Читать книгу Mary Jane at School - Clara Ingram Judson - Страница 4

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IT was a proud moment for Mary Jane when the door opened and she stood in the third grade room. To be sure she couldn’t see the girls she knew—she was so excited that all the children seemed a blur of faces. But she knew perfectly well that they could see her, and she could guess just how surprised they would be.

Miss Montrow smiled and took the note Mary Jane handed her. While she read it, Mary Jane glanced around a bit. It was an attractive room; bowls of nasturtiums stood on the table and desk, a great bunch of marigolds was on the nearest window sill, and pretty pictures hung on the walls.

“My! I hope I can stay here,” thought Mary Jane. “I’m going to try my best.”

“Good morning, Mary Jane,” said Miss Montrow, as she folded up the note, “we’re glad to see you. You haven’t any hat, so you may come right in and sit here on the front seat. We are just assigning seats now, so you are in time.”

Mary Jane was glad to slip into the seat Miss Montrow pointed out, for she didn’t much fancy standing there before everyone for long.

Miss Montrow finished calling the roll, collected cards—she didn’t even speak to Mary Jane about hers—and then she had everyone stand up so she could see how tall they were. Big folks really had to sit toward the back as they could see over the heads of the other folks. Mary Jane wasn’t as tall as most, many of the children seemed older, so she had to stay near the front, which was lucky, as she wanted to do that anyway. Ann was right across the aisle, and Betty three seats back.

The first minute she had a chance to whisper, Betty said, “What you doing here, Mary Jane? Going to stay?”

Mary Jane thought it easy enough to say that she was going to school there, so she merely answered the last question with a nod of her head for yes. It wouldn’t do to start off in a new room where she was only on approval by whispering first thing.

There wasn’t much work that morning. Seats were assigned, lists of books to be brought before afternoon were on the board to be copied, and the roll was called twice so Miss Montrow could be sure about the names. Then the bell rang and the first session was over—just that soon.

It seemed good to get out-of-doors again and run in the yard. Betty was in no hurry, she wanted to hear how Mary Jane got to their room, and how long she was likely to stay, and Mary Jane was very happy and proud, too, to tell her all about it.

“Look what’s here,” shouted Ann, when she had heard the main part of the story. “First ride, first ride, first ride!”

She raced over to a corner of the yard where a new lot of playground equipment had been set up. There were slides and merry-go-rounds and a tall teeter-totter that one had to reach far, oh, so very far, to get hold of.

Ann grabbed one end of the swaying teeter, and Mary Jane ran to the other. It was easy for Ann—she got hold while the thing was still in motion from the folks who had played on it just before. But Mary Jane couldn’t anywhere near reach it, for Ann held it firmly by her end and made Mary Jane’s end stick up too high in the air.

“I’ll hold you,” suggested Janny. She grabbed Mary Jane around the hips and lifted with all her strength. Mary Jane jumped too, and together they managed so she could touch the handle. One more try and she got her fingers firmly around the handle and lifted herself right out of Janny’s arms.

Ugh! It felt queer when Ann dropped down and lifted Mary Jane high up. But it was fun to come down to the ground with a bang and send Ann screaming high as high could be. Up and down the girls went, screaming and laughing by turns till Betty, a bit impatient at not doing something herself, found how the new merry-go-round worked and sent it dashing round and round.

Ann heard her laughter and immediately wanted to do whatever Betty was doing, so she simply let go the teeter while Mary Jane was up high. Of course Mary Jane fell ’ksmash to the ground, the handles of the teeter bumping her loudly on the head.

“Mary Jane’s killed! Look at Mary Jane!” shouted Janny in dismay. Tom, the janitor, came running; Miss Treavor, the first grade teacher, who happened to be at her window, hurried out, and everything was in commotion.

But Mary Jane wasn’t as hurt as it appeared. She rubbed her bruised head, looked around rather dazedly, and then said, “Well, anyway, it didn’t spoil my butterflies!” Those butterflies on her dress were her particular pride, as she had watched them grow under her mother’s skillful fingers.

“Are you sure you are all right?” asked Miss Treavor, passing her fingers carefully over Mary Jane’s head to make sure about bumps.

“Why, here’s a great big welt!” she exclaimed, as her sensitive fingers located a bruised swelling. “You come right in with me, dear, and we’ll put cold water on it.”

“And, Tom,” she added, as she tucked Mary Jane’s hand under her arm, “while we’re gone, please tell the children how to work that teeter. It’s what is called a ‘fire’ teeter. Listen carefully, every one of you, while Tom tells you about it.”

“You never get off,” began Tom, “without yelling ‘fire!’”

“But why do we want to yell ‘fire,’” asked practical Betty, “when there isn’t any fire?”

“That’s just the game,” laughed Tom, much puzzled as to how to explain. “You call ‘fire’ because you want to give a warning that you are getting off. You see, if somebody jumps off without a warning, the other fellow gets a fall just as Mary Jane did. But if Ann had called ‘fire!’ Mary Jane would have known she was letting go, and could have braced herself for a fall. Then she would have held tight and the handles wouldn’t have hit her either. Now you folks be sure to tell all the other girls that this is a ‘fire’ teeter, and they are never to get off without calling. Otherwise, we’ll have nothing but bumped heads from morning till night,” he added, as he walked off.

