17
A Picnic, and How It Ended
As May approached, the superintendent decided to give the pupils a holiday and allow them to spend it in the woods some three miles away. Accordingly, one sunshiny May morning the light-hearted boys and girls emerged from their school home and wended their way through the beautiful grounds, over grass that was fresh and green. The sunbeams that found their way through the masses of foliage down to Mother Earth seemed dancing gleefully, as if they, too, were enjoying a holiday.
The long procession passed through the great iron gates and followed the dusty highway which led toward the cool retreat whither their feet were bound. Immediately upon reaching it, they scattered in different directions, some, in groups, going in search of the wildflowers which may be found only in the wildwoods, and others to look for the many curiosities that abound there. The search was well rewarded. Soon the scattered companies began to return to the place selected for the rendezvous, many with hands filled with beautiful but fragile flowers, ferns, acorns, and the like.
The walk through the dim forest aisles, where the tall trees lifted their heads majestically heavenward as monuments of the power and skill of their great and good Maker, and where the little wildflowers and tiny blades of green grass seemed silently speaking of his thoughtfulness and care for even the smallest and apparently most insignificant things that he has made, evidently had done them good. All were in excellent spirits.
A swing was put up, and soon some of the girls were being swayed back and forth, now ascending high into the air, now sweeping gracefully down to earth again, their smiling faces betokening their enjoyment.
Meanwhile a number of the boys, having found a suitable plot of ground, engaged in playing a game of baseball, while others watched the sport, entered into conversation, or strolled about from place to place. After a while some of the less generous boys insisted that they ought to have the use of the swing, and the girls surrendered it to them—not very willingly, however.
Toward noon some of the teachers who were in full possession of the sense of hearing and who had accompanied the pupils to the woods to enjoy with them the holiday, heard peals of thunder. Justly fearing the approach of a thunderstorm, the picnickers were hastily arranged in marching order and, led by a teacher who had grown old in the service of the deaf and dumb, they started for their stronghold—the institution. Scarcely had they left the woods and struck out into the highway before the storm burst upon them. It was opened by the flash and roar of heaven’s artillery, the loud vibrations being felt by the strongly sensitive among these silent ones. At this crisis they broke rank, left the road, scrambled over a high rail fence, and used their feet to good advantage—hurrying across the field like a flock of frightened sheep.
Carrie ran on and on, now and then looking up at the black and threatening sky as a flash of vivid lightning darted athwart the dark mass of clouds that shut out every trace of the calm blue sky which had greeted the gaze that morning. She uttered a silent prayer to God, whom she had begun to recognize as the maker and ruler of all the vast universe, and the one who alone could protect in such a time of danger.
Her breath began to grow labored from her rapid running, and her limbs were so tired that she hardly hoped to reach the school unaided. But still she was enabled to speed on and was gratified to know that every step brought her nearer to a shelter from the storm. The high picket fence that surrounded the institution was reached. A few pickets had been torn off, to afford an entrance, and through this narrow gateway the throng was passing. Carrie had, in order to protect her hat from the rain, wrapped it up in her white apron, and after she had crept through the narrow entrance she began to feel a weight upon her head. Putting up her hand to ascertain the cause of this, she found a man’s hat. She was at a loss to know how she came to be wearing this hat, but supposed it must have been put on her head by the gray-headed teacher whom she saw standing by the opening in the fence as she crept through, looking solicitous for the welfare of the unfortunate picnickers. Hailstones, like mimic bullets, began to patter down upon their defenseless heads, but the institution was almost reached. The superintendent stood in a side door with a look of anxiety upon his kindly face as the drenched and forlorn-looking figures came thronging up.
They entered this door and passed upstairs into the boys’ study room. Here Carrie took the heavy black hat—which had so unexpectedly come into her possession—from her head, and laid it upon a table. Then she followed the other girls, who were proceeding through the long halls toward their own apartments. The strength of one or two had given out on the way, but stronger ones lent them a helping hand until they had reached the institution in safety.
After the wet garments had been exchanged for dry ones, a bountiful dinner eaten, and cups of hot tea drank, all felt quite cheerful and disposed to laugh over their adventure.
In the afternoon several of the girls who had not undertaken to run across the fields in the storm, seeking shelter in a private house instead, made their appearance, dry and comfortable. Beyond the general weariness and discomfort felt, no harm resulted to anyone. God had signally illustrated his omnipotence, and at the same time shown his mercy and loving kindness.
A few days later Carrie’s father came to visit her, and of course he was given an account of the picnic. He was next shown some copies of the photograph of the institution taken with the girls grouped in the foreground, and was so pleased with it that he bought a copy. Before he left, Carrie gave him her hat to take home to the milliner, to be remodeled and retrimmed, requesting him to send it back to her before the close of school, as she would need it to wear home.