Читать книгу Mary Jane at School - Clara Ingram Judson - Страница 5

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BETTY would not tell another thing till Mary Jane came and sat on the back steps, and till Betty’s auntie came out and talked to them.

“Do you like to hear about a wedding?” asked Miss Howard. “So do I—and so do most of us. Well, Mary Jane, you see it’s this way.

“I was going to be married on New Year’s Day, and have a church wedding and everything. And now this morning, while I had come a-visiting, I got a letter saying that the man I am going to marry has been ordered to the Philippines—had anyone told you he is in the army? Well, he is. And he goes way off there in October. So, of course, I want to go, too.”

The Philippines sounded rather far off to Mary Jane, who hadn’t the faintest notion where they were, but going there couldn’t be so very bad, for Miss Howard looked awfully pleased about it.

“So we’re going to have a tiny wedding,” Miss Howard went on.

“That’s exactly what you are not going to have,” said Mrs. Holden firmly. She had come out onto the porch just in time to hear that last sentence. “There’s a whole month and if we all help, we can get out cards in a week, and you shall have a church wedding, with Betty and Mary Jane to be flower girls, and Alice and Frances to be ribbon-bearers, and all your girl friends around you exactly as you had planned for New Year’s Day.”

“Oh, do you really think so?” exclaimed Miss Howard, happily.

As for Mary Jane, her eyes were fairly popping out—to be in a wedding! Wouldn’t that be fun! And Alice, too. And carry a basket of flowers maybe, just like folks in pictures she had seen! It seemed much too wonderful to be true.

“Of course I think so,” repeated Mrs. Holden. “Now you tell the girls what you had planned, and this afternoon we will tell Mrs. Merrill, and you can ’phone the four girls you had chosen for maids, and we’ll start the ball to rolling in a jiffy.”

Miss Howard was Mrs. Holden’s only sister, and as their father and mother were not living, Miss Howard felt as though her sister’s house was truly home. She taught at a school in Ohio and spent a part of every vacation with the Holdens. Of course, she had got acquainted with Mary Jane and Alice in the spring, and even though they had been away all summer, the Holdens had been away too, so fall and school brought them all back at once. Miss Howard had given up her school work as she needed the time to make ready for her wedding. She knew how Frances and Betty loved their neighbor chums and had planned to have the two Merrill girls share in the wedding.

Mary Jane and Betty kept as still as they could while the two sisters talked back and forth, making plans. The wedding was to be in the big stone church two blocks away, and would be in the evening. Mary Jane and Betty were to wear fluffy white dresses over apricot-colored silk (Miss Howard had had it all planned) and Frances and Alice were to wear dainty frocks of green, pale green, silk and carry the loops of white satin ribbon.

Mary Jane was so interested that she forgot all about school till her mother called over the balcony, “Mary Jane! Mary Jane! Lunch is ready! Come quickly or you will be late!”

Mary Jane scrambled out of the back gate, up the stairs, and into the kitchen, where she announced breathlessly, “I’m getting married and it’s apricot silk—Miss Howard said so. And Alice’s is green, and please, mother, may we, please?”

“Whatever in the world?” cried Mrs. Merrill, in amazement.

“They’re coming over this afternoon to tell you,” added Mary Jane, as she found a bit of breath while she washed her hands. “It’s Miss Howard and some place—some place—Phillip—something. And our church, where Alice and I go to Sunday School, and isn’t she nice to ask us?”

Gradually, between bites of sandwiches and sips of iced cocoa, Mary Jane told Alice and her mother all about the plans, as she understood them, and Mrs. Merrill promised to be at home all afternoon so as not to miss Miss Howard should she come to call, and to let the girls accept if it seemed at all possible. Alice was so excited she could hardly eat, but as the clock pointed to one, the girls had to leave in a hurry, and further talk about weddings must wait till later.

As Mary Jane went to her room she passed Miss Treavor, and Miss Treavor was so very happy about her new fern which had been delivered half an hour before.

“You were a darling to think about it, Mary Jane,” she said, “and I shall think of you all winter as I enjoy it daily. Thank you so much, and tell your mother ‘thank you,’ too. I shall write her a note this very evening.”

When Mary Jane reached her own room she found Miss Montrow waiting at the door for her.

“I was watching for you, Mary Jane,” she said, “because our principal wants this note taken around to every room, and I thought you would be a good one to do it. The note tells each teacher to announce how the new teeter is to be used. I hear you had a bad bump from the thing, and I thought you would be sure to know how important it is that every teacher, every single one in the building, gets this note at once. You may go as soon as the tardy bell rings.”

First bell rang and the pupils in the room began to study the spelling lesson Miss Montrow had put on the board. Then tardy bell rang, and at a signal from her teacher, Mary Jane started on her journey through the school building. My, how big and deserted it did seem when all the folks were in their rooms and the doors shut tight! It reminded the little girl of the time she got lost, when she was strange and new, in that same big place. That seemed a long time ago—Mary Jane was sure she would never again get lost in the schoolhouse; dear me, no!

