Chapter Sixteen

T wo additional families sent their children to school the next week. While Evangeline felt this was a success, she also found herself faced with a predicament. These new students had yet to learn their letters, while the rest of the class had passed that portion of their education and were, at varying speeds, learning their letter sounds. How could she teach her new students when her existing students still needed so much guidance?

After struggling with the dilemma for a few days, she was struck with an idea she hoped would prove the right solution.

One morning, she approached Susannah Crossley before school began. “May I speak with you?”

The girl nodded and stepped inside the entryway with Evangeline. She watched, wary and curious.

“We have several new students,” Evangeline began. “They are behind all of the other children and need help learning what you have already been taught. Knowing that you have been helping your sister learn what she has missed at school, I wondered if perhaps you would be willing to take part of your day at school to help teach the new students so that I can continue working with those who need my help.”

Susannah, who generally maintained a calm and serene exterior, grew eager and excited. “Tha aren’t hoodwinking me, are thee?”

“I am entirely in earnest.”

A cloud of uncertainty touched Susannah’s expression. “I don’t know how to be a teacher.”

Oh, how tempted Evangeline was to admit that she didn’t either, but she dared not risk her students’ confidence in her.

“I would not have asked you if I did not think you fully capable,” she assured Susannah. “Now, do not worry that this will interfere with your own learning. I have seen how quickly you grasp new concepts and how readily your mind opens to new information. I believe you can learn all you need to even with a bit less time devoted to your own schooling. Should this arrangement cause you difficulties, though, we will revisit it and make whatever changes are necessary.”

A smile as full of relief as it was of excitement appeared on her usually weary face. “I think I’d like to be a teacher.”

“Here is your opportunity to discover whether or not you will truly enjoy it, whether or not you have an aptitude for it.” This experiment would also prove whether or not Evangeline had stumbled upon the solution to her problem or simply added more difficulty to what she was attempting to accomplish.

“May I ask a favor of thee?” Susannah asked, nervous.

“Of course.”

“Would tha tell us mother an’ father? They’ll never believe it if I tell them missen, but they’ll be right chuffed to have t’ teacher come braggin’ of it.”

Evangeline had grown accustomed to a number of the Yorkshire peculiarities in speech. Mr. McCormick had explained the utterly perplexing “missen” and “thissen” as the local version of “myself” and “thyself.” Evangeline had not yet heard the word “chuffed” and hadn’t the first idea what it meant. However, if Susannah, who had so eagerly agreed to help her, wished for her parents to be chuffed and if that chuffing required that the teacher deliver the news, then she would gladly do precisely that.

“I will tell your mother when she comes to pick you up this afternoon.”

Susanna shook her head before Evangeline even finished the offer. “Mother isn’t coming to fetch we today. Johanna is still sickly, and she doesn’t wish to leave her, but Father’s out tending t’ flock on account of there being illness among t’ sheep.”

“Who will be walking you and your brothers home?” As far as Evangeline knew, the Crossley children had never made that walk on their own.

“I’ve been given t’ task. Thomas dare not leave his job early.”

While Susannah was capable of guiding her siblings home, Evangeline felt a twinge of nervousness on the girl’s behalf. She had been given additional responsibilities by her family and her teacher on the same day. It was a lot to ask all at once of someone so young.

“I will walk home with you and your brothers,” Evangeline said. “Then I can meet Johanna and tell your parents of your news. I will need to bring Ronan McCormick with me, as he always remains at school until supper time.”

Susannah shrugged. “Us parents know Ronan. They’ll not be bothered by him.”

The morning went relatively smoothly. Susannah copied Evangeline’s methods of teaching letters to the newest arrivals. Whether or not that was the best approach, she could not say, but it was all any of them had known.

Hugo, though still difficult at times, was possibly her brightest student after Susannah. He had reached the point where he was ready to begin piecing together words. While the other students quizzed one another on the various letters and letter combinations and the sounds they made, Evangeline attempted to help him.

“Nee-vur.” He had made multiple attempts to sound out the word and was getting steadily closer.

“What other sound does the letter E make?” she offered by way of a hint.

He thought a moment, then tried the word again. “Neh-vur.”

“Precisely. The word is ‘never.’”

“It can’t be,” he insisted. “T’ letter E don’t make that sound.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Can’t be the word ‘nivver.’ I remember all t’ sounds for letter E , and that i’n’t one of ’em.”

Oh, heavens. She hadn’t thought of that. The sounds she was teaching them to associate with each letter and letter combination did not necessarily match the way they spoke. All the Yorkshiremen she’d met, be they men, women, or children, pronounced the word “never” as “nivver.” It was hardly the only word they pronounced differently than how it was spelled.

Beyond that, there were some words that would simply be wrong for them. What happened when she attempted to teach them the word “you”? They all used “thee” and “thou,” though they pronounced the latter as “tha,” which would only add to the confusion. She couldn’t simply teach them the Yorkshire equivalent because they spoke it in such a different way from how it was written that the proper spelling would make no sense.

She attempted an explanation. “The word is spelled to match the way it is pronounced elsewhere. Indeed, you will find that to be generally true. The written language more precisely matches the language as it is spoken elsewhere.”

Hugo eyed her with disgusted disbelief. “Then this reading is more for them what lives elsewhere. It weren’t meant for us in t’ north.”

“It most certainly is meant for you.”

His gaze narrowed in an unmistakable challenge. “How does t’ language spell ‘tha’?”

Sometimes the boy was too clever for his own good—certainly for her own good. “It is pronounced ‘thou’ elsewhere, and it is spelled T-H-O-U . However, outside of Yorkshire, the word used is ‘you,’ and when doing your reading, that is the word you will see most often.”

He shook his head. “Seems those what live elsewhere think themselves above us, making t’ words match their speaking and giving nowt of us words.”

Nowt of us words. How on earth was she to teach these children to read when they nearly spoke a different language? She took a moment to decipher his meaning, frustrated that she still had to translate in her mind so often.

Nowt of us words. Nowt was “nothing.” Us was likely being used as “our.” “Giving nothing of our words” was the exact phrase, but probably not precisely what he meant. He was saying those outside Yorkshire who didn’t write the way Yorkshiremen spoke either didn’t include any of their words or didn’t care about their manner of speaking. Regardless of the precise translation, she understood the gist. Further, she understood the implications for her as a teacher. She was, in many respects, attempting to teach these children to read a foreign language.

She refused to give up on her students, but she feared they would give up on themselves.

“There is some truth in your criticism, Hugo. But this is worth learning to do.” She spoke firmly but quickly, not wishing to give him the opportunity to declare himself finished with the endeavor. “If you will be patient and keep working, I promise you I will try to find a way for what you read to match the way you speak.”

He didn’t look convinced, but he did look curious. A quick perusal of the room told her that nearly all of her students were listening as well. The others would encounter Hugo’s same difficulty as they progressed in their studies. This was her opportunity to give them reason to keep trying.

“Can tha find books written t’ way we speak?” Susannah asked. She likely had already begun to realize the discrepancy in what she was seeing and hearing.

“I do not know.” Evangeline felt honesty was her best approach. “But I will try.”

The look on her students’ faces told her this was no small promise. She smiled at each of them in turn, then repeated in tones of confidence and sincerity, “I pledge my word: I will try.”