Charlie and Murdoch came back from their buggy ride in good spirits. The wind had put color in the cheeks of both of them. The good feeling
of well-being and contentment lasted Charlie throughout the rest of the evening, and as she went to sleep.
L
The next morning in school was particularly trying to Charlie's patience. Miss Hummle had pulled her hair back into an even tighter, more severe
looking knot that was usual. It gave her the affect of looking even more like a bird that before. Especially when she began flapping her arms around
in agitation. She even criticized Charlie's handwriting. Charlie knew that she had hurried thru it somewhat the previous evening, which was mostly because
she'd wanted to continue her special time of companionship with Murdoch. Marie had gone for the day early, having a family matter to
attend to, and Charlie and Murdoch had prepared a supper of salt pork and biscuits with three different types of jams. She'd enjoyed her time
in the kitchen with Murdoch, and then, afterward, she had rushed thru her homework so as to sketch with him.
Still, though...Charlie didn't think her handwriting deserved any criticism. At least not of the capacity that Miss Hummel was going on about it.
"I know you're capable of much better, Charlotte," Miss Hummel said. "Laziness will surely do harm to the best of educations."
Unused to being criticized at school, at least at her time at this school, Charlie felt her face grow hot. Partly in embarrassment, but also
in a burst of temper. The words 'this isn't the best of educations' sprang to her lips, but she clamped her lips shut tight.
Laziness? Charlie didn't think that she was lazy. A bit distracted the previous evening, yes, but not lazy.
"You can stay in at recess and redo these," Miss Hummel said, tapping on the offensive piece of paper.
"That's not fair," Monte burst out, from his seat just across the aisle.
"That will do, Monte," Miss Hummel said, severely. "This is none of your concern. Continue with your own work." She preceded down the
aisle, and Monte shot Charlie a look of intense fury. Even though her face was still hot with her own temper, Charlie didn't want Monte to risk saying or
doing more, and having his hand smacked with a ruler, or worse. So she shook her head at him, once, and then, again, more intensely.
She mouthed the word, 'NO' at him, and Monte subsided, looking away, his own face high with color.
Head bent over her lessons once again, Charlie felt Rebecca reach under the shared desk and squeeze her hand in sympathy.
L
There were two other students who had to stay in at recess, as well as Charlie. Monte was one of them. Charlie suspected that he'd
purposefully mucked up his arithmetic homework, saying that he hadn't finished it the evening before, when she knew that he had. Just so
that he would be inside, lending his unspoken support. While Charlie labored over her handwriting, trying to finish quickly, yet do it well, she
could hear Monte pleading misunderstanding of his arithmetic, asking Miss Hummel question after question, until the teacher's agitation was
evident in her replies.
The morning concluded, and at lunch time the children formed groups, talking and eating.
"Don't be embarrassed by havin' to stay inside," Rebecca told Charlie quietly, in defense. "Your handwriting is beautiful. All loopy and elegant."
"It's not all that good," Charlie denied. "But I don't think that it's all that bad, either."
"It's darned good," Monte spoke up. "Humbug's just bein' an old witch, as usual."
Charlie gave Monte a quick smile. Who would ever have thought that the once-detested Monte would grow to be become one of her
biggest defenders?
One of the other kids giggled at how much like a bird Miss Hummle really did resemble.
"Yeah," Tommy said, getting to his feet and walking around, flapping his arms and doing an impersonation of Miss Hummle's
high-pitched voice. "You all boys are the most ill-mannered children I've ever had the misfortune to meet!" Tommy made the word
'misfortune' sound out as 'misfor-choon'.
The kids dissolved into laughter.
"Ole Hummle the flying hawk-" Tommy said, as if in thought. "Tried to fly but couldn't-" he paused. "I can't get it right. I was tryin' to think
up a rhyme."
"Charlie, you do it," Monte encouraged. "You're good at stuff like that."
"Yeah," Tommy chimed in.
"Try, Charlie," Rebecca said.
Pleased at the attention, and encouragement, Charlie thought for a few minutes, and then said,
"Old Hummie tried to fly,
instead, though, she sank from the sky.
'Old Hummie, the raucous hawk,
tried to talk, but could only squawk.
'Old Hummie, no friends among,
lost them all, thru her barbed tongue.
'Old Hummie, sorry we met,
That's for certain, a sure bet.
Old Hummie, wish you'd go back,
Until then, SIT ON A TACK!'
