Summary: Lesson plans have real-life implications during Miss Jones’ absence.
Rating: G 3,410 words
Written for the Bonanza Brand Advent Calendar
~*~*~ ADVENT CALENDAR ~*~*~
Day 15
*2024*
The Stamp Effect
Ponderosa Ranch—December 15, 1855
Working diligently, though not happily, at his desk on the ranch’s books, Ben heard the stamping of boots on the front porch, put down his pencil and smiled. His youngest son had incurred the wrath of Hop Sing for tromping through the house with snow covered boots not more than a week ago. Ben was sure the subsequent stream of Cantonese would have turned his hair white, if it wasn’t almost there already, and if he had understood it, which he hadn’t. But Little Joe had. Every scalding word. He had stood there sullenly, head hanging in shame, his big ears reddening from the dressing down by their chief cook, bottle washer, and overall factotum.
Henceforth, Ben’s little firebrand had been the very model of best behavior, speaking only when spoken to, saying yes, sir, and no sir, and all but bowing into and out of a room. Banned from the kitchen and all the fun activities preceding the Christmas holidays like making cookies and gingerbread houses and stringing popcorn, Joe’s pleas to his brothers to have a snowball fight or go sledding fell on deaf ears. Hoss purely did not like the cold and would instead mend tack or whittle in front of the fire or hideout in his room if he were making presents. Adam, who had only recently returned from college was still adjusting to his place in the family and life on the Ponderosa in general, preferred to read by the hearth, play chess with his father, or strum guitar in his room.
The front door opened and closed softly. Ben watched as Joe tiptoed into the room, put his boots on the hearth in front of the fire to dry out, and sat on the plank table gazing into the flames. It wasn’t long before Ben saw the boy’s shoulders sag and heard what he thought was a sniffle. Sure enough, Joe’s left elbow bent as he wiped his nose with his sleeve.
“Bored?” Ben asked.
“Whaaat?” Joe turned first one way and then the other until he spotted his father in his study. “Oh. Hi, Pa.”
Rising from his desk, Ben crossed the room to sit in the red chair, the better to see his son’s face to check whether the sniffle was a cold coming on or the aftermath of tears.
“There’s nothin’ to do and nobody to do it with.”
“Mmm. What about your homework? Don’t you have a report to do?”
Joe groaned. “Whoever heard of assigning school work over Christmas holiday. It ain’t fair!”
“Isn’t fair.”
“Exactly! Just ‘cause ol’ Jonesy got pneumonia and missed a month of school, we have to make up HER work by writing lesson plans about what SHE was supposed to teach US. It ain’t fair!”
“Isn’t…never mind.” Ben leaned forward, his elbows on his knees and folded his hands. “Joseph, what was your assigned lesson plan?”
“Somethin’ called ‘the Stamp Act.’”
“Do you know what that is?”
“How am I supposed to know … SHE’s supposed to teach US!.”
“Enough.” Ben rose and went to the staircase. “Adam? Adam!”
A door opened upstairs and Adam appeared on the landing. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing wrong. Do you recall the specifics of the school board’s decision about how the students were to make up the work missed during Miss Jones’ absence?”
“Yes. She proposed that the students each take a topic having to do with the Revolutionary War and prepare a lesson plan to teach their fellows. A rather innovative approach, I thought.”
“You would,” Little Joe mumbled loud enough to be heard.
Adam ignored the retort. “Why do you ask?”
“Joseph’s assignment is The Stamp Act. Do you have any information on the subject he could use?”
“Possibly.”
“Would you mind helping him get the facts straight so he can complete the assignment?” Ben did not miss the slight narrowing of his oldest son’s eyes. “Only the facts, son. Little Joe must write the lesson plan himself, understood?”
“Of course. I can do that.”
“Agreed, Joseph?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And what do you say to your brother?”
“Thanks, Adam.”
“We’ll get started after lunch. I have barn chores to do now.”
“Can I help?” Joe asked enthusiastically.
