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FAIRLY BEATEN.

We were sitting about the fire in the hotel, says a writer in the Detroit Free Press, when the story teller, referring to a yarn published in a cum nt paper as to the rough usage of a man who " spelled down " a western school, said :—: —

" Tnat reminds me of a story." At this, of course, every one urged him to tell his tale, and he said :—: — It was away back in the early seventies. I was then travelling for a Boston school book concern and one night I brought up in a flourishing little town in Eastern Tennessee. I had never bocn there before, but I soon made friends with the landlord of the hotel, and when I asked him as to possible means of amusement for the evening, he said : " Well, stranger, I can't say as there's much going on, but you might go to the spellin' school." It seemed that there was a spelling match to be decided in the town, and I, full of foolish confidence in my own ability, attended and submitted to the process of "choosine sides." It never occurred to me that there could possibly be any feeling between sides or between individuals as to the result.

The building in which the contest occurred was a tumble-down frame and log structure, the lines of which outside suggested an eminent (danger of collapse and within which a great fire in the stack chimney at the end cast the only light upon the bare benches save that which was given from the two candles burning upon the desk of the schoolmaster, which was mounted upon a low and rough rostrum.

When I reached the building it was reasonably well filled. Great strapping youths in jeans and homespun, offset girls — many of them very pretty — in homespun and calico. The only man in the building, myself excepted, who wore a white shirt and " store clothes " was the lanky schoolmaster, six feet and a couple of inches tall at least and graceful as a ten moaths 1 old calf. Mind, I never knew how serious a matter '• spelling down " is, and when they asked me to go in I simply went in, sure that there could be no danger that any of the rustic crowd could spell me down. The work began and boys and girls, right and left, sat down on words of three syllables. Soon there were only twenty of the original forty contestants ; then only fifteen ; then only ten ; at last only five. The words grew harder and harder. I saw obvious signs of discontent. The girls did not like to be spelled down or the boys to have the girls defeated. The words grew still harder. One, two, three of the five spellers fell by the wayside and at last only two of us stood — the prettiest girl in all the house and I. At last the schoolmaster called out to me " hippopotamus." It was as easy as falling from a log until I felt a hot breath at my ear and a voice hissed : " Spell it with one ' p,' mister, 'nless you wanter get licked. That bar's my girl ; spell her down if you dare." I spelled it with one " p " and sat down.

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Permanent link to this item

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/periodicals/NZT18900516.2.23

Bibliographic details

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XVIII, Issue 3, 16 May 1890, Page 15

Word Count
544

FAIRLY BEATEN. New Zealand Tablet, Volume XVIII, Issue 3, 16 May 1890, Page 15

FAIRLY BEATEN. New Zealand Tablet, Volume XVIII, Issue 3, 16 May 1890, Page 15

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