Books: What Katy Did At School
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Susan Coolidge >> What Katy Did At School
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"N. B.--Pay Miss Jane off."
CHAPTER VIII. CHANGES.
"Clover, where's Clover?" cried Rose Red, popping her head into the
schoolroom, where Katy sat writing her composition. "Oh, Katy! there
you are. I want you too. Come down to my room right away. I've such
a thing to tell you!"
"What is it?" Tell me too!" said Bella Arkwright. Bella was a
veritable "little pitcher," of the kind mentioned in the Proverb,
and had an insatiable curiosity to know every thing that other
people knew.
"Tell you, Miss? I should really like to know why!" replied Rose,
who was not at all fond of Bella.
"You're real mean, and real unkind," whined Bella. "You think you're
a great grown-up lady, and can have secrets. But you ain't! You're
a little girl too,--most as little as me. So there!"
Rose made a face at her, and a sort of growling rush, which had the
effect of sending Bella screaming down the hall. Then, returning to
the school-room,--
"Do come, Katy," she said: "find Clover, and hurry! Really and truly
I want you. I feel as if I should burst if I don't tell somebody
right away what I've found out."
Katy began to be curious. She went in pursuit of Clover, who was
practising in one of the recitation-rooms, and the three girls ran
together down Quaker Row.
"Now," said Rose, locking the door, and pushing forward a chair for
Katy and another for Clover, "swear that you won't tell, for this is
a real secret,--the greatest secret that ever was, and Mrs. Florence
would flay me alive if she knew that I knew!" She paused to enjoy
the effect of her words, and suddenly began to snuff the air in a
peculiar manner.
"Girls," she said, solemnly, "that little wretch of a Bella is in this
room. I am sure of it."
"What makes you think so?" cried the others supervised.
"I smell that dreadful pomatum that she puts on her hair! Don't you
notice it? She's hidden somewhere." Rose looked sharply about for
a minute, then made a pounce, and from under the bed dragged a small
kicking heap. It was the guilty Bella.
"What were you doing there, you bad child?" demanded Rose, seizing the
kicking feet and holding them fast.
"I don't care," blubbered Bella, "you wouldn't tell me your secret.
You're a real horrid girl, Rose Red. I don't love you a bit."
"Your affection is not a thing which I particularly pine for," retorted
Rose, seating herself, and holding the culprit before her by the ends
of her short pig-tails. "I don't want little girls who peep and hide
to love me. I'd rather they wouldn't. Now listen. Do you know what
I shall do if you ever come again into my room without leave. First,
I shall cut off your hair, pomatum and all, with my penknife,"--Bella
screamed,--"and then I'll turn myself into a bear--a great brown bear
--and eat you up." Rose pronounced this threat with tremendous energy,
and accompanied it with a snarl which showed all her teeth. Bella
roared with fright, twitched away her pig-tails, unlocked the door and
fled, Rose not pursuing, but sitting comfortably in her chair and
growling at intervals, till her victim was out of hearing. Then she
rose and bolted the door again.
"How lucky that the imp is so fond of that smelly pomatum!" she
remarked: "one always knows where to look for her. It's as good as
a bell round her neck! Now, for the secret. You promise not to tell?
Well, then, Mrs. Florence is going away week after next, and, what's
more,--she's going to be married!"
"Not really!" cried the others.
"Really and truly. She's going to be married to a clergyman."
"How did you find out?"
"Why, it's the most curious thing. You know my blue lawn, which Miss
James is making. This morning I went to try it on, Miss Barnes with
me of course, and while Miss James was fitting the waist Mrs. Seccomb
came in and sat down on the sofa by Miss Barnes. They began to talk,
and pretty soon Mrs. Seccomb said, 'What day does Mrs. Florence go?"
"'Thursday week,' said Miss Barnes. She sort of mumbled it, and
looked to see if I were listening. I wasn't; but of course after
that I did,--as hard as I could.
"'And where does the important event take place?' asked Mrs. Seccomb.
She's so funny with her little bit of a mouth and her long words.
She always looks as if each of them was a big pill, and she wanted
to swallow it and couldn't.
"'In Lewisberg, at her sister's house,' said Miss Barnes. She mumbled
more than ever, but I heard.
"'What a deplorable loss she will be to our limited circle!' said Mrs.
Seccomb. I couldn't imagine what they meant. But don't you think,
when I got home there was this letter from Sylvia, and she says, 'Your
adored Mrs. Florence is going to be married. I'm afraid you'll all
break your hearts about it. Mother met the gentleman at a party the
other night. She says he looks clever, but isn't at all handsome,
which is a pity, for Mrs. Florence is a raving beauty in my opinion.
