Editor’s Note: This is an ongoing series which runs each Thursday morning titled the Richland Chronicles Volume 4, by author Paul Lintern. It is set in the 1830s and tells the story of Richland County through the eyes of young people. This is the fourth in a series. Volume 1 was Amelia Changes Her Tune. Volume II was Isaac and Wolf Paw Find Their Home. Volume III was Autumn Keeps Her Secret.
What if they don’t like me?
Autumn knew that was not what a teacher should be thinking as she starts the term, but this was her first attempt, and at age 16, that was a natural concern.
As she rode her horse, Chestnut, along the Amoy road toward Springmill, she wondered why she had so quickly said yes to Mr. Gamble when he asked her to teach the children around his mill on the Black Fork.
He had been talking with her father, at the Oakland Inn, lamenting that the young man who had been there had turned out to be “more interested in alcohol than alchemy” and suddenly she heard her father offering the services of his daughter to be the new school marm.
Autumn knew she had the learning, and the gumption, to teach the students, none of whom, Mr. Gamble said, were older than 10, but until they were actually together, she would have to wonder whether she had what it took.
She thought back to when she was 10 and tried to remember what was of interest to her then. Playing in the woods, swimming in Brubaker Creek, riding Chestnut. That was the summer that Amelia came to visit, a special time for that reason alone.
She wondered what Amelia would think of her new venture. She was riding sidesaddle on Chestnut — young ladies were to ride as such — but it meant a slower pace.
Then looking around, Autumn saw that she was alone, so she hitched up her dress, threw a leg over Chestnut’s back, clicked her tongue and kicked her heels into the horse’s side. Chestnut perked up and began a pace more to his liking.
I probably can get all the way to Springmill before I see anyone else, Autumn thought and considered the number of times she had ridden this way, through the farms of neighbors, many of whom she saw at the Lutheran Church she was now riding by.
She and Chestnut were happiest riding by themselves, but there were plenty of friends to ride with if she wanted. Even little Josh, her 7-year-old brother, was a fun tag-along, despite what usually was an endless stream of questions.
How will I keep their attention? Will they actually want to learn, or will they be mad they have to be there?
She knew the answer; even if they were eager to learn, no one wants to be in a log building on a beautiful day like this!
Maybe I should pray for rain about the time we all get inside, Autumn smiled.
As she neared Springmill, she returned to her ladylike sidesaddle position on Chestnut, and turned to the northwest on the path that she thought headed to Gamble’s Mill. The farmers had pushed paths and roads to Springmill from all directions, but there was not such a clear way toward Mr. Gamble’s place, since it was so new.
Charles Gamble had settled next to the Black Fork so far upstream that people almost no longer could use it for travel. He had a store next to the mill and a few cabins had been built there. Most importantly, the farmers nearby could find their way there for milling and supplies.
The school would be in the back corner of the store, until a better site could be built. With only six or eight students expected, the school could be fit in a very small spot.
Autumn noticed the path was fairly straight, since the land was rather flat, and the last three miles went very quickly, even if she was not sitting the way she was most comfortable.
A teacher had better make a good entrance and not be seen any way but upright, she thought, and so sat upright and elegantly on Chestnut, as the mill and store came into sight. Chestnut ambled up to the store and Autumn slipped off.
She took a deep breath and a look around. This was her first real job.
Better act like you know what you are doing!
