His mind was on other things. When he had spent a week over the alphabet,
he did know a letter as such, but only by the places on the page they were on,
and gave up when "big A" was shown him on another page, only asking
how in the dickens "big A" got over there. He pulled off his coat silently
whenever ordered and took his whippings like a lamb, without a murmur
and almost without flinching, but every boy in the school learned
that it was dangerous to laugh at him; and though he could not learn
to read fluently or to train his fingers to guide a pen, he could climb
the tallest pine in the district to get a young crow for Vashti,
and could fashion all sorts of curious whistles, snares,
and other contrivances with his long fingers.
He did not court popularity, was rather cold and unapproachable,
and Vashti Mills was about the only other scholar with whom
he seemed to be on warm terms. Many a time when the tall boy stood up
before the thin teacher, helpless and dumb over some question
which almost anyone in the school could answer, the little girl,
twisting her fingers in an ecstacy of anxiety, whispered to him the answer
in the face of almost certain detection and of absolutely certain punishment.
In return, he worshipped the ground she walked on, and whichever side
Vashti was on, Darby was sure to be on it too.
Pages:
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167