He's an excellent preacher, we hear; and won't she manage the parish
to perfection? How shall you like being left to the tender mercies
of Mrs. Nipson?' Now did you ever hear any thing so droll in your
life?" went on Rose, folding up her letter. "Just think of those two
things coming together the same day! It's like a sum in arithmetic,
with an answer which 'proves' the sum, isn't it?"
Rose had counted on producing an effect, and she certainly was not
disappointed. The girls could think and talk of nothing else for
the remainder of that afternoon.
It was a singular fact that before two days were over every scholar
in the school knew that Mrs. Florence was going to be married! How
the secret got out, nobody could guess. Rose protested that it
wasn't her fault,--she had been a miracle of discretion, a perfect
sphinx; but there was a guilty laugh in her eyes, and Katy suspected
that the sphinx had unbent a little. Nothing so exciting had ever
happened at the Nunnery before. Some of the older scholars were
quite inconsolable. They bemoaned themselves, and got together in
corners to enjoy the luxury of woe. Nothing comforted them but the
project of getting up a "testimonial" for Mrs. Florence.
What this testimonial should be caused great discussion in the school.
Everybody had a different idea, and everybody was sure that her idea
was better than anybody's else. All the school contributed. The
money collected amounted to nearly forty dollars, and the question
was, What should be bought?
Every sort of thing was proposed. Lilly Page insisted that nothing
could possibly be so appropriate as a bouquet of wax flowers and a
glass shade to put over it. There was a strong party in favor of
spoons. Annie Silsbie suggested "a statue;" somebody else a clock.
Rose Red was for a cabinet piano, and Katy had some trouble in
convincing her that forty dollars would not buy one. Bella demanded
that they should get "an organ."
"You can go along with it as monkey," said Rose, which remark made
Bella caper with indignation.
At last, after long discussion and some quarelling, a cake-basket was
fixed upon. Sylvia Redding happened to be making a visit in Boston,
and Rose was commissioned to write and ask her to select the gift
and send it up by express. The girls could hardly wait till it came.
"I do hope it will be pretty, don't you?" they said over and over
again. When the box arrived, they all gathered to see it opened.
Esther Dearborn took out the nails, half a dozen hands lifted the
lid, and Rose unwrapped the tissue paper and displayed the basket
up to general view.
"Oh, what a beauty!" cried everybody. It was woven of twisted silver
wire. Two figures of children with wings and garlands supported the
handle on either side. In the middle of the handle were a pair of
silver doves, billing and cooing in the most affectionate way, over
a tiny shield, on which were engraved Mrs. Florence's initials.
"I never saw one like it!" "Doesn't it look heavy?" cried a chorus
of voices, as Rose, highly gratified, held up the basket.
"Who shall present it?" asked Louisa Agnew.
"Rose Red," said some of the girls.
"No, indeed, I'm not tall enough," protested Rose, "it must be somebody
who'd kind of sweep into the room and be impressive. I vote for Katy."
"Oh, no!" said Katy, shrinking back, "I shouldn't do it well at all.
Suppose we put it to a vote."
Ellen Gray cut some slips of paper, and each girl wrote a name and
dropped it into the box. When the votes were counted, Katy's name
appeared on all but three.
"I propose that we make this vote unanimous," said Rose, highly
delighted. The girls agreed; and Rose, jumping on a chair, exclaimed,
"Three cheers for Katy Carr! keep time, girls,--one, two, hip, hip,
hurrah!"
The hurrahs were given with enthusiasm, for Katy, almost without
knowing it, had become popular. She was too much touched and
pleased to speak at first. When she did, it was to protest against
her election.
"Esther would do it beautifully," she said, "and I think Mrs. Florence
would like the basket better if she gave it. You know ever since"--
she stopped. Even now she could not refer with composure to the
affair of the note.
"Oh!" cried Louisa, "she's thinking of that ridiculous note Mrs.
Florence made such a fuss about. As if anybody supposed you wrote
it, Katy! I don't believe even Miss Jane is such a goose as that.
Any way, if she is, that's one reason more why you should present
the basket, to show that we don't think so." She gave Katy a kiss
by way of period.
"Yes, indeed, you're chosen, and you must give it," cried the others.
"Very well," said Katy, extremely gratified, "what am I to say?"
