Читать книгу Маленькие женщины / Little Women. Уровень 3 - Луиза Мэй Олкотт, Луиза Мэй Олкотт, Mybook Classics - Страница 8

Amy was rather late at school, but could not resist the temptation of displaying a brown-paper parcel. During the next few minutes the rumor that Amy March had got twenty-four delicious limes and was going to treat circulated through her friends and became quite overwhelming. Katy Brown invited her to her next party on the spot. Mary Kingsley insisted on lending her watch till recess, and Jenny Snow promptly buried the hatchet[17] and offered to furnish answers to some sums. But Amy instantly crushed ‘that Snow girl's’ hopes by the withering telegram, “You needn't be so polite all of a sudden, for you won't get any.”

Alas, alas! The revengeful Snow turned the tables[18] with disastrous success. During the lesson, under pretense of asking an important question, she informed Mr. Davis, the teacher, that Amy March had pickled limes in her desk. Now Mr. Davis had declared limes a contraband article.

Soon as he heard the word ‘limes', his face flushed.

“Young ladies, attention, if you please!”

Fifty pairs of blue, black, gray, and brown eyes were fixed upon him.

“Miss March, come to the desk.”

Amy rose, but the limes weighed upon her conscience.

“Bring with you the limes you have in your desk.”

Amy laid themt down before Mr. Davis.

“Is that all?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now take these disgusting things two by two, and throw them out of the window.”

Scarlet with shame and anger, Amy went to and fro six dreadful times. As Amy returned from her last trip, Mr. Davis gave a portentous “Hem!” and said, in his most impressive manner…

“Young ladies, you remember what I said to you a week ago. I am sorry this has happened, but I never allow my rules to be broken, and I never break my word. Miss March, hold out your hand.”

Amy started, and put both hands behind her.

“Your hand, Miss March!”

Amy threw back her head defiantly, stretched out her hand and bore without flinching several blows on her little palm. They were neither many nor heavy, but that made no difference to her. For the first time in her life she had been struck, and the disgrace, in her eyes, was as deep as if he had knocked her down.

“You will now stand on the platform till recess,” said Mr. Davis.

That was dreadful. Taking her place, she fixed her eyes on the stove funnel above what now seemed a sea of faces, and stood there, motionless. During the fifteen minutes that followed, the proud and sensitive little girl suffered a shame and pain which she never forgot.

The fifteen minutes seemed an hour, but they came to an end at last.

“You can go, Miss March,” said Mr. Davis, looking, as he felt, uncomfortable.

He did not soon forget the reproachful glance Amy gave him, as she went, without a word to anyone, snatched her things, and left the place “forever,” as she passionately declared to herself. She was in a sad state when she got home, and when the older girls arrived, some time later, an indignation meeting was held at once. Mrs. March did not say much but looked disturbed, and comforted her daughter.

“Yes, you can have a vacation from school, but I want you to study a little every day with Beth,” said Mrs. March that evening. “I dislike Mr. Davis's manner of teaching and don't think the girls you associate with are doing you any good, so I shall ask your father's advice before I send you anywhere else.”