IV
Different Opinions
One evening at sunset, Jane Andrews, Gilbert Blythe, and Anne Shirleywere lingering by a fence in the shadow of gently swaying spruce boughs,where a wood cut known as the Birch Path joined the main road. Jane hadbeen up to spend the afternoon with Anne, who walked part of the wayhome with her; at the fence they met Gilbert, and all three were nowtalking about the fateful morrow; for that morrow was the first ofSeptember and the schools would open. Jane would go to Newbridge andGilbert to White Sands.
"You both have the advantage of me," sighed Anne. "You're going to teachchildren who don't know you, but I have to teach my own old schoolmates,and Mrs. Lynde says she's afraid they won't respect me as they woulda stranger unless I'm very cross from the first. But I don't believe ateacher should be cross. Oh, it seems to me such a responsibility!"
"I guess we'll get on all right," said Jane comfortably. Jane was nottroubled by any aspirations to be an influence for good. She meant toearn her salary fairly, please the trustees, and get her name on theSchool Inspector's roll of honor. Further ambitions Jane had none. "Themain thing will be to keep order and a teacher has to be a little crossto do that. If my pupils won't do as I tell them I shall punish them."
"How?"
"Give them a good whipping, of course."
"Oh, Jane, you wouldn't," cried Anne, shocked. "Jane, you COULDN'T!"
"Indeed, I could and would, if they deserved it," said Jane decidedly.
"I could NEVER whip a child," said Anne with equal decision. "I don'tbelieve in it AT ALL. Miss Stacy never whipped any of us and she hadperfect order; and Mr. Phillips was always whipping and he had no orderat all. No, if I can't get along without whipping I shall not try toteach school. There are better ways of managing. I shall try to win mypupils' affections and then they will WANT to do what I tell them."
"But suppose they don't?" said practical Jane.
"I wouldn't whip them anyhow. I'm sure it wouldn't do any good. Oh,don't whip your pupils, Jane dear, no matter what they do."
"What do you think about it, Gilbert?" demanded Jane. "Don't you thinkthere are some children who really need a whipping now and then?"
"Don't you think it's a cruel, barbarous thing to whip a child . . . ANYchild?" exclaimed Anne, her face flushing with earnestness.
"Well," said Gilbert slowly, torn between his real convictions and hiswish to measure up to Anne's ideal, "there's something to be said onboth sides. I don't believe in whipping children MUCH. I think, as yousay, Anne, that there are better ways of managing as a rule, and thatcorporal punishment should be a last resort. But on the other hand,as Jane says, I believe there is an occasional child who can't beinfluenced in any other way and who, in short, needs a whipping andwould be improved by it. Corporal punishment as a last resort is to bemy rule."
Gilbert, having tried to please both sides, succeeded, as is usual andeminently right, in pleasing neither. Jane tossed her head.
"I'll whip my pupils when they're naughty. It's the shortest and easiestway of convincing them."
Anne gave Gilbert a disappointed glance.
"I shall never whip a child," she repeated firmly. "I feel sure it isn'teither right or necessary."
"Suppose a boy sauced you back when you told him to do something?" saidJane.
"I'd keep him in after school and talk kindly and firmly to him," saidAnne. "There is some good in every person if you can find it. It isa teacher's duty to find and develop it. That is what our SchoolManagement professor at Queen's told us, you know. Do you suppose youcould find any good in a child by whipping him? It's far more importantto influence the children aright than it is even to teach them the threeR's, Professor Rennie says."
"But the Inspector examines them in the three R's, mind you, and hewon't give you a good report if they don't come up to his standard,"protested Jane.
"I'd rather have my pupils love me and look back to me in after years asa real helper than be on the roll of honor," asserted Anne decidedly.
"Wouldn't you punish children at all, when they misbehaved?" askedGilbert.
"Oh, yes, I suppose I shall have to, although I know I'll hate to do it.But you can keep them in at recess or stand them on the floor or givethem lines to write."
