The Angel of the Gila: A Tale of Arizona

by Cora Marsland

  CHAPTER VIII

  THE COW LASSES

  It was clear that the character of the work for the Gila girls shoulddiffer from that for the men. Esther Bright had thought it all out,but she resolved to let the girls themselves determine, in largemeasure, what it should be. So they came to visit the school thatbright December day to observe.

  School! Could this be school? Not school as they recalled it, hours ofdull monotonous tasks, where punishment, merited or unmerited, stoodout in conspicuous boldness. As they now listened, every moment seemedto open the door to knowledge, and a wonderland of surprising interestspread before them. The dull drone of the old-time reading lesson hadgiven place to conversational tones. The children were reading aloudfrom a bright, vivacious story that caught and held the attention ofthese untutored girls. To learn to read like the teacher became theproud ambition of these seven visitors.

  With a simple lesson in physics the interest deepened. Then came thelesson in manual training. The deft fingers of the boys and girls werebusy learning the mysteries of tailoring. How to darn a rent in clothis no easy thing for untrained fingers to learn. Little fingers, bigfingers, busily plied the needle. The boys were learning how to repairtheir clothing. The teacher passed from one to another, helping,encouraging, commending. She held up a beautiful piece of work for thevisitors to see.

  When the school was dismissed for the noon hour, they gathered aroundEsther.

  "My!" said one, "I wisht I knowed as much as you do, schoolma'am."

  "Do you?" asked the teacher, as if to know as much as she did were theeasiest thing in the world.

  "You bet I do!" answered the girl.

  "Schoolma'am," asked Jessie Roth, "do ye s'pose ye could learn us taeread as good as them kids did this mornin'?"

  "Oh, yes. Even better."

  "Better nor them?"

  "Indeed, yes, if you will study as hard as they do. One's progressdepends upon one's interest and one's application."

  "Oh, we'll study all right," said Kate Keith, "if you'll give us thechance."

  "You bet we will!" said another.

  Then Esther told them the history of the Gila Club for men, how it hadbegun, how she had taught the men, how the class had grown until ithad seemed imperative to meet in the schoolhouse, and how theyorganized as a club.

  "Did _you_ learn all them men yourself?" asked a girl just in from therange. She was a veritable Amazon.

  "Yes," was the answer, "until we began to meet in the schoolhouse.Then I had help."

  Esther stood looking into this raw girl's face as though she saw therethe loveliest being on earth. What the teacher really saw there was anawakening mind and soul.

  The girl, rough and uncouth as she was, admired the teacher, andlonged to be like her.

  "What can we dae?" asked Jessie Roth, eager to perfect plans forstudy.

  "That is just what I wish you girls to decide. What would you like todo?"

  In response to the teacher's question, all of them spoke at once.

  "One at a time, please, one at a time," Esther said. "Suppose, wecommence with Jessie. What do you wish to do, Jessie?"

  "Oh, I'd like tae dae cipherin' an' readin' an' writin'. I wisht Icould read like you, schoolma'am!"

  "Could she ever?" questioned Kate Keith, a young English girl.

  "Certainly." She showed such belief in them and what they might dothat their enthusiasm rose still higher. Then Kate said impulsively:

  "I wisht ye'd learn us to sew. I've been wishin' to know how."

  She held up her big, coarse hands, looked at them a moment, andlaughed as she said:

  "I don't know as I could handle such a little thing as a needle."

  "You wish to learn to sew? I am so glad."

  This was just the turn Esther had been hoping would come. "Everywoman," she continued, "ought to know how to sew. I like to sew,myself. What next?"

  A comely maid spoke. "My name's Mandy Young. Me an' Marthy thoughtwe'd like ter learn ter write letters an'--"

  Here she blushed furiously.

  "That's good," said the teacher. "What else?"

  "Me an' Marthy wanted ter learn ter sing like you do, schoolma'am."

  "Now, Martha, it is your turn," said the teacher with an encouragingsmile.

  Martha was a great, brawny specimen of humankind. "My name's MissLieben," she said.

  "Lieben! Lieben! That's a good name. It means _love_." The cowlassblushed and snickered. "And Martha's a good name too. There was once avery careful housekeeper named Martha."

  "Oh, I ain't no housekeeper," responded the girl, "but I want ter be.I want ter learn readin' an' writin', an' cookin', too."

  "Cooking! Well! Next?" said Esther, looking into the face of the nextgirl.

  "My name's Mary Burns."

  Mary had a more modest way. "I hardly know what I dae want. I think yecould plan for us better nor we could plan for oursels. An' we'd a' begratefu'."

  "Sure," said one.

