Peggy Stewart at School — Key Ideas to Explore

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Jackson, Gabrielle E. (Gabrielle Emilie), 1861- Project Gutenberg 2007 Not confirmed
United States Naval Academy -- Fiction; Young women -- Education -- Fiction; Children of military personnel -- Fiction; Maryland -- Fiction; Washington (D.C.) -- Fiction Readers of public-domain and historical texts
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Words 63,356
Reading time 276 min
Text sections 8

For Peggy Stewart at School — Key Ideas to Explore, the stored edition analysis reports 63,356 words, 4 hr 36 min estimated reading time, and 8 detected text sections.

The text analysis averages about 17.9 words per sentence, while the detected sections provide another way to judge how the source is divided.

Project Gutenberg metadata also associates the work with “United States Naval Academy -- Fiction,” connecting these edition facts with the source record’s subject description.

This editorial note examines the structure, recurring imagery, and movement between domestic and school settings in Gabrielle E. Jackson's novel, focusing on how the opening chapters establish atmosphere and character dynamics before shifting to Columbia Heights.
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Editorial Edition Score 4.7/5

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Peggy had raised from tiny babyhood, and which had followed her as he would have followed his dam, ever since the accident that had made him an orphan.

Perhaps the reader of "Peggy Stewart" will recall Mrs. Stewart's horror upon being met at the railway station by "the wild West show," as she stigmatized her niece's riding and her horses, for rarely did Peggy Stewart ride unless accompanied by her two beautiful horses and the wolfhound, and her riding was a source of marvel to more than one, her instructor having been Shelby, the veteran horse-trainer, who had been employed at Severndale ever since Peggy could remember, and whose early days had been spent upon a ranch in the far West where a man had to ride anything which possessed locomotive powers. At the present moment a more appreciative observer would have thrilled at the sight, for rarely is it given to mortal eyes to look upon a prettier picture than Peggy Stewart and her escort presented at that moment.

Given as a background a beautiful, carefully preserved estate, which for generations has been the pride of its owners, a superb old mansion of the most perfect colonial type, a sunny September morning, and as the figures upon that background a charming young girl in a white linen riding-skirt, her rich coloring at its best, her eyes shining, her seat in her saddle so perfect that she seemed a part of her mount, and you have something to look upon. To this add three thoroughbred horses and a snowy dog, an old colored servitor, for Jerome had come out with a message from Harrison, and it is a picture to be appreciated. Had the tall woman standing upon the broad piazza been able to do so, many things which happened later might never have happened at all.

Mrs. Stewart was elaborately gowned in a costume better suited for a drive in Newport than Annapolis, especially Annapolis in September. It was a striking creation of pale blue linen and Irish point lace, with a large lace hat, heavy with nodding plumes and a voluminous white lace veil floating out about it. She was a handsome woman in a certain conspicuous way, and certainly knew how to purchase her apparel, though, not above criticism in her selection of the toilet for the occasion, as the present instance evinced. She now walked to the piazza steps, and had anyone possessing a sense of humor been a witness of it, the transformation which passed over the lady's face en transit would have well nigh convulsed him, for the smile which had illumined her countenance at the door had gradually faded as she advanced until, when the steps were reached, it had been transformed into a most disapproving frown.

To Peggy the reason was a mystery, for she had not overheard her aunt's comments upon the occasion of the drive from the railway station three days before. Of course Jess had, and they had been freely circulated and keenly resented in the servants' quarters, but no whisper of them had been carried to the young mistress. Nevertheless, Peggy was beginning to discover that a good many of her actions, and also the order of things at Severndale, had brought a cloud to her Aunt's brow, and a little sigh escaped her lips as she wondered what the latest development would prove. It seemed so easy for things to go amiss nowadays, when heretofore nearly everything had seemed, as a matter of course, to go right. Then the self-elected dictator spoke:

"Peggy, dear, are you not to drive with me?"