"I suppose you won't punish the girls by making them sit with the boys?"said Jane slyly.
Gilbert and Anne looked at each other and smiled rather foolishly. Onceupon a time, Anne had been made to sit with Gilbert for punishment andsad and bitter had been the consequences thereof.
"Well, time will tell which is the best way," said Jane philosophicallyas they parted.
Anne went back to Green Gables by way of Birch Path, shadowy, rustling,fern-scented, through Violet Vale and past Willowmere, where dark andlight kissed each other under the firs, and down through Lover's Lane. . . spots she and Diana had so named long ago. She walked slowly,enjoying the sweetness of wood and field and the starry summer twilight,and thinking soberly about the new duties she was to take up on themorrow. When she reached the yard at Green Gables Mrs. Lynde's loud,decided tones floated out through the open kitchen window.
"Mrs. Lynde has come up to give me good advice about tomorrow," thoughtAnne with a grimace, "but I don't believe I'll go in. Her advice ismuch like pepper, I think . . . excellent in small quantities but ratherscorching in her doses. I'll run over and have a chat with Mr. Harrisoninstead."
This was not the first time Anne had run over and chatted with Mr.Harrison since the notable affair of the Jersey cow. She had beenthere several evenings and Mr. Harrison and she were very good friends,although there were times and seasons when Anne found the outspokennesson which he prided himself rather trying. Ginger still continued toregard her with suspicion, and never failed to greet her sarcasticallyas "redheaded snippet." Mr. Harrison had tried vainly to break himof the habit by jumping excitedly up whenever he saw Anne coming andexclaiming,
"Bless my soul, here's that pretty little girl again," or somethingequally flattering. But Ginger saw through the scheme and scorned it.Anne was never to know how many compliments Mr. Harrison paid her behindher back. He certainly never paid her any to her face.
"Well, I suppose you've been back in the woods laying in a supply ofswitches for tomorrow?" was his greeting as Anne came up the verandasteps.
"No, indeed," said Anne indignantly. She was an excellent target forteasing because she always took things so seriously. "I shall never havea switch in my school, Mr. Harrison. Of course, I shall have to have apointer, but I shall use it for pointing ONLY."
"So you mean to strap them instead? Well, I don't know but you're right.A switch stings more at the time but the strap smarts longer, that's afact."
"I shall not use anything of the sort. I'm not going to whip my pupils."
"Bless my soul," exclaimed Mr. Harrison in genuine astonishment, "how doyou lay out to keep order then?"
"I shall govern by affection, Mr. Harrison."
"It won't do," said Mr. Harrison, "won't do at all, Anne. 'Spare therod and spoil the child.' When I went to school the master whipped meregular every day because he said if I wasn't in mischief just then Iwas plotting it."
"Methods have changed since your schooldays, Mr. Harrison."
"But human nature hasn't. Mark my words, you'll never manage the youngfry unless you keep a rod in pickle for them. The thing is impossible."
"Well, I'm going to try my way first," said Anne, who had a fairlystrong will of her own and was apt to cling very tenaciously to hertheories.
"You're pretty stubborn, I reckon," was Mr. Harrison's way of puttingit. "Well, well, we'll see. Someday when you get riled up . . . and peoplewith hair like yours are desperate apt to get riled . . . you'll forgetall your pretty little notions and give some of them a whaling. You'retoo young to be teaching anyhow . . . far too young and childish."
Altogether, Anne went to bed that night in a rather pessimistic mood.She slept poorly and was so pale and tragic at breakfast next morn
ingthat Marilla was alarmed and insisted on making her take a cup ofscorching ginger tea. Anne sipped it patiently, although she could notimagine what good ginger tea would do. Had it been some magic brew,potent to confer age and experience, Anne would have swallowed a quartof it without flinching.
"Marilla, what if I fail!"
"You'll hardly fail completely in one day and there's plenty more dayscoming," said Marilla. "The trouble with you, Anne, is that you'llexpect to teach those children everything and reform all their faultsright off, and if you can't you'll think you've failed."