"We'll compose a speech for you," replied Rose, "sugar your voice,
Katy, and, whatever you do, stand up straight. Don't crook over,
as if you thought you were tall. It's a bad trick you have, child,
and I'm always sorry to see it," concluded Rose, with the air of a
wise mamma giving a lecture.
It is droll how much can go on in a school unseen and unsuspected by
its teachers. Mrs. Florence never dreamed that the girls had guessed
her secret. Her plan was to go away as if for a visit, and leave Mrs.
Nipson to explain at her leisure. She was therefore quite unprepared
for the appearance of Katy, holding the beautiful basket, which was
full of fresh roses, crimson, white, and pink. I am afraid the rules
of the S. S. U. C. had been slightly relaxed to allow of Rose Red's
getting these flowers; certainly they grew nowhere in Hillsover except
in Professor Seccomb's garden!
"The girls wanted me to give you this, with a great deal of love from
us all," said Katy, feeling strangely embarrassed, and hardly venturing
to raise her eyes. She set the basket on the table. "We hope that
you will be happy," she added in a low voice, and moved toward the
door. Mrs. Florence had been to much surprised to speak, but now
she called, "Wait! Come back a moment."
Katy came back. Mrs. Florence's cheeks were flushed. She looked very
handsome. Katy almost thought there were tears in her eyes.
"Tell the girls that I thank them very much. Their present is
beautiful. I shall always value it." She blushed as she spoke, and
Katy blushed too. It made her shy to see the usually composed Mrs.
Florence so confused.
"What did she say? What did she say?" demanded the others, who were
collected in groups round the school-room door to hear a report of
the interview.
Katy repeated her message. Some of the girls were disappointed.
"Is that all?" they said. "We thought she would stand up and make a
speech."
"Or a short poem," put in Rose Red,--"a few stanzas thrown off on the
spur of the moment; like this, for instance:--
"Thank you, kindly, for your basket,
Which I didn't mean to ask it;
But I'll very gladly take it,
And when 'tis full of cake, it
Will frequently remind me
Of the girls I left behind me!
There was a universal giggle, which brought Miss Jane out of the
school-room.
"Order!" she said, ringing the bell. "Young ladies, what are you
about? Study hour has begun."
"We're so sorry Mrs. Florence is going away," said some of the girls.
"How did you know that she is going?" demanded Miss Jane, sharply.
Nobody answered.
Next day Mrs. Florence left. Katy saw her go with a secret regret.
"If only she would have said that she didn't believe I wrote that
note!" she told Clover.
"I don't care what she believes! She's a stupid, unjust woman!"
replied independent little Clover.
Mrs. Nipson was now in sole charge of the establishment. She had
never tried school-keeping before, and had various pet plans and
theories of her own, which she had only been waiting for Mrs.
Florence's departure to put into practice.
One of these was that the school was to dine three times a week on
pudding and bread and butter. Mrs. Nipson had a theory,--very
convenient and economical for herself, but highly distasteful to her
scholars,--that it was injurious for young people to eat meat every
day in hot weather.
The puddings were made of batter, with a sprinkling of blackberries
or raisins. Now, rising at six, and studying four hours and a half
on a light breakfast, has wonderful effect on the appetite, as all who
have tried it will testify. The poor girls would go down to dinner
as hungry as wolves, and eye the large, pale slices on their plates
with a wrath and dismay which I cannot describe. Very thick the
slices were, and there was plenty of thin, sugared sauce to eat with
them, and plenty of bread and butter; but, somehow, the whole was
unsatisfying, and the hungry girls would go upstairs almost as
ravenous as when they came down. The second-table-ites were always
hanging over the balusters to receive them, and when to the demand,
"What did you have for dinner?" "Pudding!" was answered, a low groan
would run from one to another, and a general gloom seemed to drop
down and envelop the party.
It may have been in consequence of this experience of starvation that
the orders for fourth of July were that year so unusually large. It
was an old custom in the school that the girls should celebrate the
National Independence by buying as many goodies as they liked. There
was no candy-shop in Hillsover, so Mrs. Nipson took the orders, and
sent to Boston for the things, which were charged on the bills with
other extras. Under these blissful circumstances, the girls felt
that they could afford to be extravagant, and made out their lists
regardless of expense. Rose Red's, for this Fourth, ran thus:--
"Two pounds of Chocolate Caramels.
Two pounds of Sugar almonds.
Two pounds of Lemon Drops.
Two pounds of Mixed Candy.
Two pounds of Maccaroons.
A dozen Oranges.
A dozen Lemons.
A drum of Figs.
A box of French Plums.