"Thank you, Aunt Katherine, but I always ride, and I have several errands to do which I can better attend to if I am mounted."

"Well, it can hardly be necessary for you to have _three_ saddle horses at once. It seems to me unnecessarily conspicuous, and in very bad taste for a young girl to go tearing about the country, and especially into Annapolis--the capital City of the State--in the guise of a traveling circus."

A slight smile curved Peggy's lips as she answered:

"Annapolis is _not_ New York, Aunt Katherine. What might be out of place in such a city would be regarded as a matter of course in a little town where everybody knows everybody else, and they all know me, and the Severndale horses. Nobody ever gives us a thought. Why should they? I'm nothing but a girl riding into town on an errand."

"You are extremely modest, I must say. Is it quite native or well--we'll dismiss the question, but I must ask you to do me the favor of leaving your bodyguard behind today; it may not seem conspicuous for you to play in a Wild West Show, but I must decline to be an actor. You are growing too old for such mad pranks, and are far too handsome a girl to invite observation."

Peggy turned crimson.

"Why, Aunt Katherine, I never regarded it as a prank in the least. I have ridden this way all my life and no one has ever commented upon it. Daddy Neil knows of it--he has ridden with me hundreds of times himself--and never said one word against it. And you surely do not think I do it to invite observation? Why, there isn't anything to _observe_. I am certainly no better looking than hundreds of other girls; at least, you are the only one who has ever commented upon my personal appearance. But I beg your pardon; you are my guest. I am sorry. Bud, please call Shelby to take Star and Roy back; I don't dare trust them to you."

The little negro boy who had brought Shashai to the doorstep, and who had been staring popeyed during the conversation, dashed away toward the paddock, to rush upon Shelby with a wild tale of "dat lady f'om de norf was a-sassin' Missie Peggy jist scan'lous and orderin' Shelby fer to come quick ter holp her."

"What you a-talking about, you little fool nigger?" demanded Shelby. Then gathering that something was amiss with the little mistress whom all upon the estate adored, he hastened to the house, his face somewhat troubled, for hints of the doings up there had penetrated even to his quarters.

"Shelby, please take Star and Roy back to the paddock and be sure to fasten them in."

"Ain't they a-goin' with you, Miss Peggy?"

"Not this morning, Shelby."

The man looked from the girl to the lady now settling herself in the carriage. Toinette still stood upon the piazza waiting to be lifted up to her mistress, too fat and too foolish to even go down the steps alone. As Shelby stepped toward the horses Mrs. Stewart waved her hand toward the dog and said to him:

"Lift Toinette into the surrey."

Shelby paid no more attention to her than he paid to the quarreling jays in the holly trees, and the order was sharply repeated.

"Oh, are you a-speakin' to me, ma'am?" he then said.

"Certainly. I wish my dog handed to me."

Shelby looked at the pampered poodle and then at its mistress. Then with a guileless smile remarked:

"Now you don't sesso? Well, when I git back to the paddock with these here horses what can't go 'long with Miss Peggy, I'll send a little nigger boy up here for ter boost your dog up to you, but _I_ tend _horses_ on this here place."

The man's dark skin grew several shades darker owing to the blood which flooded his cheeks, and his eyes narrowed as he looked for one second straight into Mrs. Stewart's. What possessed the woman to antagonize everyone with whom she came in touch? Shelby had never laid eyes upon her until that moment, but that moment had confirmed his dislike conceived from the reports which had come to him. He now went up to the horses. Knowing that neither of them had halters on, he had brought two with him and now slipped them over his charges' heads, saying as he did so:

"You've got to come 'long back with me and keep company manners, do you know that, you disrepu'ble gad-abouts? You ain't never had no proper eddicatin' an' now it's a-goin' to begin for fa'r. You-all are goin' ter be larnt citified manners hot off the bat. So come 'long back to the paddock an' git your fust lesson."

