Carol Ritten Smith Read Free

alone.
    “Who started this?” she demanded.
    No one confessed.
    “I’m going to close my eyes. Whoever started this foolishness had better step forward by the time I count to three … or every single student will have to write lines. One … two … ” Before she got to three, there was a scuffle. “Three,” she said and opened her eyes. Standing before her was Freddie North, no doubt pushed front and center by his fellow classmates.
    It didn’t surprise Beth in the least he was the culprit. But today of all days, why couldn’t it have been someone else? Freddie’s father was Raymond North, the owner of North’s Bank. Beth planned to go to the bank this afternoon for a loan so Bill could buy a horse. Punishing his son would not go in her favor.
    Beth felt sick. “Did you take Penelope’s hat from her, Freddie?” Please say no.
    Freddie gave her a belligerent look. “What if I did?”
    “You should not take someone else’s property without their permission. Did you ask Penelope if you could have it?”
    “Yeah, I did.”
    “He did not! I would never let him have my bonnet!”
    Freddie turned on her. “We was just playing a little game o’ keep away. Ain’t no harm in that.”
    Beth interceded. “The harm is that Penelope’s hat is now in that tree with no way to get it down.” She knew she was committed to follow through with some form of discipline. “Fred, I want you to go into the school, and write fifty times on the chalkboard, ‘I will show restraint when tempted to do wrong.’ And be sure to use a dictionary.”
    Freddie groaned. “But — ”
    “Make that seventy-five times.” She stared him down, knowing that if he openly disobeyed, she would have no way to enforce her discipline. He wasn’t much taller than her, but he was far stronger. Her heart thudded erratically. When Freddie stomped toward the schoolhouse, she slowly released her breath. “I will show restraint when tempted to do wrong,” she hollered after him.
    The remaining boys stood, hands in pockets, looking guilty and likely thanking their lucky rabbit’s foot they hadn’t thought of grabbing Penelope’s hat first.
    This was Beth’s first major disciplinary action. She hoped the other students took note that Miss Patterson was not a teacher to push about. She was in control of what happened on the school grounds and they had better remember it!
    “Teacher, how are you going to get the hat down?”
    Beth felt her control blow away like a leaf in a tornado. What was she going to do? It was obviously too high to reach with a broom.
    “I can climb up there and get it,” an older boy volunteered.
    “No, you most certainly can not. No children are to climb this tree. That’s the rule.”
    Davy shot his hand straight into the air. “I know! You could climb it, Beth. You’re not a kid anymore. You’re all growed up. And you used to be real good at climbing tr … ” His voice petered out when Beth glared at him.
    “Oh, please, Miss Patterson,” Penelope begged in a fresh rush of tears. “Mother will be so upset if she finds out I wore it to school. Auntie sent it all the way from Toronto.”
    “Hush. Let me think.” Absurd as Davy’s suggestion may have been, Beth decided the only viable solution was to climb the tree herself. She looked over the maple’s structure. When she was younger, she’d shinnied up trees a lot trickier. “Very well, I’ll do the climbing. Everyone stand well back.”
    Immediately, the class backed up several paces. Turning to the maple, Beth lifted one leg and settled her foot firmly in a waist high crook. For once, she was thankful for the many layers of concealing petticoats dictated by fashion. She looked up, reached for a branch above her head, grabbed it, and pulled herself up. She reached for the next limb. Despite the branches snagging her bulky skirt and petticoats, Beth climbed with confidence until she reached the branch cradling the hat. Its feathers fluttered in the