CHAPTER XI
Gipsy turns Champion
EACH Form at Briarcroft had its own teacher, but in addition there werea certain number of visiting masters and mistresses who came out fromGreyfield to give lessons at the school. A few were popular, some weretolerated, and one or two were cordially disliked. Among those who hadthe ill fortune to encounter strong opposition was Fraeulein Hochmeyer,the singing mistress. She was a most conscientious teacher and a clevermusician, but so intensely German in both accent and methods that sheoffended the British susceptibilities of her pupils, and inspired moreridicule than respect. Poor Fraeulein meant so well, it was really veryhard that her efforts did not meet with better results. She treated herclasses exactly as she would have dealt with similar ones in Germany;but what might have pleased apple-cheeked, pig-tailed Gretchens did notat all suit the taste of the Briarcroft-ites, particularly the membersof the Lower School. They refused even to smile at her heavy Teutonicjokes, mocked her accent, rebelled at the numerous German songs theywere expected to learn, whispered, giggled, and talked during thelesson, and generally made it extremely difficult for her to keeporder. In vain she alternately pleaded, conciliated, flustered, fumed,and even threatened. The girls would not behave seriously, and thoughthey did not deign to laugh at her attempts at humour, they treated heras a joke. As she was decidedly stout and rosy they nicknamed her"German Sausage", and made fun of her almost to her face.
A part of Fraeulein Hochmeyer's system of voice production which herpupils much detested was learning the proper position of the mouth. Itwas of course a most important and necessary part of the lesson, butowing to the way it was enforced the silly girls turned it all intoridicule. Fraeulein would stand upon the platform giving a practicaldemonstration to show how the lips must be well drawn back, revealingthe teeth parted about the third of an inch, so as to offer noobstruction to the free passage of the voice; and she would require herpupils to stand at attention with their mouths thus fixed beforebeginning the preliminary exercises.
"We look like a set of grinning imbeciles!" complained Lennie Chapman,"with Sausage for the arch-lunatic of us all. I wish to goodness we hada decent English teacher! I don't like these foreign ways."
"You'd like it still less if you were turned into a pattern pupil likeme!" grumbled Gipsy. "I hate making an exhibition of myself."
Gipsy, being an apt copyist, was able to set her mouth at exactly theright angle, and in consequence her approving teacher would frequentlybeckon her on to the platform with the invitation:
"Dear friendt, com here and show ze ozers how you do open ze mouz."
The letters "th" were an impossibility to Fraeulein's German tongue, andthe girls giggled continually at the "z's" that replaced them. Gipsy wasnot at all proud of being forced to set an example to the class, andwould ascend the platform with an ill grace, and look the reverse offlattered at the encouraging pats that were bestowed upon her shoulders.Really Fraeulein had the kindest heart in the world, and tried, in herheavy fashion, to be on excellent terms with her pupils, but she did notin the least comprehend the mind of the British schoolgirl.
"She treats us exactly as if we were kindergarten babies!" sneered HettyHancock. "I don't know how German girls of our age would enjoy her sillyjokes, but I think she's a rotter!"
"And she's so sentimental!" hinnied Daisy Scatcherd. "I nearly had a fitwhen she began to troll out that love song, with her hand laidtouchingly on her heart."
"That sort of rubbish may go down in the Fatherland, but it doesn'there."
The girls had waxed restive at many of the _Lieder_ which they wereobliged to learn, but when Fraeulein turned up one morning with a volumeof songs of her own composition, their discontent verged towards mutiny.
"Ze original vords are, of course, in German," explained Fraeulein, "butI have had a translation made for you by a friendt of mine, and it issehr gut. Ze first it is a cradle song. Now, I ask has any girl in zeclass got at home a leetle, leetle brozer or sister?"
"I have," volunteered Mary Parsons bluntly. "A brother."
"And how old?"
"Six months."
"Ach! Zat is beautiful! You shall sing zis song to ze leetle baby in zecradle, vile you rock him gently, gently, till he sleep!" and Fraeuleingazed ecstatically at Mary, as if calling up a mental picture of hersisterly attention.
"He'd soon squall if I did!" grunted Mary to her neighbour, who explodedaudibly.
"You, who are not so all-fortunate as to have a baby in ze home, mustsing it to ze child of a neighbour," went on Fraeulein, evidentlydetermined that the value of the lullaby should receive a practicaltrial.
"And what are we boarders to do?" enquired Lennie Chapman ironically.
"Sing it to the cat!" whispered Hetty, whereat the bystanders tittered.
"You've stumped her there!" murmured Fiona.
Fraeulein certainly for a moment looked a little at a loss, but she soonrecovered her presence of mind.
"Vait till ze holidays, zen you sall see!" she returned with an engagingsmile. "I shall now sing von or two of ze lieder to you, to show you vatzey are like."