The horses toyed and played with him like a couple of children, but went pacing away beside him, now and again pulling at his sleeve, poking at him with their soft muzzles or mumbling at his cheeks with their velvety lips, a pair of petted, peerless creatures and as beautiful as any God had ever created. Now and again they stopped short to neigh a peremptory call, as though asking the reason of this surprising conduct.

"Are you ready, Aunt Katherine?" asked Peggy.

"As soon as Jerome takes your hound in charge. I don't care to have Toinette driven frantic with fear by the sight of her. She will grow so excited that I shall be unable to hold her."

Now the past two hours had held a good many annoyances for Peggy Stewart to whom annoyances had been almost unknown. Perhaps they constitute the discipline of life, but thus far Peggy Stewart had apparently gotten on pretty well without any radical chastening processes. Her life had been simply, but well, ordered, and her naturally sunny soul had grown sweet and wholesome in her little world. If correction had been necessary Mammy's loving old heart had known how to order it during Peggy's babyhood; Harrison had carefully watched her childhood, and her young girlhood had been most beautifully developed by her guardian, good Dr. Llewellyn, who loved her as a grand-daughter. Then had come Mrs. Harold, who had done so much for the young girl. Why could it not have gone on?

Perhaps the ordering of Peggy's life had been too smooth to develop the best in her character, so Kismet, or whatever it is which shapes the odd happenings of our lives, had stepped in to lay a hurdle or two to test her ability to meet obstacles. Since seven-thirty that morning she had met little else in one form or another, and had taken them rather gracefully, all things considered. Her breakfast had been delayed an hour; the breakfast itself had been far from the pleasant meal it usually proved; she had been needlessly criticised for her habit of riding with her beloved horses; and now poor Tzaritza, after being banished the house, was to be debarred from following her young mistress; something unheard of, since the hound had acted as Peggy's protectress ever since she could follow her. The blood flooded into the girl's face, as turning to her Aunt she said very quietly, but with a dignity which Mrs. Stewart dared not encroach upon:

"I am very sorry to seem in any way discourteous or disobliging, Aunt Katherine, but Daddy Neil and Compadre, have always wished Tzaritza to accompany me when I ride. I have never felt any fear but they feel differently, as there are, of course, some undesirable characters between Severndale and Annapolis, and they consider Tzaritza a great protection against any possible annoyance. We will ride on ahead, since it is likely to annoy you, but I must go into Annapolis this morning. Another time I shall drive with you, but I can't ask you to drive where I must ride today. When you see some of the Annapolitan streets you will understand why. They have not been re paved since the first pavements were laid generations ago, and you would be most uncomfortable. Be careful where you drive, Jess. I will meet you at the Bank."

There was a graceful bow to Mrs. Stewart, a slight pressure of the knee against Shashai, a low whistle to Tzaritza and she had whirled and was away like the wind.

Madam Stewart drew a quick breath and compressed her thin lips until they formed barely a line, and during that drive into Annapolis did some rapid thinking. Evidently she had made another mistake.

As Peggy rode along the highway which led to Annapolis, the usual merry, lilting songs, to which Shashai's hoofbeats kept time, were silenced, and the girl rode in deep thought. Shashai tossed his head impatiently as though trying to attract her attention, and now and again Tzaritza bounded up to her with a deep, questioning bark. Peggy smiled a little abstractedly and said:

"Your Missie is doing some hard thinking, my beauties and doesn't feel songful this morning." Then after a moment she resumed:

"O Shashai, what _is_ the matter with everything? Am _I_ all wrong, or is Aunt Katherine different from everybody else? I have never met anyone just like her before, and I feel just exactly as though someone had drawn a file across my teeth, and I dare say that's all wrong too. If the Little Mother and Polly were only here they'd know how to make me see things differently, but I seem to get in wrong at every turn. Aunt Katherine has been here only two days, but what days they have been! And ten times more to follow before the month ends!"

