the instant the child caught her father's eye she knew what she must say. Then, in her eagerness, she not only raised her hand, but stood up.

      Her schoolmates all turned to her, expectantly, and the sexton looked pleased because the question would not be taken away from his children.

      "They are wet!" shouted Glory Goldie without waiting for the question to be put to her, for the time was up.

      The СКАЧАТЬ