“Sure, kid. You can muck out the stalls,” Adam offered, hoping his brother would turn up his nose at the task and he could have some solitary time in the barn.
“Great!” Joe grabbed his boots and ran for the door before anyone changed their mind. Remembering the sniffle, Ben called after him, “Coat, muffler, hat and gloves, young man!” But the front door had already slammed shut.
*****
In his room after lunch, Adam asked his youngest brother, “Do you remember learning about the Boston Tea Party?”
“Colonists threw tea in the harbor, right?”
“Yes—“
“—wasn’t that where you went to college?”
“Yes, but—“
“Did you drink tea when you were there?”
“Sometimes. Now tell me—“
“—I don’t like tea unless it has milk and sugar. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drink tea, unless you were sick. Do you take milk and sugar in it then?”
Adam sighed. “This isn’t going to work, Little Joe. If you can’t focus, then you need to leav—“
“—I’m sorry, Adam. I’m listening, really I am.”
“Let’s start again. Why did the colonists throw tea into Boston Harbor?”
“As a protest.”
“That’s correct. What were they protesting?”
“Being taxed.”
“That’s part of it. The British Parliament enacted The Stamp Act of 1765 which imposed a direct tax on the colonies and required that any printed materials be produced on paper which included an embossed stamp. Now, why were the colonies against it?”
“They didn’t like being taxed.”
“Do you know why?”
“They didn’t vote for the people who passed the Act?”
“Good. It was called taxation without representation. That means the British government made rules that affected the colonies without input from the British citizens living there.”
Joe folded his arms across his chest and chewed on his lip.
“You look bewildered. What don’t you understand?”
“Oh, I understand, all right. I’m just confused.”
“About what?”
“This family’s kind of like a government, right?”
“With a benevolent dictator rather than a king, but yes.”
“I don’t understand what you just said, but Pa makes the rules and I have to follow them.”
Adam wasn’t sure where this conversation was headed but he could almost see the wheels turning in his brother’s head and with a sinking feeling in his stomach, he said, “Explain.”
“Pa makes the decisions.”
“With input from us.”
“No,” Joe said emphatically. “With input from you and Hoss but not me.”
“You’re not 21.”
“Neither is Hoss, yet he’s always included.”
“Your point?”
“My friend Eli turned thirteen in November and had his bar mitvah. Now he’s considered a man and included in his family’s decisions. He told me.”
“That’s different.”
“Why?”
Adam sat back in his desk chair. Why indeed. At thirteen he had been his Pa’s right hand man, having responsibilities most boys his age did not. It was the same with Hoss. Of course, at thirteen, Hoss had the height and strength of many men twice his age. Unfortunately, his youngest brother had inherited his mother’s slight stature making him “Little Joe” in more ways than one. Was there something in what the kid said?
*****
Later that evening Adam asked Pa and Hoss to join him in the kitchen where Hop Sing had a pot of coffee and an assortment of freshly-baked goodies on the table.
“Hot diggity,” Hoss said, grabbing a handful of cookies before sitting down. “What are we doing in here, Adam?”
“I’m guessing because it’s the furthest part of the house away from big ears, Hoss,” Ben answered, smiling when Adam nodded in agreement. “Is the lesson plan project off to a rocky start then?”
“It’s going fairly well but this afternoon Joe asked a question I didn’t know how to answer.”
“Go on.”
“He made an analogy comparing us to the British Parliament.”
“What do you mean ‘us’,” Hoss said.
“Pa, me and you. Joe says ‘laws’ here on the Ponderosa are being enacted without his input and that is unfair.”
“Taxation without representation, is that it?”
“Exactly, Pa. He feels he should be included in discussions regarding the ranch and any thing that affects the family.” When Ben huffed, Adam continued. “I know. And I told him he’s a child. He countered that Eli Markowitz’s family considers him a man after his bar mitzvah. Joe feels he’s due the same consideration especially since he’s older than Eli.”
Ben said, “That’s preposterous!”
Hoss covered a chuckle with a cough.
“You think Little Joe should be treated as an adult, Hoss?”