Shashai had gradually slowed down until he was walking with his own inimitably dainty step, his hoofs falling upon the leaf-strewn road with the lightness of a deer's. Presently they came to a pretty wood-road leading almost at angles to the highway, but Peggy was again too occupied to notice that Tzaritza had turned into it and that Shashai, as a matter of course, had followed her. Annapolis could be reached by this less frequented way but it made a wide detour, leading past Nelly Bolivar's home. As they struck the refreshing coolness of the byway Shashai broke into what Peggy called his "rocking-chair gait," though she was so much a part of him that she was hardly aware of the more rapid motion. Her first clear intimation that her route had changed occurred when a cheerful voice called out:

"And she wandered away and away into the land o' dreams, my princess."

Peggy raised her head quickly and the old light flashed back into her eyes, the old smile curved her lips as she cried:

"Why, Nelly Bolivar! How under the sun came I here?"

"In the usual way, I reckon, Miss Peggy. I don't often see you come in any other. But this time you sure enough look as though you had been dreaming," laughed Nelly, coming close to Shashai, who instantly remembered his manners and neighed his greeting, while Tzaritza thrust her head into the girl's arms with the gentlest insinuation. Nelly held the big head close, rested her face against it a second, then took Shashai's soft muzzle in both hands and planted a kiss just where it was most velvety, saying softly:

"I can't imagine you three separated. The picture would not be complete. But what is wrong, Miss Peggy? You look so sober you make me feel queer," for the smile had gone from the girl's face and Nelly was quick to feel the seriousness of her expression.

"Perhaps I'm cross and cranky, Nelly. At any rate I've no business to be here this minute. I started for Annapolis, but my wits got wool-gathering, I reckon, and I let Shashai turn in here without noticing where he was going. Aunt Katherine will reach Annapolis before I do and--then--" and Peggy stopped and wagged her head as though pursuit of the subject would better be dropped. Nelly's face clouded. It had not required the two days of Mrs. Stewart's visit to circulate a good many reports concerning her. Indeed both Jerome and old Mammy had described her at length, and the description had lost nothing upon their African tongues, nor had the experiences of the three months spent up north: Madam Stewart had figured rather conspicuously in their pictures of the "doin's up yander." Had she suspected how accurately the old colored people had gauged her, or how great an influence their gauging was likely to have upon the plans she had so carefully laid, she might have been a little more circumspect in her conduct toward them. But to her they were "just black servants" and she was entirely incapable of weighing their influence in the domestic economy, or of understanding their shrewd judgment as to the best interests of the young girl whom each, in common with all the other old servants upon the estate, loved with a devotion absolutely incomprehensible to most northern-born people. And another potent fact, entirely absent from the characteristics of the northern negro, is the fact that the southern negro servants' "kinnery" instantly adopts and maintains the viewpoint of those "nearest the throne." It is a survival of the old feudal system, unknown in the cosmopolitan North, but which even in this day, so remote from the days of slavery, makes itself very distinctly felt in many parts of the South.

And many of the servants upon the Severndale estate had been there for three generations. Hence Peggy was their "chile," and her joys or sorrows, happiness or unhappiness, were theirs, and all their kin's, to be talked over, remedied if possible, but shared if not, or made a part of their own delight in living, as the case might demand. And the ramifications of their kinship were amazing. No wonder the report that "an aunt-in-law ob de yo'ng mistress yonder at Severndale, had done come down an' ondertuck fer ter run de hull shebang _an'_ Miss Peggy inter de bargain, what is never been run by nobody," had circulated throughout the whole community, and met with a resolute, though carefully concealed opposition--subtle, intangible, but sure to prove overwhelming in the end--the undertow, so hidden but so irresistible. All this had stolen from one pair of lips to another and, of course, been related with indignant emphasis to Jim Bolivar, Nelly's father, one of the tenants of Severndale's large estate. And he, in turn, had discussed it with Nelly, who worshipped the very ground Peggy chose to stand upon, for to Peggy Stewart Nelly owed restored health, her home rescued when ruin seemed about to claim everything her father owned, and all the happiness which had come into her lonely life.

