Miss Sawyer borrowed a
neighbor's horse and wagon and drove her to the schoolhouse,
interviewing the teacher, Miss Dearborn, arranging for books, and
generally starting the child on the path that was to lead to
boundless knowledge.
Rebecca walked to school after the first morning. She loved this
part of the day's programme. When the dew was not too heavy and
the weather was fair there was a short cut through the woods.
She turned off the main road, crept through Joshua Woodman's
bars, waved away Mrs. Carter's cows, trod the short grass of the
pasture, with its well-worn path running through gardens of
buttercups and whiteweed, and groves of boxberry leaves and sweet
fern. She descended a little hill, jumped from stone to stone
across a woodland brook, startling the drowsy frogs, who were
always winking and blinking in the morning sun. Then came the
"woodsy bit," with her feet pressing the slippery carpet of brown
pine needles; the woodsy bit so full of dewy morning surprises,--
fungous growths of brilliant orange and crimson springing up
around the stumps of dead trees, beautiful things born in a
single night; and now and then the miracle of a little clump of
waxen Indian pipes, seen just quickly enough to be saved from her
careless tread. Then she climbed a stile, went through a grassy
meadow, slid under another pair of bars, and came out into the
road again, having gained nearly half a mile.
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