More laughter rang out over the school yard, and kids began to repeat the rhyme, doubling over with silliness. Charlie was again
patted, and praised for her cleverness. The glow last thru lunch and some of the afternoon, until Tommy was put into the corner
for scraping his boots on the school room's wooden floor.
Behind the teacher's back, Tommy made comical faces, and the room filled with giggles and snickers.
At the end of the day, there was still the singing of Charlie's rhyme, as the streets filled with kids on their way home from
school.
L
The next morning was Saturday. After breakfast Scott said he needed to go to town to post some mail, and Johnny said he'd go
along. Charlie paused hopefully beside her chair, after pushing it up to the table.
"May I go?" she asked.
As Scott turned to look at her, Johnny spoke first. His blue eyes sparkled at her. "I dunno, Scott-what do ya think? Can we put up
with her all the way to town and back?"
"I suppose we can," Scott answered, his own eyes smiling at Charlie.
Charlie grinned at both of them.
The air was just right that morning on the way to town. Crisp, yet not too chilly. All three horses seemed to enjoy it as well, tossing
their heads. The conversation at first was between Scott and Johnny, as Charlie rode in the middle of them. Then the topic turned, regrettably,
to school.
"Things any better?" Johnny was asking her.
After a moment, Charlie said, "No. Not much."
"She got no control?" Johnny asked.
Charlie hesitated, considering her answer. "She does. Sort of."
"Still rappin' boys on the knuckles?"
"Not since John."
After that, Charlie was thankful that the subject of school was dropped. She didn't want to spoil her morning by thinking about something
unpleasant.
In front of the mercantile, they discounted and tied the horses. Johnny said he was going to the jail to chat with Val. Scott
would walk over to the post office, and then join Johnny.
"What about you, kiddo?" Scott asked Charlie. "Walking with me?"
"I thought I'd go in the mercantile," Charlie said.
"Ah. Alright," he said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out some coins. Sorting thru them, he counted out the correct amount.
"Here's your allowance," he said.
Charlie took the coins from him, with a dimpled smile. "Thank you."
"Not all on candy," he warned her.
"I promise," she said, still grinning.
L
It was later, after Charlie had purchased some gumdrops and some black licorice to share with Rebecca on Monday after school, she
wandered down the street to the sheriff's office.
The door was propped open with a cinder block, and Charlie was met by a welcoming Val.
"Stopped coming to visit me, huh?" he greeted her.
"Sorry," Charlie told him, and held out the bag of gumdrops in invitation.
"I'll pass on those, but I would like a visit from you now and again," he said.
"Okay," Charlie said, smiling at him.
"So-candy, huh?" Scott asked her.
"There wasn't anything else today that I wanted," Charlie told him, and then said, "I didn't spend it all."
"Well, that's good," Scott said.
"And some of it's to share with Rebecca," Charlie added. "I've been saving, too," she reminded him. "I give some to Murdoch every
single Saturday, and he saves it for me."
"I'll know who to come to for a loan then, won't I?' Val said, tugging on the braid that hung down Charlie's back.
"If you're nice to me, I'll loan you some," Charlie said, saucily.
It was later, after a checker game, when they were preparing to head back to the ranch, and Val was outside with them, lighting up
a cheroot, that several kids across the street passed along. Three boys from school. Tommy, Ben, and Chester, all singing at the top
of their voices.
'Old Hummie, the raucous hawk,
tried to talk but could only squawk-
Old Hummie, no friends among,
Lost 'em all with her barbed tongue-'
Charlie inhaled a sharp breath. "Oh, no," she said, in a whisper, nearly to herself.
"Hey there, Charlie!" Tommy yelled across the street to her.
Then, without waiting for an answer or a returned wave, the boys continued on, singing even louder.
'Old Hummie, the raccous hawk,
tried to talk but could only squawk,
Old Hummie, sorry we met
That's for certain, a sure bet,
Old Hummie, wish you'd go back,
Until then, SIT ON A TACK!'
Johnny chuckled, "Sounds like a new song."
"It does," Val said.
Charlie cringed, as the boys halted at the end of the sidewalk, and turned back, beginning to sing the
rhyme all over from the beginning.
"It doesn't sound like a good song," Scott observed, mildly.
"Old Hummie's likely to be hurt, if she sits on that tack," Johnny said, his eyes sparking with mischief.
Charlie shot Johnny a look, wondering if he knew somehow. Knew or suspected that she'd had a hand in the song, but
he was only grinning, not seeming accusing.
Charlie resolved to ask the boys, or rather tell them, to stop singing that silly song out on the streets, where anybody and
everybody could hear.
L