No wonder she now looked up to the deep brown eyes with her own blue ones troubled and distressed.

HOSTILITIES SUSPENDED

During her drive into Annapolis Madam Stewart did more deep thinking than it was generally given to her shallow brain to compass. Like most of her type, she possessed a certain shrewdness, which closely touched upon cunning when she wished to gain her ends, but she had very little real cleverness, and practically no power of logical deduction.

Today, however, she had felt antagonism enveloping her as a fog, and would have been not a little surprised to realize that its most potent force lay in Peggy's humble servitors rather than in Peggy herself. From the old darkey driving her, so deferentially replying to her questions, and at such pains to point out everything of interest along the way, she felt it radiate with almost tangible scorn and hostility, and yet to have saved her life she could not have said: "He is remiss in this or that."

They drove into Annapolis by the bridge which crosses the Severn just above the Naval Hospital, and from which the whole Academy is seen at its best, with the wide sweep of the beautiful Chesapeake beyond. Jess pointed out everything most carefully. Then on they went across College Creek bridge, up College Avenue, by historic old St. Ann's and drew up at the Bank to meet Peggy. Mrs. Stewart looked about her in undisguised disappointment and asked:

"Is _this_ the capital city of the State of Maryland? _This_ little town?"

Jess' mouth hardened. He loved the quaint old town and all its traditions. So did his young mistress. It had always meant home to her, and to many, many generations of her family before her. The old "Peggy Stewart" house famous in history, though no longer occupied by her own family, still stood, a landmark, in the heart of the town and was pointed to with pride by all.

"Dis sho' is de capital city ob de State, Ma'am. Yonder de guv'nor's mansion, jist over dar stan' de co't house, an' yonder de Cap'tal an' all de yether 'ministrashum buildin's, an' we'all's powerful proud ob 'em."

Mrs. Stewart smiled a superior smile as she replied:

"I have heard that the South is not progressive and is perfectly apathetic to conditions. It _must_ be. Heavens! Look at these streets! They are perfectly disgusting, and the odor is horrible. I shall be glad to drive home."

The novel opens with a September morning at Severndale, where the air is described as "heavy and lifeless" and leaves hang "limp and motionless." This atmospheric detail immediately establishes a sense of stagnation that contrasts with the meticulous order inside the breakfast room, where old Jerome moves "noiselessly" adjusting a fruit knife or fold of cloth. The tension between oppressive heat and domestic precision sets the stage for the arrival of a guest who disrupts the usual harmony. Jackson uses the weather as a barometer for emotional undercurrents, a technique that recurs throughout the excerpts.

Movement Between Settings

The narrative moves fluidly between the domestic sphere of Severndale and the institutional setting of Columbia Heights School. The opening chapters linger on the Stewart household, with its attentive servants and refined appointments, before shifting to the school environment where new rules and social hierarchies emerge. This transition is marked by a change in tone: the languid heat of September gives way to the "cool crispness" of later mornings, and the focus moves from private tensions to group dynamics. The riding lesson in Chapter VIII serves as a bridge, as the girls move from the stables to the park, and Mrs. Vincent observes the condition of the horses—a detail that reveals unspoken conflicts. Jackson uses physical movement—from house to stable, from schoolroom to riding field—to underscore shifts in power and understanding.

Recurring Imagery of Horses and Care

Horses appear repeatedly as symbols of care, status, and hidden knowledge. Old Jessekiah, the stable hand, talks to his "babies" with an "incessant flow of affectionate talk," contrasting with the impersonal treatment of other horses like Lady Belle, who is in a lather despite the cool morning. The condition of the horses becomes a silent indictment: Peggy and Polly ride "like Valkyrie" yet their mounts are fresh, while others show signs of strain. Mrs. Vincent's observation of Jess's careful grooming—"as much care as a French maid would bestow upon her mistress"—marks a turning point in her understanding of the household. The imagery extends to the school, where Stella's chafing dish and well-stocked larder suggest a different kind of pampering, but one that lacks the genuine devotion Jess shows his animals.

