SPELLING DOWN THE MASTER
by Edward Eggleston
"I 'low," said Mrs. Means, as she stuffed the tobacco into her cob pipe
after supper on that eventful Wednesday evening: "I 'low they'll app'int
the Squire to gin out the words to-night. They mos' always do, you see,
kase he's the peartest ole man in this deestrick; and I 'low some of
the young fellers would have to git up and dust ef they would keep up to
him. And he uses sech remarkable smart words. He speaks so polite, too.
But laws! don't I remember when he was poarer nor Job's turkey? Twenty
year ago, when he come to these 'ere diggin's, that air Squire Hawkins
was a poar Yankee school-master, that said 'pail' instid of bucket, and
that called a cow a 'caow,' and that couldn't tell to save his gizzard
what we meant by 'low and by right smart. But he's larnt our ways
now, an' he's jest as civilized as the rest of us. You would-n know he'd
ever been a Yankee. He didn't stay poar long. Not he. He jest married a
right rich girl! He! he!" And the old woman grinned at Ralph, and then
at Mirandy, and then at the rest, until Ralph shuddered. Nothing was so
frightful to him as to be fawned on by this grinning ogre, whose few
lonesome, blackish teeth seemed ready to devour him. "He didn't stay
poar, you bet a hoss!" and with this the coal was deposited on the
pipe, and the lips began to crack like parchment as each puff of smoke
escaped. "He married rich, you see," and here another significant look
at the young master, and another fond look at Mirandy, as she puffed
away reflectively. "His wife hadn't no book-larnin'. She'd been through
the spellin'-book wunst, and had got as fur as 'asperity' on it a second
time. But she couldn't read a word when she was married, and never
could. She warn't overly smart. She hadn't hardly got the sense the
law allows. But schools was skase in them air days, and, besides,
book-larnin' don't do no good to a woman. Makes her stuck up. I never
knowed but one gal in my life as had ciphered into fractions, and
she was so dog-on stuck up that she turned up her nose one night at
a apple-peelin' bekase I tuck a sheet off the bed to splice out the
tablecloth, which was ruther short. And the sheet was mos' clean too.
Had-n been slep on more'n wunst or twicet. But I was goin' fer to say
that when Squire Hawkins married Virginny Gray he got a heap o' money,
or, what's the same thing mostly, a heap o' good land. And that's
better'n book-larnin', says I. Ef a gal had gone clean through all
eddication, and got to the rule of three itself, that would-n buy a
feather-bed. Squire Hawkins jest put eddication agin the gal's farm,
and traded even, an' ef ary one of 'em got swindled, I never heerd
And here she looked at Ralph in triumph, her hard face splintering into
the hideous semblance of a smile. And Mirandy cast a blushing, gushing,
all-imploring, and all-confiding look on the young master.
"I say, ole woman," broke in old Jack, "I say, wot is all this 'ere
spoutin' about the Square fer?" and old Jack, having bit off an ounce
of "pigtail," returned the plug to his pocket.
As for Ralph, he fell into a sort of terror. He had a guilty feeling
that this speech of the old lady's had somehow committed him beyond
recall to Mirandy. He did not see visions of breach-of-promise suits.
But he trembled at the thought of an avenging big brother.
"Hanner, you kin come along, too, ef you're a mind, when you git the
dishes washed," said Mrs. Means to the bound girl, as she shut and
latched the back door. The Means family had built a new house in front
of the old one, as a sort of advertisement of bettered circumstances,
an eruption of shoddy feeling; but when the new building was completed,
they found themselves unable to occupy it for anything else than a
lumber room, and so, except a parlor which Mirandy had made an effort to
furnish a little (in hope of the blissful time when somebody should "set
up" with her of evenings), the new building was almost unoccupied, and
the family went in and out through the back door, which, indeed, was the
front door also, for, according to a curious custom, the "front" of the
house was placed toward the south, though the "big road" (Hoosier for
highway) ran along the northwest side, or, rather, past the northwest
corner of it.