  "That's right," added another. They all nodded their heads inapproval. Then up spoke Bridget Flinn:

  "Shure, an' she's on the right thrack. When we can do housework, wecan command a high wage, an' git on. My cousin gits five dollars aweek in New York, an' she says she has mere nothin' ter do, an'dthresses as good as her misthress. Oi'd loike ter learn ter writeletthers, so as ter wroite ter Pat, an' Oi'd loike ter learnhousekapin', so's I could go out ter sarvice."

  Then a pretty Mexican girl, with a soft voice, spoke:

  "Martha Castello is my name. I want to learn to read an' write an'sing."

  The teacher stepped to the blackboard, and wrote the following:

  Reading Arithmetic Sewing Writing Singing Housekeeping

  The girls watched her intently.

  "An' letthers," suggested Bridget.

  "To be sure--letters," said Esther, writing the word.

  Then followed the organization of the girls' club, resulting in theelection of Jessie Roth as president. It was agreed that for thepresent the girls should enter school, and occasionally meet with theteacher outside of school hours.

  That day proved a red-letter day for them. They had come in touch withan inspiring personality, and their education had begun.

  Years have come and gone since that day; but the people of Gila stilltell how a young girl, the sweetest soul that ever lived, came anddwelt among them, and brought God into their lives. Even the roughestold men will pause, and say with reverence:

  "The Angel of the Gila! God bless her!"

  The afternoon session of the school passed quickly. Then followed abit of kindly talk with the seven new pupils. Then Esther Brightwalked homeward. She was overtaken by Brigham Murphy and Wathemah.Something mysterious seemed in the air.

  "Miss Bright," blurted out Brigham, "Maw says as will yer come homewith us ter-morrer, ter visit. We're goin' ter have chicken an' lotso' good things ter eat, ain't we, Wathemah? An' he's comin', too,ain't yer, Wathemah?"

  The Indian child gave an affirmative grunt, and trudged along close tohis teacher. It was a way he had of doing since she had promised to behis mother.

  "Will yer come?" eagerly questioned the representative of the Mormonhousehold.

  "I shall be happy to if you will show me the way."

  "Oh, we'll 'scort yer!" And Brigham turned several somersaults, andran like a deer along the road leading to the Murphy ranch.

  Such a flutter of excitement as the prospective visit brought to theMurphy household!

  "Maw," said Brigham in the midst of his mother's volley of directionson household arrangements, "Ain't yer goin' ter ask schoolma'am terstay all night?" He seemed suddenly interested in social amenities.

  "Of course I be! Landy! Don't yer s'pose y'r maw's got no p'liteness?I told schoolma'am 'bout my 'lations as lives on Lexity Street, YorkCity, an' keeps a confectony, an' she'll 'spect yer ter be jest asp'lite an' 'ristercratic as they be. I'll sleep on the floor, an' Katean' Kathleen an' Wathemah kin sleep with schoolma'a
m. She'll think ita great come-down, Pat Murphy, fur one as is a 'lation, so ter speak,of Miz Common of Lexity Street, York City, she'll think it's a greatcome-down, I say, fur one with sech folks ter live in a common adobe.Y'r not ter let on y're Irish, but speak as though yer was Frenchlike."

  She had given emphasis to her remarks with more and more energeticmovements of her arm, as she washed off the furniture. At last shepaused, and her husband ventured a reply.

  "Begorra! An' would yez be afther changin' me mouth to the Frinchstoile?"

  He sidled toward the door, and grinned as he caught the reflection ofhimself in the dirty piece of mirror that still remained in the oldblack frame on the wall.

  There was no denying the fact that Patrick bore unmistakable evidenceof his Irish origin. He realized that he had ventured his remarks asfar as was consistent with peace and safety; so he walked from thehouse, chuckling to himself as he went, "Relations on LexingtonStreet! Frinch stoile! Begorra!" And he laughed outright.

  "Patrick Murphy," his spouse called after him. "This is the first timea friend o' my 'lations in York City (so ter speak) has visited me.Patrick Murphy, what _do_ yer s'pose Josiah Common done when my sistervisited there? He took her ter a theatre an' after that he took herter a resternt, an' treated her. That's what he done! The least yercan do is ter scrub up, comb yer har an' put on a clean shirtter-morrer. Yer ter clean up, do yer hear?" All this in a high treble.

  "Frinch stoile?" inquired Patrick, with a broadening grin. But thiswas lost upon Mrs. Murphy, engrossed in plans for the reception of thecoming guest. She smoothed down her hair with both hands.