“No, sir, I don’t. He’s still got a mite of growing up to do, but I understand why he thinks his opinion doesn’t matter to us.”
“Why?”
“He gets treated like he’s a kid.”
“That’s because he is one,” Adam said.
“No, he ain’t, big brother. He’s growed up a whole lot while you were away. But because he’s small and scrawny, folks just naturally assume he’s younger than he is and treat him that way and overlook him. Or—“ Hoss looked pointedly at Adam. “—dismiss him altogether.”
Ben slapped the palm of his hand on the table. “If you’ve got something to say, Hoss, spit it out.”
“Little Joe sees things that we don’t always consider. Things that could make a difference if we’d listen.”
“For example?” Ben asked.
“Back when Adam first got home from college and you made him boss—”
“—don’t remind me.” Adam interrupted. “That’s when he started calling me ‘bossy man’.”
“Well, you were kinda full of yerself. Like when we were haulin’ those logs down to Genoa and you told Little Joe to hitch up the team with Buster in the lead. He told you that was a bad idea and you didn’t ask why. If ya had, he woulda told you Buster would cause trouble in that position.”
Ben interrupted. “Wait a minute…you’re telling me the reason we lost the load, the contract, and good stock in the process was because of the placement of a horse and not a broken axle?”
“Yessir.”
Adam bristled. “It was a heavy load. Buster was the strongest draft horse we had and I have more experience than our kid brother.”
“Experience ain’t everything, big brother. Little Joe knows horses better than most because he speaks horse. Don’t laugh. He understands their moods, twitches, quirks…whatever you want to call it…he has a sixth sense about what’s causin’ their behavior. It pains me to say it but if we had listened to Joe the accident might not have happened.”
Adam sighed and pinched his nose. “Thanks for saying ‘we,’ Hoss, but as you point out, we both know it was me who ignored Joe’s warning.”
“The accident is water under the bridge.” Ben finished his coffee and stood up.“I’m beginning to understand that we all, myself included, treat Joseph more as a child than the young man he’s becoming.”
“What do you propose we do about it?” asked Adam.
“Yeah, Pa, what?”
“Let me think on it.”
*****
Later that evening as Ben was nearing the top of the stairs he saw light under Joe’s door so he knocked. “May I come in?”
“Sure.” Joe shoved his dime novel under his pillow and did his best to look innocent. He wasn’t sure why his Pa was checking on him as he was way too old to be tucked in, but Christmas was just around the corner and there was no sense risking a lecture about ‘suitable’ reading material. He pulled his feet up and sat cross legged. “Have a seat, Pa.”
“Tell me about Buster.”
“What about him?” Joe answered warily.
“Hoss said you had concerns about the load being delivered to Genoa a few months ago and Adam admitted that he didn’t listen to you. What did you want to tell him?” Ben smiled inwardly as he watched Joe trying to figure out where the pitfalls were in this question and decided to help a little. “Why shouldn’t have Buster been in the lead harness?”
“Well…if we were going up the mountain, I wouldn’t have said anything.”
“But going down the mountain made a difference?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“You won’t laugh?”
“Of course not.”
“Adam did. I heard him tell Hoss he wasn’t going to listen to any fool kid who thought a horse was afraid of heights.”
“You thought Buster was afraid of heights?”
“Yes.”
“How did you come to that conclusion?”
Joe shrugged. “By watchin’ him when we haul freight. He’s fine coming up the mountain, especially if he’s on the inside. But going down … if he’s on the outside, he gets all wide-eyed and jittery and stamps his hooves. I can’t explain it, Pa. I just know that’s how he felt—scared of the drop off.”
Ben was thoughtful a moment as he digested this information. “You’re a lot like your mother, you know. She had a special understanding of horses, too.” He leaned forward and whispered, “I think she talked to them.”
“Yeah?” Joe said eagerly. “I do that and I listen to Old Ned. He knows a whole lot about how horses think, Pa. Did you know he was born in 1794? Gosh, that’s the last century! Maybe that’s why he’s called ‘Old’ Ned. He must be so old he knows everything!”