When the old woman had spoken thus to Hannah and had latched the door,
she muttered, "That gal don't never show no gratitude fer favors;" to
which Bud rejoined that he didn't think she had no great sight to be
pertickler thankful fer. To which Mrs. Means made no reply, thinking it
best, perhaps, not to wake up her dutiful son on so interesting a theme
as her treatment of Hannah. Ralph felt glad that he was this evening to
go to another boarding place. He should not hear the rest of the
Ralph walked to the school-house with Bill. They were friends again. For
when Hank Banta's ducking and his dogged obstinacy in sitting in his wet
clothes had brought on a serious fever, Ralph had called together the
big boys, and had said: "We must take care of one another, boys. Who
will volunteer to take turns sitting up with Henry?" He put his own name
down, and all the rest followed.
"William Means and myself will sit up to-night," said Ralph. And poor
Bill had been from that moment the teacher's friend. He was chosen to
be Ralph's companion. He was Puppy Means no longer! Hank could not be
conquered by kindness, and the teacher was made to feel the bitterness
of his resentment long after. But Bill Means was for the time entirely
placated, and he and Ralph went to spelling-school together.
Every family furnished a candle. There were yellow dips and white dips,
burning, smoking, and flaring. There was laughing, and talking, and
giggling, and simpering, and ogling, and flirting, and courting. What
a full-dress party is to Fifth Avenue, a spelling-school is to Hoopole
County. It is an occasion which is metaphorically inscribed with this
legend: "Choose your partners." Spelling is only a blind in Hoopole
County, as is dancing on Fifth Avenue. But as there are some in society
who love dancing for its own sake, so in Flat Creek district there were
those who loved spelling for its own sake, and who, smelling the battle
from afar, had come to try their skill in this tournament, hoping to
freshen the laurels they had won in their school days.
"I 'low," said Mr. Means, speaking as the principal school trustee, "I
'low our friend the Square is jest the man to boss this 'ere consarn
to-night. Ef nobody objects, I'll app'int him. Come, Square, don't be
bashful. Walk up to the trough, fodder or no fodder, as the man said
to his donkey."
There was a general giggle at this, and many of the young swains took
occasion to nudge the girls alongside them, ostensibly for the purpose
of making them see the joke, but really for the pure pleasure of
nudging. The Greeks figured Cupid as naked, probably because he wears
so many disguises that they could not select a costume for him.
The Squire came to the front. Ralph made an inventory of the
agglomeration which bore the name of Squire Hawkins, as follows:
1. A swallow-tail coat of indefinite age, worn only on state occasions,
when its owner was called to figure in his public capacity. Either the
Squire had grown too large or the coat too small.
2. A pair of black gloves, the most phenomenal, abnormal and unexpected
apparition conceivable in Flat Creek district, where the preachers wore
no coats in the summer, and where a black glove was never seen except
on the hands of the Squire.
3. A wig of that dirty, waxen color so common to wigs. This one showed
a continual inclination to slip off the owner's smooth, bald pate, and
the Squire had frequently to adjust it. As his hair had been red, the
wig did not accord with his face, and the hair ungrayed was doubly
discordant with a countenance shriveled by age.
4. A semicircular row of whiskers hedging the edge of the jaw and chin.
These were dyed a frightful dead-black, such a color as belonged to
no natural hair or beard that ever existed. At the roots there was a
quarter of an inch of white, giving the whiskers the appearance of
having been stuck on.
