October 26,1908
The cold front had stalled, and it was a brisk walk for the two boys on their way to school. Will got an early start, so the two could walk the bottom ground along Hog Creek, in hopes of jumpin’ a rabbit before school. Rabbit in the bean pot, and a nickle for the hide!
Will was on a mission to pay his dad back the $2.00 for the Steven’s “Crack Shot” which he carried over his shoulder. Helping Mr. Mullaney with chores, and hopefully, a whole passel of rabbit hides this winter, would remedy his debt.
How’s that? Crack shot you ask?
Well, yes, that’s what they called them! It was a falling block, single shot .22 caliber rifle. No doubt, the most popular rifle among young boys in America during that time. They were an accurate little rifle, and when it came to rabbit and squirrel, Will’s Dad had given him strict exaggerated instruction: “Shoot ’em, anywhere in the eye!”
But, there would be no rabbit this morning; and arriving at the tiny one room school, he leaned the little rifle in the corner, keeping company with two other rifles belonging to his schoolmates.
Will and Tommy joined a small group of boys and girls warming their hands by the pot belly stove. The smell of wood smoke, accompanied by the crackling of the fire, caused young Orville Brown to shuffle his feet in excitement on the board floor. Orville was always being silly, and the children chuckled as he threw his sock hat high into the air repeating words he had heard among many an old timer: “When yer’ bones are old and worn, nothin’ like a hot stove on a frosty Missouri morn’!”
The teacher, Mrs. Ingram, smiled and spoke to the class. “Alright children, take your seats. We will have prayer, then begin our history lesson.”
Their lesson was concerning the famous American geographer, and Indian agent, Henry Schoolcraft. Scanning the classroom with her inquisitive eye, Mrs. Ingram asked, “Can anyone tell me what Mr. Schoolcraft saw on the feet of many of the Indian warriors?”
Young Ruth Hensley held her hand up, and while holding her nose with the other, she exclaimed, “Skunk hides!”
The children all began to giggle, and Mrs. Ingram continued, “And why did they wear skunk hides on their feet?”
Orville clinched his fist and raising it into the air, while squinting one eye, answered, “To show their enemies that they don’t run from a fight, because skunks don’t run from anybody!”
He then relaxed and said matter of factly, “But I’d a chose bobcat myself. Ever’one knows ya’ don’t tangle with a bobcat.”
Then he perked up again, and exclaimed “Sides’, Ruth wouldn’t have to hold her nose then!”
Everyone in the class laughed, and little Ruth smiled.
A boy in the back of the class chimed in, “I would wear a badger ‘cuz a badger can whup a bobcat!”
Orville turning in his seat, responded in a long southern drawl, “Wellllll, maybe you’d like to give ‘er a try, Yank!”
The timing of young Orville’s quick-witted antics could not have been more perfect, as Mrs. Ingram quieted her young pupils with a solemn question. “But were the Indian warriors a Christian people?”
Orville countered with caution, “But Mr. Schoolcraft said they believed in a creator, The Great Father they called Him.”
Mrs. Ingram smiled, and replied, “Yes, but did they follow Jesus Christ, for the Bible says that no man can come to The Father, except through Jesus Christ, His Son.”
Mrs. Ingram reached for the Bible laying on her desk, and turning the pages to Ephesians, chapter six, she continued, “But let us read here in the Bible what Christians should wear on their feet. For the text says “And your feet shod with the preparation of the gospel of peace’.”
The room fell silent.
Will Miller had been observing the scene with a sharp eye, and turning his head, he peered out the south window of the one room school house. Images began flashing through his mind. It was Mr. Wrinkles preaching with the dead chicken tied around his neck, proclaiming: “Would anyone like to come up here and try to pick a fight with this dead chicken!’
Will visualized elderly Mr. Parmenter sitting at his table writing his departing letter by lamplight. He remembered his old friends dying words, “Every choice in daily life is either for cross, or the curse.”
Will could see Mr. Mullaney standing in the barnyard this past spring wearing his felt hat and overalls proclaiming, “Listen to the Lord laddie, He twill use nature to teach ya. Aye, He twill.”
Will was piecing this all together, for it was all making more sense now.
What was man’s nature, and was it not contrary to God? (Isaiah 55:8).
But, Will was now following The Prince of Peace, which meant taking up his cross daily, and dying to self (Luke 9:23). That word “daily” kept repeating in his mind over, and over. That was the very same word Mr. Parmenter used, “daily.”
Yes, there was a war going on inside Will Miller, and as he turned and looked across the room he saw young Robbie Roach sitting at his desk. The two had been rivals for as long as Will could remember, with hardly a moments peace.
After school, Will walked up to Robbie, and holding out his hand, he said, “I don’t want to fight anymore Robbie; I don’t want skunk feet. I want peace and to be friends.”
Robbie nodded in agreement and shook hands with Will, burying the hatchet between the two.
With a heavy burden lifted, Will shouldered the little Crack Shot, and hollered at his kid brother Tommy who was playing on the swing that hung from a limb of an old oak tree in the school yard.
“Come on PeeWee, let’s go bag a rabbit!”
Tommy yelled back, “My name’s not PeeWee!”
Will replied with a smile, “Yeah, I know, that’s what ya’ keep tellin’ me.”
“Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.”
Lord willing, until next time.
Michael Everett Jones is a Texas County native, old fashioned historian and purveyor of traditional Christian values. Email ozarksgrandpajones@gmail.com.