MEMORIES OF THE 



she ran her long, slim fingers down inside the back of my shirt 

 and gripped the collar as with hooks of steel. As I before said, 

 she was a very muscular young woman, and had uncommon 

 strength in her hands and wrists, which had been developed by 

 milking twelve cows night and morning in a large dairy, in 

 addition to her duties as a school-teacher. 



Her arm stiffened, and as she held me at arm's length she 

 began to lay on the whip. Every blow stung like the cut of a 

 knife, but the}^ came fast and faster. It was more than I was 

 looking for and more than my pride could stand. My manhood 

 gave way, and I commenced to blubber and dance around 

 Diantha like a young Comanche Indian in a sun-dance, but I 

 could not get away. I could go round and round, but her grip 

 on my collar kept me at just the right distance so she could play 

 the whip to good advantage. Of course, at this remote day I 

 dare not undertake to say how long this lasted. At the time I 

 thought it was by far too long. The sun was shining through 

 the west windows of the school-house across the room, and in 

 its gleams could be seen the air filled with dust and fine tow 

 which she had swingled out of my shirt and pants. 



My standing with that class as a bold, brave man was down 

 and gone forever, and I took my seat keenly sensible of my deg- 

 radation in the eyes of those whose admiration I had expected 

 to secure. I have never forgotten the list of counties, and shall 

 never forget the face of the dear teacher who so thoroughly 

 impressed them upon my memory, while at the same time she 

 taught me that it was not a good thing to be too smart. She 

 is yet living and in good health, but whenever I call upon her, 

 which I try to do as often as I can, she pretends to have a great 

 failure of memory with regard to the details of the affair related. 



I always tried to stand well with my teachers, and it is one 



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