5. A pair of spectacles "with tortoise-shell rim." Wont to slip off.
6. A glass eye, purchased of a peddler, and differing in color from
its natural mate, perpetually getting out of focus by turning in or
7. A set of false teeth, badly fitted, and given to bobbing up and
8. The Squire proper, to whom these patches were loosely attached.
It is an old story that a boy wrote home to his father begging him to
come West, because "mighty mean men get into office out here." But Ralph
concluded that some Yankees had taught school in Hoopole County who
would not have held a high place in the educational institutions of
Massachusetts. Hawkins had some New England idioms, but they were well
overlaid by a Western pronunciation.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he began, shoving up his spectacles, and sucking
his lips over his white teeth to keep them in place, "ladies and
gentlemen, young men and maidens, raley I'm obleeged to Mr. Means fer
this honor," and the Squire took both hands and turned the top of his
head round half an inch. Then he adjusted his spectacles. Whether he was
obliged to Mr. Means for the honor of being compared to a donkey was not
clear. "I feel in the inmost compartments of my animal spirits a most
happifying sense of the success and futility of all my endeavors to
sarve the people of Flat Creek deestrick, and the people of Tomkins
township, in my weak way and manner." This burst of eloquence was
delivered with a constrained air and an apparent sense of a danger that
he, Squire Hawkins, might fall to pieces in his weak way and manner,
and of the success and futility of all attempts at reconstruction. For
by this time the ghastly pupil of the left eye, which was black, was
looking away round to the left, while the little blue one on the right
twinkled cheerfully toward the front. The front teeth would drop down so
that the Squire's mouth was kept nearly closed, and his words whistled
"I feel as if I could be grandiloquent on this interesting occasion,"
twisting his scalp round, "but raley I must forego any such exertions.
It is spelling you want. Spelling is the corner-stone, the grand,
underlying subterfuge, of a good eddication. I put the spellin'-book
prepared by the great Daniel Webster alongside the Bible. I do,
raley. I think I may put it ahead of the Bible. Fer if it wurn't fer
spellin'-books and sich occasions as these, where would the Bible be?
I should like to know. The man who got up, who compounded this work
of inextricable valoo was a benufactor to the whole human race or any
other." Here the spectacles fell off. The Squire replaced them in some
confusion, gave the top of his head another twist, and felt of his glass
eye, while poor Shocky stared in wonder, and Betsey Short rolled from
side to side in the effort to suppress her giggle. Mrs. Means and the
other old ladies looked the applause they could not speak.
"I app'int Larkin Lanham and Jeems Buchanan fer captings," said the
Squire. And the two young men thus named took a stick and tossed it from
hand to hand to decide which should have the "first choice." One tossed
the stick to the other, who held it fast just where he happened to catch
it. Then the first placed his hand above the second, and so the hands
were alternately changed to the top. The one who held the stick last
without room for the other to take hold had gained the lot. This was
tried three times. As Larkin held the stick twice out of three times,
he had the choice. He hesitated a moment. Everybody looked toward tall
Jim Phillips. But Larkin was fond of a venture on unknown seas, and so
he said, "I take the master," while a buzz of surprise ran round the
room, and the captain of the other side, as if afraid his opponent
would withdraw the choice, retorted quickly, and with a little smack of
exultation and defiance in his voice, "And I take Jeems Phillips."
And soon all present, except a few of the old folks, found themselves
ranged in opposing hosts, the poor spellers lagging in, with what grace
they could, at the foot of the two divisions. The Squire opened his
spelling-book and began to give out the words to the two captains, who
stood up and spelled against each other. It was not long until Larkin
spelled "really" with one l, and had to sit down in confusion, while a
murmur of satisfaction ran through the ranks of the opposing forces. His
own side bit their lips. The slender figure of the young teacher took
the place of the fallen leader, and the excitement made the house very
quiet. Ralph dreaded the loss of prestige he would suffer if he should
be easily spelled down. And at the moment of rising he saw in the
darkest corner the figure of a well-dressed young man sitting in the
shadow. Why should his evil genius haunt him? But by a strong effort he
turned his attention away from Dr. Small, and listened carefully to the
words which the Squire did not pronounce very distinctly, spelling them
with extreme deliberation. This gave him an air of hesitation which
disappointed those on his own side. They wanted him to spell with a
dashing assurance. But he did not begin a word until he had mentally
felt his way through it. After ten minutes of spelling hard words Jeems
Buchanan, the captain on the other side, spelled "atrocious" with an s
instead of a c, and subsided, his first choice, Jeems Phillips, coming
up against the teacher. This brought the excitement to fever-heat. For
though Ralph was chosen first, it was entirely on trust, and most of the
company were disappointed. The champion who now stood up against the
school-master was a famous speller.