A loaf of Almond Cake."
The result of this liberal order was that, after the great wash-basket
of parcels had been distributed, and the school had rioted for twenty-
four hours upon these unaccustomed luxuries, Rose was found lying on
her bed, ghastly and pallid.
"Never speak to me of any thing sweet again so long as I live!" she
gasped. "Talk of vinegar, or pickles, or sour apples, but don't
allude to sugar in any form, if you love me! Oh, why, why did I
send for those fatal things?"
In time all the candy was eaten up, and the school went back to its
normal condition. Three weeks later came College commencement.
"Are you and Clover Craters or Symposiums?" demanded Lilly Page,
meeting Katy in the hall, a few days before this important event.
"What do you mean?"
"Why, has nobody told you about them? They are the two great College
Societies. All the girls belong to one or the other, and make the
wreaths to dress their halls. We work up in the Gymnasium; the Crater
girls take the east side, and the Symposium girls the west, and when
the wreaths grow too long we hang them out of the windows. It's the
greatest fun in the world! Be a Symposium, do! I'm one!"
"I shall have to think about it before deciding," said Katy, privately
resolving to join Rose Red's Society, whichever it was. The Crater it
proved to be, so Katy and Clover enrolled themselves with the Craters.
Three days before Commencement wreath-making began. The afternoons
were wholly given up to the work, and, instead of walking or piano
practice, the girls sat plaiting oak-leaves into garlands many yards
long. Baskets of fresh leaves were constantly brought in, and there
was a strife between the rival Societies as to which should accomplish
most.
It was great fun, as Lilly had said, to sit there amid the green
boughs, and pleasant leafy smells, a buzz of gay voices in the air,
and a general sense of holiday. The Gymnasium would have furnished
many a pretty picture for an artist during those three afternoons,
only, unfortunately, no artist was let in to see it.
One day, Rose Red, emptying a basket, lighted upon a white parcel,
hidden beneath the leaves.
"Lemon drops!" she exclaimed, applying finger and thumb with all the
dexterity of Jack Horner. "Here, Crater girls, here's something for
you! Don't you pity the Symposiums?"
But next day a big package of peppermints appeared in the Symposium
basket, so neither Society could boast advantage over the other. They
were pretty nearly equal, too, in the quantity of wreath made,--the
Craters measuring nine hundred yards, and the Symposiums nine hundred
and two. As for the Halls, which they were taken over to see the
evening before Commencement, it was impossible to say which was most
beautifully trimmed. Each faction preferred its own, and President
Searles said that both did the young ladies credit.
They all sat in the gallery of the church on Commencement Day, and
heard the speeches. It was very hot, and the speeches were not exactly
interesting, being on such subjects as "The Influence of a Republic on
Men of Letters," and "The Abstract Law of Justice, as applied to Human
Affairs;" but the music, and the crowd, and the spectacle of six hundred
ladies all fanning themselves at once, were entertaining, and the girls
would not have missed them for the world. Later in the day another
diversion was afforded them by the throngs of pink and blue ladies
and white-gloved gentlemen who passed the house, on their way to the
President's Levee; but they were not allowed to enjoy this amusement
long, for Miss Jane, suspecting what was going on, went from room to
room, and ordered everybody summarily off to bed.
With the close of Commencement Day, a deep sleep seemed to settle
over Hillsover. Most of the Professors' families went off to enjoy
themselves at the mountains or the sea-side, leaving their houses shut
up. This gave the village a drowsy and deserted air. There were no
boys playing balls on the Common, or swinging on the College fence;
no look of life in the streets. The weather continued warm, the
routine of study and excercise grew dull, and teachers and scholars
alike were glad when the middle of September arrived, and with it
the opening of the autumn vacation.
CHAPTER IX. THE AUTUMN VACATION.
The last day of the term was one of confusion. Every part of the
house was given over to trunks and packing. Mrs. Nipson sat at her
desk making out bills, and listening to requests about rooms and
room-mates. Miss Jane counted books and atlases, taking note of
each ink-spot and dog-eared page. The girls ran about, searching
for missing articles, deciding what to take home and what to leave,
engaging each other for the winter walks. All rules were laid aside.
The sober Nunnery seemed turned into a hive of buzzing bees. Bella
slid twice down the baluster of the front stairs without being
reproved, and Rose Red threw her arm round Katy's waist and waltzed
the whole length of Quaker Row.
"I'm so happy that I should like to scream!" she announced, as their
last whirl brought them up against the wall. "Isn't vacation just
lovely? Katy, you don't look half glad."