Structure of Tension and Revelation

The chapter titles signal a deliberate structure of conflict: "The Barometer Falling," "Hostilities Suspended," "Hostilities Resumed," "Ructions!" This pattern suggests a rhythm of rising and falling tension, with domestic peace repeatedly disrupted. The excerpts show how small details—a guest's arrival, a riding lesson, a fudge party—become occasions for revelation. Mrs. Vincent's growing awareness, for instance, unfolds through careful observation rather than direct confrontation. The narrative withholds full explanations, leaving readers to infer motives from gestures and dialogue. This structural choice creates a sense of layered understanding, where surface harmony conceals deeper currents.

Voice and Dialogue as Characterization

Jackson uses distinct voices to differentiate characters and social positions. Old Jerome's "low-murmured monologue after the manner of his race" and Jessekiah's dialect—"Dar now, honeys"—mark them as figures of tradition and loyalty. In contrast, Mrs. Vincent speaks in measured, trivial questions, her growing wisdom revealed through what she does not say. Stella's father, in a letter, uses a breezy, indulgent tone: "Oh, nonsense, my dear Madam!" The dialogue often carries subtext, as when Dawson's face undergoes "a change which would have been amusing had it not been entirely too significant." These vocal contrasts reinforce the novel's exploration of class, race, and generational change, though the excerpts limit full development of these themes.

Readers attentive to Jackson's use of weather, horses, and domestic ritual will find a narrative that rewards close observation. The movement between Severndale and Columbia Heights is not merely geographical but thematic, as the novel explores how character is revealed under pressure. The excerpts suggest a story built on implication rather than explicit statement, making it a study in indirect storytelling.

There’s something about how Peggy Stewart finds its quiet power in the spaces between home and school, those walks where thoughts settle. It reminded me of what I felt reading Dave Porter in the Far North; Or, The Pluck of an American Schoolboy — Key Ideas to Explore — that same thread of courage showing up not in grand gestures, but in small, stubborn decisions. That warmth stays with you long after.

Isabella Wright
3 weeks ago

Wyatt Harris
1 week ago

Victoria Mitchell
3 weeks ago

Oliver Moore
2 weeks ago

Sebastian Williams
1 month ago

4.5
4.5 out of 5 (5 User reviews )

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  • ...
    Gene Curry - 1 month ago
    {'rating': 2, 'text': 'While Peggy Stewart At School has its moments, the story feels dated and lacks depth. The characters are one-dimensional, and the plot is formulaic. The writing is simple but fails to evoke much emotion. It might appeal to those nostalgic for old-fashioned school tales, but modern readers may find it tedious. There are better books in this genre.'}

  • ...
    John Rich - 3 weeks ago
    {'rating': 3, 'text': "Peggy Stewart At School is an enjoyable read with a charming protagonist and a well-paced plot. The school setting is depicted vividly, and the characters are likable. However, the plot is somewhat predictable, and the resolution feels rushed. Still, it's a pleasant story that will appeal to fans of vintage juvenile fiction."}

  • ...
    Teresa Clark - 2 weeks ago
    {'rating': 4, 'text': "Peggy Stewart At School is a delightful continuation of Peggy's adventures. The author captures the essence of boarding school life with charm and authenticity. Peggy's spirited personality and her interactions with friends and teachers are engaging and heartwarming. The story is filled with wholesome lessons about friendship, loyalty, and growing up, making it a perfect read for young readers. I thoroughly enjoyed following Peggy's journey and highly recommend this book to anyone who loves classic school stories."}


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