Jim Phillips was a tall, lank, stoop-shouldered fellow who had never
distinguished himself in any other pursuit than spelling. Except in
this one art of spelling he was of no account. He could not catch well
or bat well in ball. He could not throw well enough to make his mark
in that famous Western game of bull-pen. He did not succeed well in any
study but that of Webster's Elementary. But in that he was--to use the
usual Flat Creek locution--in that he was "a hoss." This genius for
spelling is in some people a sixth sense, a matter of intuition. Some
spellers are born, and not made, and their facility reminds one of
the mathematical prodigies that crop out every now and then to bewilder
the world. Bud Means, foreseeing that Ralph would be pitted against Jim
Phillips, had warned his friend that Jim could "spell like thunder and
lightning," and that it "took a powerful smart speller" to beat him, for
he knew "a heap of spelling-book." To have "spelled down the master" is
next thing to having whipped the biggest bully in Hoopole County, and
Jim had "spelled down" the last three masters. He divided the
hero-worship of the district with Bud Means.
For half an hour the Squire gave out hard words. What a blessed
thing our crooked orthography is! Without it there could be no
spelling-schools. As Ralph discovered his opponent's metal he became
more and more cautious. He was now satisfied that Jim would eventually
beat him. The fellow evidently knew more about the spelling-book than
old Noah Webster himself. As he stood there, with his dull face and
long, sharp nose, his hands behind his back, and his voice spelling
infallibly, it seemed to Hartsook that his superiority must lie in his
nose. Ralph's cautiousness answered a double purpose; it enabled him to
tread surely, and it was mistaken by Jim for weakness. Phillips was now
confident that he should carry off the scalp of the fourth school-master
before the evening was over. He spelled eagerly, confidently,
brilliantly. Stoop-shouldered as he was, he began to straighten up. In
the minds of all the company the odds were in his favor. He saw this,
and became ambitious to distinguish himself by spelling without giving
the matter any thought.
Ralph always believed that he would have been speedily defeated by
Phillips had it not been for two thoughts which braced him. The sinister
shadow of young Dr. Small sitting in the dark corner by the water-bucket
nerved him. A victory over Phillips was a defeat to one who wished only
ill to the young school-master. The other thought that kept his pluck
alive was the recollection of Bull. He approached a word as Bull
approached the raccoon. He did not take hold until he was sure of his
game. When he took hold, it was with a quiet assurance of success. As
Ralph spelled in this dogged way for half an hour the hardest words
the Squire could find, the excitement steadily rose in all parts of the
house, and Ralph's friends even ventured to whisper that "maybe Jim
had cotched his match, after all!"
But Phillips never doubted of his success.
"Theodolite," said the Squire.
"T-h-e, the, o-d, od, theod, o, theodo, l-y-t-e, theodolite," spelled
"Next," said the Squire, nearly losing his teeth in his excitement.
Ralph spelled the word slowly and correctly, and the conquered champion
sat down in confusion. The excitement was so great for some minutes that
the spelling was suspended. Everybody in the house had shown sympathy
with one or the other of the combatants, except the silent shadow in
the corner. It had not moved during the contest, and did not show any
interest now in the result.
"Gewhilliky crickets! Thunder and lightning! Licked him all to smash!"
said Bud, rubbing his hands on his knees. "That beats my time all
And Betsey Short giggled until her tuck-comb fell out, though she was
not on the defeated side.
Shocky got up and danced with pleasure.
But one suffocating look from the aqueous eyes of Mirandy destroyed
the last spark of Ralph's pleasure in his triumph, and sent that
awful below-zero feeling all through him.
"He's powerful smart, is the master," said old Jack to Mr. Pete Jones.
"He'll beat the whole kit and tuck of 'em afore he's through. I know'd
he was smart. That's the reason I tuck him," proceeded Mr. Means.
"Yaas, but he don't lick enough. Not nigh," answered Pete Jones. "No
lickin', no larnin'," says I.
It was now not so hard. The other spellers on the opposite side went
down quickly under the hard words which the Squire gave out. The master
had mowed down all but a few, his opponents had given up the battle,
and all had lost their keen interest in a contest to which there could
be but one conclusion, for there were only the poor spellers left. But
Ralph Hartsook ran against a stump where he was least expecting it.