Ben laughed. “His name is actually Wilhelm van der Haven. He’s from the Netherlands also known as Nederland which he calls the Old Country and that’s how he got his nickname ‘Old Ned’. He was a Calvary officer in his homeland and you are right, he knows a lot about horses.”
“When did you meet?”
“When I was in the Militia. I was impressed with his knowledge so when my service was over, I offered him a job on the Ponderosa.” Ben was thoughtful for a moment and then, confident he had stumbled upon a solution, stated, “Would you like to spend more time with Ned? I mean actually work with him training our stock?”
“Are you kidding? Of course! When?”
“I’ll have to talk with Ned first. If he agrees, we’ll work out a schedule after the holidays but schoolwork must come first, understand?”
Joe threw himself at his father and hugged him tight. “I sure do. Thanks, Pa!”
As the door closed, Joe snuggled down under the covers grinning from ear to ear. “Gosh, working with all the horses. “Best Christmas present ever!”
Ben, his hand still on the door knob, smiled at his son’s enthusiasm. Could this relatively simple solution really be the answer to the growing pains Little Joe was experiencing? If only Adam’s reintegration into ranch life after college had been as successful. He had thought family life was getting back to normal but the revelation about the real cause of the accident shed new light on his eldest son’s subtle distance from his brothers and the undertones of disharmony in the house evidenced by all three sons spending free time in their rooms rather than engaging in snowball fights, sing-a-longs, chess or checkers. How could I have been so blind?
How.
Ben pondered for a moment on the importance of that simple interrogatory and had a flash of inspiration. Releasing his grip on the knob, he stepped across the hall to Adam’s room and knocked before cracking the door. “Is this a good time to talk about the new barn?”
“Come on in, Pa. I’ve drawn up some preliminary plans,” Adam said as he unrolled blueprints from the bin beside his desk onto the bed and drew his reading chair closer.
“Have a seat,” he added while turning his desk chair around to face his father. Ben asked questions, Adam made notes, and they debated options. When they were finished, Ben sat back, steepled his hands and looked fondly at his son, the corner of his mouth quirking upward.
“What? Is there something I’ve forgotten?”
“On the contrary, son. As usual you addressed every imaginable concern I could have had.”
“But?”
“No buts.”
“Why don’t I believe you?”
“Because ‘why’ is a crooked letter.”
Adam blinked. “Are you feeling all right?”
Ben chuckled. “Quite right son. It’s just that I’ve had a bit of an epiphany.”
“Appropriate season for it.”
“That it is.”
“Care to share?”
“From the time you could walk and explore the world around you, your favorite word was ‘how.’ How does this work? How many days until we get there? How do these pieces fit together or come apart? How can I accomplish this goal?”
“Your point?”
“Does Joseph ever ask you ‘why’?”
Adam groaned. “Every. Single. Time. It’s quite annoying.”
“That’s his word.”
“His word,” Adam repeated. “I don’t understand.”
“You have an engineer’s mind. You need to know how things work, am I correct?”
“Yes.”
“Can you accept the premise that Joseph has an investigator’s mind.“
“—and he wants to know why?”
Ben nodded. “He wants to understand why people—or horses for that matter—do what they do.”
Adam stood and went to the window, staring out into the night sky. “Perhaps Hoss is right and Joe inherited Marie’s intuition as well as her stature.”
“It’s worth considering, son. Goodnight.”
*****
Before heading for bed, Ben crossed the hall to Hoss’s Room and knocked softly. “Still up, Hoss?”
“Come on in, Pa. I’m just whittling.”
“Working on Christmas presents?”
“Yep. What do you think of this one?” He pointed to a large carved horse on a bedside table covered with newspaper. “You can pick it up. Paint’s dry.”
“Hoss, this is amazing! Buster, isn’t it?” “Yep. Do ya think it’s too soon?”
“Loss is a part of life, Hoss. I know Joe will remember Buster fondly every time he looks at this.” He set the horse back on the table.