"We're not going home, you know," replied Katy, in rather a doleful
tone. She and Clover were not so enraptured at the coming of vacation
as the rest of the girls. Spending a month with Mrs. Page and Lilly
was by no means the same thing as spending it with papa and the
children.
Next morning, however, when the big stage drove up, and the girls
crowded in; when Mrs. Nipson stood in the door-way, blandly waving
farewell, and the maids flourished their dusters out of the upper
windows, they found themselves sharing the general excitement, and
joining heartily in the cheer which arose as the stage moved away.
The girls felt so happy and good-natured that some of them even
kissed their hands to Miss Jane.
Such a wild company is not often met with on a railroad train. They
all went together as far as the Junction: and Mr. Gray, Ellen's father,
who had been put in charge of the party by Mrs. Nipson, had his hands
full to keep them in any sort of order. He was a timid old gentleman,
and, as Rose suggested, his expression resembled that of a sedate hen
who suddenly finds herself responsible for the conduct of a brood of
ducklings.
"My dear, my dear!" he feebly remonstrated, "would you buy any more
candy? Do you not think so many pea-nuts may be bad for you?"
"Oh, no, sir!" replied Rose, "they never hurt me a bit. I can eat
thousands!" Then, as a stout lady entered the car, and made a motion
toward the vacant seat beside her, she rolled her eyes wildly, and
said, "Excuse me, but perhaps I had better take the end seat so as
to get out easily in case I have a fit."
"Fits!" cried the stout lady, and walked away with the utmost dispatch.
Rose gave a wicked chuckle, the girls tittered, and Mr. Gray visibly
trembled.
"Is she really afflicted in this way?" he whispered.
"Oh, no, papa! it's only Rose's nonsense!" apologized Ellen, who was
laughing as hard as the rest. But Mr. Gray did not feel comfortable,
and he was very glad when they reached the Junction, and half of his
troublesome charge departed on the branch road.
At six o'clock they arrived in Springfield. Half a dozen papas were
waiting for their daughters, trains stood ready, there was a clamor of
good-bys. Mr. Page was absorbed by Lilly, who kissed him incessantly,
and chattered so fast that he had no eyes for any one else. Louisa
was borne away by an uncle, with whom she was to pass the night, and
Katy and Clover found themselves left alone. They did not like to
interrupt Lilly, so they retreated to a bench, and sat down feeling
rather left-out and home-sick; and, though they did not say so, I am
sure that each was thinking about papa.
It was only for a moment. Mr. Page spied them, and came up with such
a kind greeting that the forlorn feeling fled at once. They were to
pass the night at the Massasoit, it seemed; and he collected their
bags, and led the way across the street to the hotel, where rooms
were already engaged for them.
"Now for waffles," whispered Lilly, as they went upstairs; and when,
after a few minutes of washing and brushing, they came down again into
the dining-room, she called for so many things, and announced herself
"starved" in such a tragical tone, that two amused waiters at once
flew to the rescue, and devoted themselves to supplying her wants.
Waffle after waffle--each hotter and crisper than the last--did those
long-suffering men produce, till even Lilly's appetite gave out, and
she was forced to own that she could not swallow another morsel.
This climax reached, they went into the parlor, and the girls sat
down in the window to watch the people in the street, which, after
quiet Hillsover, looked as brilliant and crowded as Broadway.
There were not many persons in the parlor. A grave-looking couple sat
at a table at some distance, and a pretty little boy in a velvet jacket
was playing around the room. He seemed about five years old; and Katy,
who was fond of children, put out her hand as he went by, caught him,
and lifted him into her lap. He did not seem shy, but looked her in
the face composedly, like a grown person.
"What is your name, dear?" she asked.
"Daniel D'Aubigny Sparks," answered the little boy, His voice was prim
and distinct.
"Do you live at this hotel?"
"Yes, ma'am. I reside here with my father and mother."
"And what do you do all day? Are there some other little boys for you
to play with?"
"I do not wish to play with any little boys," replied Daniel D'Aubigny,
in a dignified tone: "I prefer to be with my parents. To-day we have
taken a walk. We went to see a beautiful conservatory outside the city.
There is a Victoria Regia there. I had often heard of this wonderful
lily, and in the last number of the London 'Musee' there is a picture
of it, represented with a small negro child standing upon one of its
leaves. My father said that he did not think this possible, but when
we saw the plant we perceived that the print was not an exaggeration.
Such is the size of the leaf, that a small negro child might very
easily supported upon it."
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