It was the Squire's custom, when one of the smaller scholars or poorer
spellers rose to spell against the master, to give out eight or ten
easy words, that they might have some breathing-spell before being
slaughtered, and then to give a poser or two which soon settled them.
He let them run a little, as a cat does a doomed mouse. There was
now but one person left on the opposite side, and, as she rose in her
blue calico dress, Ralph recognized Hannah, the bound girl at old Jack
Means's. She had not attended school in the district, and had never
spelled in spelling-school before, and was chosen last as an uncertain
quantity. The Squire began with easy words of two syllables, from that
page of Webster, so well known to all who ever thumbed it, as "baker,"
from the word that stands at the top of the page. She spelled these
words in an absent and uninterested manner. As everybody knew that she
would have to go down as soon as this preliminary skirmishing was over,
everybody began to get ready to go home, and already there was the buzz
of preparation. Young men were timidly asking girls if "they could see
them safe home," which was the approved formula, and were trembling in
mortal fear of "the mitten." Presently the Squire, thinking it time to
close the contest, pulled his scalp forward, adjusted his glass eye,
which had been examining his nose long enough, and turned over the
leaves of the book to the great words at the place known to spellers
as "incomprehensibility," and began to give out those "words of eight
syllables with the accent on the sixth." Listless scholars now turned
round, and ceased to whisper, in order to be in at the master's final
triumph. But to their surprise "ole Miss Meanses' white nigger," as some
of them called her in allusion to her slavish life, spelled these great
words with as perfect ease as the master. Still not doubting the result,
the Squire turned from place to place and selected all the hard words
he could find. The school became utterly quiet, the excitement was too
great for the ordinary buzz. Would "Meanses' Hanner" beat the master?
beat the master that had laid out Jim Phillips? Everybody's sympathy was
now turned to Hannah. Ralph noticed that even Shocky had deserted him,
and that his face grew brilliant every time Hannah spelled a word. In
fact, Ralph deserted himself. As he saw the fine, timid face of the
girl so long oppressed flush and shine with interest; as he looked
at the rather low but broad and intelligent brow and the fresh, white
complexion and saw the rich, womanly nature coming to the surface under
the influence of applause and sympathy--he did not want to beat. If he
had not felt that a victory given would insult her, he would have missed
intentionally. The bulldog, the stern, relentless setting of the will,
had gone, he knew not whither. And there had come in its place, as he
looked in that face, a something which he did not understand. You did
not, gentle reader, the first time it came to you.
The Squire was puzzled. He had given out all the hard words in the
book. He again pulled the top of his head forward. Then he wiped his
spectacles and put them on. Then out of the depths of his pocket he
fished up a list of words just coming into use in those days--words not
in the spelling-book. He regarded the paper attentively with his blue
right eye. His black left eye meanwhile fixed itself in such a stare
on Mirandy Means that she shuddered and hid her eyes in her red silk
"Daguerreotype," sniffed the Squire. It was Ralph's turn.
And Hannah spelled it right.
Such a buzz followed that Betsey Short's giggle could not be heard,
but Shocky shouted: "Hanner beat! my Hanner spelled down the master!"
And Ralph went over and congratulated her.
And Dr. Small sat perfectly still in the corner.
And then the Squire called them to order, and said: "As our friend
Hanner Thomson is the only one left on her side, she will have to spell
against nearly all on t'other side. I shall therefore take the liberty
of procrastinating the completion of this interesting and exacting
contest until to-morrow evening. I hope our friend Hanner may again
carry off the cypress crown of glory. There is nothing better for us
than healthful and kindly simulation."
Dr. Small, who knew the road to practice, escorted Mirandy, and Bud
went home with somebody else. The others of the Means family hurried on,
while Hannah, the champion, stayed behind a minute to speak to Shocky.
Perhaps it was because Ralph saw that Hannah must go alone that he
suddenly remembered having left something which was of no consequence,
and resolved to go round by Mr. Means's and get it.
~~~~~~~ THE END ~~~~~~~