The music of the songs was beautiful, that was allowed by even the mostunappreciative of the girls. There was a joyous lilt and a true melodyabout them that put them high in the rank of composition, and theaccompaniments played with Fraeulein's delicate touch were harmonious andsuitable. The words, unfortunately, were childish in the extreme, andmore fit for youngsters of five than girls of eleven to fourteen. Eventhe members of the Lower Third turned up supercilious noses. They werefurther marred by Fraeulein's accent, and when she unctuously rendered
"Hush, my baby, sweetest, best, Little mousie's gone to rest",
as
"Hosh, my baby, sveetest, best, Leetle moozie's gone to rest",
a ripple of mirth passed round the class.
Having gone through one or two as specimens, Fraeulein selected thelullaby and set the girls to work at it. I am afraid that, instead ofdoing their best, they only sang in mockery. Fiona Campbell made apretence cradle of her arm, and rocked it for Mary Parsons' benefit; andGipsy put an amount of sham sentiment into her execution calculated toconvulse the others. At the end of the lesson the class trooped away ina state of frank rebellion.
"Really, this is too much!" protested Dilys Fenton. "We can't beexpected to sing her silly songs."
"It's just baby nonsense!" exclaimed Norah Bell.
"The music's pretty," said Joyce Adamson.
"Oh, yes, the music--but look at the words!" scoffed Gipsy, turning overthe pages of the new copies. "Did you ever see anything so absolutelyidiotic in all your life as this?
"'Old hare's little son Is up to good fun, And skipping and prancing He's bent upon dancing. Just see how he spins On his dear little pins!'"
"It's an affront to ask us to learn such rubbish!" declared the outragedgirls. "We shall really have to speak to Poppie about it."
"Yes, a good idea! Let's complain to Poppie."
"If she'll listen."
"She's not generally so ready to hear our grievances."
"Well, something will have to be done, for we can't go on week afterweek with this baby stuff. It's like turning back to one's ABC. Ideclare we'd more sensible songs when I was in the Kindergarten."
"I'll take my book home, and perhaps I can get my mother to write aletter to Poppie about it," suggested Mary Parsons.
"You! Why, you're the one who's to sit serenading over your infantbrother's cradle!"
"Perhaps Sausage will bring a doll to school next week and make uspractise with it in turns! She'd be quite capable of it," sniggeredMaude Helm.
Nobody plucked up sufficient courage to interview Miss Poppleton on thesubject. It is one thing for schoolgirls to growl, and quite another toventure to remonstrate with the Principal about the lessons. MissPoppleton was not an approachable person, and except in extreme casesher pupils
did not venture to get up deputations. Gipsy voiced theopinions of the class, however, in airing their grievances to MissEdith, and gave her an animated account of their special bug-bear, thenew song book.
"Oh, dear me, Gipsy! I'm very sorry!" said Miss Edith, puckering up herforehead anxiously. "I'm afraid you girls behave very badly in thesinging class. You ought to have more respect for Fraeulein Hochmeyer. Ihope Mary Parsons' mother won't write about it. It puts Miss Poppletonin a most awkward position when parents make complaints. We don't wantto change our singing mistress, Fraeulein's system of voice production isso very good. She was a pupil of Randegger, I believe. There's no otherfirst-class teacher in Greyfield either except Mr. Johnson, and hedoesn't take half the trouble with his pupils that Fraeulein does. I wishyou girls would try to appreciate her more."
Gipsy screwed up her mouth and looked humorous in reply.
"But she's a beautiful character, if you only knew!" urged Miss Edith."She's so simple and kind-hearted; and she works so hard! She has aninvalid father to keep. He's quite dependent on her, I believe. Theylive in lodgings in Greyfield. I'm sure I'm often sorry for her, goingabout to her pupils in all weathers. It's too bad of you girls to makesuch fun of her! She's a stranger in a strange land, poor thing, with nofriends here, and her living to make. Girls are a thoughtless set, asI've found out long ago. You might try to have a little moreconsideration for her, Gipsy. Just imagine yourself in her place, andfancy you were teaching a class of German girls! Yes, as I said before,I'm sorry for Fraeulein Hochmeyer. She has a hard time of it."
Gipsy said nothing, but she retired with ample food for thought. It hadnever struck her before to take the view of Fraeulein that Miss Edith hadjust presented. The little foreign peculiarities and eccentricities hadexcited her mirth, but she had quite missed the sterling good qualitiesthat lay underneath them. "'A stranger in a strange land, with nofriends here'--I know what that means!" muttered Gipsy to herself. "It'sbrave of her to work to keep her father! Don't I just wish I--" but hereshe sighed, for the unuttered wish seemed so entirely hopeless andfutile.
After revolving the matter carefully, Gipsy made up her mind thatFraeulein Hochmeyer deserved to be helped instead of hindered.
"Though how I'm to do it when she insists on forcing those absurd babysongs upon us, I can't tell. Stop! I've an idea. Oh, I don't knowwhether I can, but I mean to have a jolly good try! No time like thepresent. I've half an hour before tea." And furnishing herself withpencil and paper, she ran up to her attic, and was soon puckering herbrows in the agonies of composition. As the result of that and severalother half-hours of work, she covered two pages of foolscap; then,seeking out Miss Edith, she unfolded her scheme and begged for help.