“I appreciated you speaking up the other night and telling me what really caused the accident. I know it’s hard for you to take sides between your brothers but you did the right thing.”
“Thanks for sayin’ that, Pa. It did pain me some.”
“Would you have time to do me a favor?”
“Sure. What do you need?”
“A wooden frame about two inches square suitable for a picture.”
“Christmas?”
“New Year’s.”
“Can do. Do you need anything else?”
“Only a visit to the post office in Genoa.”
*****
Ponderosa Ranch—January 1, 1856
At breakfast on New Year’s Day there was a box on Little Joe’s plate. He looked around the table and no one else had a similar package. “What’s this?” he asked, looking from person to person.
“A good way to find out is to open it,” said Adam.
Carefully, Joe unpeeled the wrapping paper, all the while glancing about the table. Inside the box was something hard wrapped in a table linen. As he unfolded the napkin he again looked at the grinning faces surrounding him. Even Hop Sing standing nearby was smiling. “It’s a picture frame. Did you carve this Hoss?”
“Sure did.”
“Pa, look at the pine trees on the sides and pinecones across the top and bottom!”
“Had to make it a mite bigger than Pa asked for in order to get the details right.”
“It’s beautiful, Hoss!” Ben exclaimed. “You even included our pine brand in the corners. Joseph, you were so busy looking at the frame that you didn’t look closely at what’s under the glass.”
“Huh? Oh. Is that a picture of … George Washington? I don’t get it?”
Ben said, “It’s the Washington postage stamp that was issued last year.”
“I don’t get why you’re giving me a stamp.”
“I thought—and your brothers agreed—that we should mark your inclusion in family discussions regarding the Ponderosa from this day forward.”
Joe’s eyes widened as the significance of his Pa’s words sunk in. “No taxation without representation,” he said grinning and wagging his finger at his oldest brother, he added, “You told Pa.”
“That I did. May I see the frame?”
“Take a look.”
“Brilliant, Hoss! Extraordinary workmanship.” Handing it back to his youngest brother, Adam said, “Look on the back.”
Joe turned the frame over and saw:
Joseph Francis Cartwright
1842
1855
“I don’t get it.”
“Do the math,” Adam said.
“Hey! 1842. 1855. That’s 13 years. Wait til I tell Eli!” Joe ran around the table hugging his family one by one.
“Whatcha cryin’ for, short shanks?” asked Hoss.
Joe sniffed. “Best present ever!”
The End
My character was Joe and my invention was the postage stamp.
Link to Day 16 of the Bonanza Brand Advent Calendar – A Candy Floss Christmas by mcfair_58
This was awesome! Loved the epiphany that Ben had and that he and Hoss dragged Adam to the same conclusion. I felt like cheering by the end of the story! plus the fact that now I know about the Stamp Act, LOL! I never knew that bit of history!
Oh, this was absolutely marvelous. Your Ben is so very much the man I saw in that series, and of course you nailed each of the boys. Just curious… without giving anything of the story away, what is Hoss’ ‘word’? Brilliant, thank you for sharing it with us.
Sorry he was 13! EXCELLENT
Excellent story! Joe was actually being taken seriously at age 12 as his birthday occurred after Jan 1.
Oh those how and why questions added great insight into two family members in this memorable Christmas story.
And here I thought Faust had foisted the Stamp Act on you as an invention! Either way, you made brilliant use of your prompt and created a very enjoyable story.
Ha! I did stew a bit about the prompt (Stamp) and had to do some research (you know I would) to figure out how I was going to work that in to a story. Thankfully, it all came together in the end. Thanks, Puchi.
This is a fantastic story – I enjoyed it very much! Each Cartwright is wonderfully represented. Thank you so much!
Thank you, AJINBC, for reading and letting me know what you thought of the story.
I thought this was a really good story and a history lesson to boot! I thought the different perspectives of each of the Cartwrights were spot on! Wonderful!
Thank, Wrangler. Happy New Year!