  "Here, Mandy," she called abruptly, "wash out the tablecloth. Sam, youclean the winders. Jo, you run over to Miz Brown's an' say as y'rMaw's goin' ter have comp'ny ter-morrer as must have knowed her'lations as lived on Lexity Street, York City, an' kep' a confectony.Tell her y'r Maw wants a dozen eggs ter make a cake an' custard. Jake,oh, Jake!" she called in stentorian tones, "you go ketch them twosettin' hens! The only way yer kin break up a settin' hen when yerdon't want her ter set is jest to make potpie o' her. Y're goin' terhave a supper that yer'll remember ter y'r dyin' day. We uster havesech suppers at barn raisin's back East."

  The small boys smacked their lips in anticipation. The mother turnedsuddenly.

  "My landy!" she said. "I forgot somethin'."

  "What?" inquired Amanda.

  "A napting!"

  "A napting? What's that?"

  But Mrs. Murphy had begun on the floor, and was scrubbing sovigorously she did not hear the question.

  When order finally evolved from chaos, Mrs. Murphy, with her hairdisheveled and arms akimbo, viewed the scene. Everything was so cleanit was sleek,--sleek enough to ride down hill on and never miss snowor ice.

  "Come 'ere, childern," said Mrs. Murphy, mopping her face with acorner of her apron. "I want yer to stan' aroun' the room, the hullten o' yer, all but the baby. Mandy, do take the baby an' stop hercryin'. Joseph Smith, stan' at the head, 'cause y're the oldest.That's the way I uster stan' at the head o' the spellin' class when weuster spell down 'fore I graduated from deestrict school back in YorkState. Y'r Maw was a good speller, ef I do say it. 'Range y'rselfs inorder, 'cordin' to age."

  A tumultuous scramble followed. Maternal cuffs, freely administered,brought a semblance of order.

  "Now, childern," said the mother, in a hard shrill voice, "what is y'r'ligion? Speak up, or yer know what yer'll git!"

  "'Ligion o' the Latter Day Saints," answered Samuel.

  "An' who is the Prophet o' the Lord?" continued Mrs. Murphy.

  "Brigham Young," answered Amanda, assuming an air of conscioussuperiority.

  "No, he isn't neither," protested Brigham, "for my teacher said so.Jesus is the only prophet o' the Lord since Old Testament times."

  But the heretic was jerked from the line, to await later musculararguments. Then the mother continued her catechism.

  "Who's another prophet o' the Lord as has had relevations?"

  "Joseph Smith," responded Kate, timidly.

  "That's right. What divine truth did Joseph Smith teach?"

  "That men should marry lots o' wives," said Jake, realizing that hehad answered the most important question of the catechism.

  "Yes, childern," she said, with an air of great complacence, "I'veobeyed the prophet o' the Lord. I've had five husbands, an' I'veraised ten young uns. Now what I want yer to understan' is that yerMaw an' her childern has got all the 'ligion as they wants.Schoolma'am had better not persume to talk 'ligion to me." She drewherself up as straight as a ramrod, and her lips set firmly.

  "But I wanter show her I'm uster entertainin'. I'll give her thesilver spoon. An' I do wisht I had a napting to put at her place."

  "What's that, Maw?" asked Samuel.

  "What's what?"

  "Why, what yer want ter put at schoolma'am's plate?"

  "Oh, a little towel, like. 'Ristercratic people uses them when theyeats. They puts 'em on their laps."

  "Won't a dish towel do?"

  "Landy! No!"

  "Well, we ain't stylish, anyway," said Samuel, philosophically, "an'it's no use to worry."

  "Stylish? We're stylish when we wants to be, an' this is one o' themtimes."

  "Is it stylish ter go ter Bible school?" asked Brigham. He seemedgreatly puzzled.

  "No, sir-ee, it ain't stylish, an' you ain't goin' thar," she said,giving him a cuff on the ear by way of emphasis.

  "She? What's she know 'bout _my_ 'ligion or _y'r_ 'ligion? She ain'thad no relevations. But git off to bed, the hull lot o' yer."

  "It's only eight o'clock," said one, sullenly, dragging his feet.

  "Well, I don't care. The house is all red up, an' I wants it to stayred up till schoolma'am comes. Besides, y're all clean yerselfs now,an' yer won't have to wash an' comb to-morrer."

  At last they were driven off to bed, and gradually they quieted down,and all were asleep in the little adobe house.

  But Brigham tossed in terrifying dreams. The scene shifted. He waswith Wathemah, who was telling him of Jesus. Then the teacher's lifewas in danger and he tried to save her. He felt her hand upon hishead; a smile flitted across his face, his muscles relaxed; he was inheaven; the streets were like sunset skies. The teacher took him bythe hand and led him to the loveliest Being he had ever beheld, whogathered him in His arms, and said, "Suffer little children to comeunto Me."