"I'm afraid you'll think it fearful cheek of me," she began, "but yousee the trouble at present in the singing class is that we all abominatethose silly little songs. They really sound foolish for girls of ourage. Of course Fraeulein's composed them herself, and the tunes are verynice. Do you think she'd mind changing the words? It wouldn't matter toher what we were singing so long as the music was the same, would it?But it would make all the difference to us. I made up a few verses thatgo with the tunes just as well. They're here, if you don't mind lookingat them," and Gipsy modestly unfolded her manuscript. "This one'sinstead of
"'Old hare's little son Is up to good fun.'
I've called it 'The End of the Term'
"'Now classes are done And vacation's begun, Of fun and of leisure We'll have our full measure. For it's hip, hip, hooray For a long holiday!
"'So to lessons goodbye, While to pleasure we fly. No rules now need bind us, All care's cast behind us. For it's hip, hip, hooray For a long holiday!'"
Then there's one instead of that dreadful
"'Little Freddie had run to his nurse, Because his poor headache was worse,'"
continued Gipsy. "I've called it 'Briarcroft'.
"'There's a school near the edge of the fell, That all of us girls know full well, For at Briarcroft Hall There's a place for us all, And the tale of its fame we would tell.
_Chorus_
"'So hurrah! for the dear old School! We'll make it a general rule That we Briarcroft-ites Shall stand up for its rights, And be true to the dear old School!
"'There are teachers we love and revere, And customs and ways we hold dear. Give a clap for each one, And a cheer when you've done, For all who have worked with us here.
_Chorus_
"'So hurrah! for the dear old School! We'll make it a general rule That we Briarcroft-ites Shall stand up for its rights, And be true to the dear old School!'"
"Very creditable, Gipsy. Really not at all bad," commented Miss Edith.
"I know they're not up to much," said Gipsy apologetically, "but oh!Miss Edith, I believe the girls would much rather sing them than theother words. They're about the school, you see. I daren't ask Fraeuleinmyself; do you think you could?" and Gipsy turned quite red at theboldness of her own suggestion.
"It might be a good idea. Give me the paper, and I'll see what I cando."
"Oh, thanks so much! I hope Fraeulein won't be offended."
Miss Edith's gentle tact could often accomplish things where othermeasures might have failed. Nobody ever heard how she explained thesituation and persuaded Fraeulein Hochmeyer to adopt the alterations, butbefore the next singing lesson all the obnoxious song books werecollected and Gipsy's versions, neatly printed by hand on slips ofpaper, were pasted over the old words of the two songs in question.
"I hear you not like to sing about hares and babies?" commentedFraeulein. "So! It must be all about school? Yes. You have among you vonwho can write in verse" (nodding cheerily to the abashed Gipsy). "Myfriendt, you shall make for us some more verses to suit ze ozer songs!"
Having determined to act as Fraeulein's champion, Gipsy tried her utmostto sway popular opinion in favour of the luckless singing mistress. Itwas a far harder task, though, than she had anticipated, and put herpowers of leadership to a severe test. It had been easy enough to inducethe Juniors to stand up for their own rights, but it was considerablymore difficult to make them realize anybody else's claims toconsideration.
"Do let's be nice to her!" pleaded Gipsy. "She's really a very decentsort on the whole. She can't help being a foreigner and talking with aqueer accent."
"Why, you were the first to make fun of her last week," objected some ofthe girls.
"I know, but it was rather horrid. Her story's quite romantic, don't youthink?"
"Can't see much romance about our homely German Sausage!" giggled DaisyScatcherd.
"Put a bunch of forget-me-nots in her hair, and she'll look a heroine!"tittered Norah Bell.
"Yankee Doodle, when you ride a hobby you ride it to death! What'sinduced you to take such a sudden and violent affection for theSausage?"
"You'll be standing perennially on the platform now, holding your teethlike a dentist's advertisement, to show us how to 'open ze mouz'!"
"I wish you'd revise the schoolbooks and cut out the difficult parts!"
"Go on! Rag me as much as you like. I don't care!" retorted Gipsysturdily.
"I've brought this picture of a sausage," piped one of the smallergirls. "I'm going to pin it on to the piano. She knows we call her'Sausage'! She'll be in such a rage!"
"You little horror!" said Gipsy, seizing the picture and tearing it intoshreds before the eyes of its enraged owner.
On the whole, though her championship was treated as a joke, Gipsy'sinfluence had a beneficial effect, and the general behaviour in thesinging class began steadily to improve. Her Briarcroft songs wereappreciated, and the girls sang them lustily and trolled out the choruswith vigour. The tun
es were very catchy and bright, and everybody seemedconstantly to be humming them, in season or out of season.
"Your 'Hurrah! for the dear old School!' has got in my brain, YankeeDoodle," said Mary Parsons. "It haunts me all day long, and I can't getrid of it."
"We'll sing it in the lecture hall on the last day of the term. Poppie'dbe quite flattered," said Hetty Hancock.
"With a special cheer for Fraeulein Hochmeyer, then!" added Gipsy.
The Leader of the Lower School: A Tale of School Life Page 14