She went into one room, the first on the right from her own; then to the next, and the next, till every room on that floor had been visited and every teacher had carefully read the note. Then she wondered—should she go up to the third floor next, or down to the first? She decided on the first, and promptly visited each and every room on the first floor. By this time it was nearly two o’clock. It certainly did take time to go into so many rooms as there were in that great schoolhouse.

Finally the first floor was finished and she climbed the two great flights of stairs to the third floor. She had never been up here before. There was an assembly hall somewhere, she had heard Alice tell about it, though the little folks’ rooms always assembled in the gymnasium, so Mary Jane had never been in this one herself. Into the room on the left she went first; then to another; and then to another. Then she came to two double doors. This didn’t seem like a room, but Miss Montrow had said “every room,” so Mary Jane thought she had better look to make sure. She opened the door, stepped inside, and saw it was the assembly hall. Why not look at it? She might not have another chance till she was in fifth grade herself. She slipped into the hall, looked at the seats, set tier upon tier, each higher than the other, peeped out of the windows so high, very high from the sidewalk below, and turned to go out and continue her tour from room to room.

But the door was locked. It had a spring catch, evidently, and had shut behind her. Mary Jane was locked into the assembly hall.

She ran hurriedly over to the door on the opposite side and tried it. Locked tight. No hope there. A careful investigation of the room failed to disclose any sign of a way to get out. Of course she could stamp on the floor. Or she could call. Maybe someone could hear that. Of course she could shout out of the window. But Mary Jane hated to do anything so noisy and disorderly as that. Anyway, why should she have been in there? How could she explain? Of course she was trying to make sure of getting into every room, but that was no reason for going on in when she saw at a glance there was no teacher there.

Up on a small platform at the front was a desk—a flat table desk, for the principal or teacher who was leading the assembly, apparently. Mary Jane idly looked it over, trying all the while to think up some way to get out without making a fuss.

A small electric button caught her eye. On the table desk, by a pile of books, was this small button, evidently connected with an electric bell. Why not ring that? Doubtless it was to call someone to the assembly hall. Perhaps someone would come and let her out. That was a much better plan than stamping or calling, or making a fuss and disturbing folks.

Eagerly she reached over and pressed the button a long ring. She waited a moment to make sure—yes it was ringing in the hall outside. Then partly because she was so excited and partly to make really sure that the bell was understood, she rang again—two short taps. Then she hurried over to the door and waited. She hadn’t long to wait, though, for as she reached the door, Ed opened it and said, “This way out, please. Walk. Do not run.” And he turned back to join a line forming in the hall. In very dignified order the children marched downstairs. Mary Jane slipped in behind the girls, noticing as she went down that every room was getting out, too.

“I didn’t know it was recess time this soon,” she thought as she marched down. “I guess I had better stop and give this paper to Miss Montrow. I might lose it in the yard.” At the second floor, she slipped out of line and started down the hall toward her own room, but a sharp voice called, “Stay in line, little girl! Keep your place!”

Startled, Mary Jane joined the line again and marched down the stairs and out into the yard.

“Where’s the fire?” shouted the boys. “Where’s the fire? I don’t see any smoke? Where’d you s’pose it is?”

“Fire, nothing!” said one of the bigger boys, “I’ll bet it’s a fake—a drill.”

Then Mary Jane noticed that the boys and girls were all together. They had not marched down as for recess, boys, one stairs; girls, another. They had marched down together, each room under the care of their teacher—that meant fire drill or a fire. Suppose it really was a fire? Suppose she had been locked up in the hall? Never again would she poke into doors and go where she had no business!

“How do you know it’s a fire?” anxiously asked one of the little girls who was new that day.

“That’s easy,” replied one of the bigger girls near at hand. “Didn’t you hear the bell? When that electric bell rings three—one long, pause, and two short—it’s fire drill. And out we come without stopping for a single thing.”

Mary Jane put her hands over her face to hide her shame. What had she done? What had she done? What had she done? Trying to get out of that hall without bothering folks—here she had rung the fire bell and brought the whole school out into the yard in the middle of the session! Could anything have been worse? And what in the world should she do?

Meanwhile the teachers, though a bit surprised at having fire drill on the first day, were quietly giving orders for the children to return to their rooms. In a miserable daze of confusion, Mary Jane found herself back in her room with the paper still clutched tightly in her hand.

“Did you get all through, Mary Jane?” asked Miss Montrow. “And don’t let a little thing like a fire drill frighten you so,” she added, noticing the child’s white face. “You skip along and finish your rooms, and then hurry back, for we’re going to do something interesting, and you want to be here.”

That kindness only made Mary Jane feel worse. The idea! Everybody so good to her and she ringing a fire bell! What should she do?

First there were the rest of the rooms to visit. Mary Jane did that.

By that time she had made up her mind what to do. She marched straight to the door of the principal’s office. She intended to tell exactly what she had done and face the consequences.