In the schoolhouse Mary Jane was being given first aid. Miss Treavor tied her own apron, that she brought to school to wear while tidying up desk or closet or doing board work, around Mary Jane’s neck, so water wouldn’t spill all around. Then she dipped a cloth in cold water, squeezed it out well and laid it on the bump. My! But it did feel good! For, by this time, Mary Jane’s head was beginning to ache, and the bump to throb and feel very miserable. But Miss Treavor changed the cloth as fast as it got warm, and in five minutes Mary Jane felt fine as ever.

“Now I can run along,” said Mary Jane, remembering that on the first day of school, Miss Treavor must have many duties. “I mustn’t bother you too long.”

“You’re not bothering me one bit,” replied Miss Treavor kindly, “but maybe you would rather I went on with my work. And you can hold the cloth and watch—both at the same time.”

Miss Treavor checked over her list of pupils with the cards of admission. Then she wrote some letters on the board. Then she got out hand work for afternoon. And first thing either of them knew, Mary Jane had forgotten all about her hurt and the cold cloth and everything, and was helping pass hand work and having a beautiful time.

Suddenly there was a voice at the door, and Mary Jane, from the far corner of the room where as it happened she couldn’t see the door, heard her mother say, “I’m sorry to bother you, Miss Treavor, but can you tell me how badly my little girl is hurt and where she is?” Anxiety was shown in her tense voice and excited manner.

“She isn’t hurt at all—not any more,” said Miss Treavor, while Mary Jane at the very same minute exclaimed, “Why, mother! How did you know?”

“Betty came running home,” explained Mrs. Merrill, “and said Mary Jane had a fall and was so badly hurt she was taken into the schoolhouse, and I have hurried here as fast as ever I could.”

“Betty was right as far as she knew,” said Miss Treavor. “But before telling anyone, she should have found out the rest.” Then she hastily explained about the fall from the new teeter, the bump and the cold water treatment. “And I think your little girl is about as good as new now, and she can take off her apron and run along with you. Thank you, Mary Jane, dear, for helping me so much. Be sure to tell your mother right away about your new grade.”

Mary Jane and Mrs. Merrill bade Miss Treavor a grateful good-by, and then they went home together, Mary Jane chatting happily all the way.

Mrs. Merrill was glad to hear of Mary Jane’s promotion, and was sure that if her little girl tried her hardest, she could stay in the new room.

“I don’t want to hurry you through school, to be sure,” she explained, “but I know how happy you will be to be with your friends. And I am sure you must be able to do the work—at least the reading, and that is very important—or the principal would not have sent you there. But what do you want to do now?” she asked, kindly, as Mary Jane hesitated before turning into the door of their apartment.

“You know you’ve said, mother,” began Mary Jane, doubtfully, “that it is very nice to let folks know you like things they do for you.”

“Yes,” agreed Mrs. Merrill, “that’s very true.”

“And you know Miss Treavor was awfully nice,” continued Mary Jane, “she couldn’t have been any nicer if she had tried.”

“I’m sure of that,” said Mrs. Merrill.

“Then couldn’t we send her a fern for her room?” asked Mary Jane. “She wants a fern so much. She had one last year and it was too big to take home to her house. So she paid Tom money to have him water it for her, and then when he was away in the summer, his helper forgot it and the fern died. Miss Treavor felt so sorry about it, she told me.”

“I think that is a fine idea,” said Mrs. Merrill, much pleased. “I’m glad to have you so thoughtful of the pleasure of others. Last spring there were very good ferns at that little greenhouse only two blocks away. We will walk right over there and order one before we get back to work.”

Mary Jane loved going into a greenhouse—and this place was a real greenhouse, not a shop where only cut flowers were sold. The owner let his two customers go back where the ferns were growing and select one that should be exactly to Mary Jane’s liking.

“Now may I take it to her this afternoon?” asked Mary Jane when the selection was made.

“Goodness! No!” exclaimed Mrs. Merrill. “That’s much too heavy for you to carry.”

“But how will Miss Treavor know it is from me?” asked Mary Jane, worriedly.

“You will write on a card,” said her mother.

“They are here,” added the greenhouse man, pointing to a neat little card in the corner of the tiny office. “You write whatever you like and we take it with the fern.”

Mary Jane sat down at the desk and wrote in her very best handwriting:

“For Miss Treavor. From the bump and butterfly girl.”

“She will know who that is,” she explained as her mother tucked the card in a tiny envelope and handed it to the man, “because she liked my butterflies and she cured my bump. Now may I go home and play with Betty?”

“We surely will go home at once,” said Mrs. Merrill. “But don’t you think a certain little girl had better unpack the tray of her trunk before lunch, and then be free to play this afternoon?”

“I just naturally forgot about my trunk,” sighed Mary Jane. “Mother, would you guess we were coming in from the country only yesterday? It seems the longest time already!”

Mary Jane loved to unpack a trunk, or to pack one either, for that matter. So soon she was busily occupied straightening ribbons into their proper places, sorting Georgiannamore’s belongings, and getting her share of the room tidy. Alice had already been at work a half an hour, so it didn’t take long to finish the job.

Not one minute after the last thing was in place, Mary Jane heard Betty call out back, so she ran to the little balcony to see what was wanted.

“My auntie got a letter this morning,” began Betty, “and she’s going to have a wedding. It’s the auntie who was here last spring. And she’s going to have us in it, Mary Jane. You’n’me, she is.”

Mary Jane nearly tumbled over herself in her eagerness to get downstairs and hear all about such news.