CHAPTER IV.
A RAINY DAY.
"'One by one the sands are flowing,'--comma-- One by one the moments fall;'--semicolon-- 'Some are coming,'--comma; 'some are going;'--semicolon-- 'Do not strive to grasp them all,'--period."
dictated Miriam to a group of girls in the school-room, who were"cramming" for the February examination, and who had hurried back atdinner time for that purpose.
"What a queer jumble that makes!" said Winnie. "I believe I'd rathercopy it from the book. Don't you think that last line's odd?--'Do notstrive to grasp them all.' I thought that was just what we ought to do,isn't it?"
"I asked Miss Brownlow that question yesterday," said Ernestine Alroy, atall, pale and thoughtful-looking girl, "and she said that Miss Procterdidn't mean that we were to let any of them go, but that we are not totry to seize them all at once; that it would be like anything else--ifour hands were too full, we'd be sure to drop something. She said wemust take this 'Memory Gem' in connection with the motto on the board,'Do the duty that lies nearest thee,' and that if we followed the advicein both of them, we'd be sure not to let any of our duties go undone."
"Ernestine, you always did like to preach," said Josie Thompson, makinga wry face over the pickle she was eating. "I think it's quite badenough to have to learn Memory Gems, with all the hideous punctuation,and expect to stand an examination--and they always pick out the one youknow the least about--with five per cent. off for a comma left out orput in the wrong place, ten for a misspelled word, and so on until, bythe time my 'Gems' are corrected, there's no per cent. left at all. Isay all this is bad enough, without having to understand and explainthem." And she stopped to take breath, quite exhausted by her longspeech.
"Perhaps, if you troubled yourself a little more about the meaning,you'd get higher marks occasionally," said Miriam.
"Oh, who cares for marks anyhow? I'm getting sick of the eternal word'Duty!' Miss Brownlow never misses an occasion to make use of it. Thenwe're always learning some selection with the same word in it, and nowyou girls have taken it up and there's no knowing if you will ever stop.As for me, I'm going to enjoy myself while I'm young. I guess I'll livejust as long, if I don't worry myself to death."
The brighter girls laughed, and Miriam said, with quick mimicry, "Ithink you will live just as long, if you don't worry yourself to death.What a speech! Well, I think you're right; you'll live forever, if worryis the only thing that can kill."
"Well, laugh as much as you please; you can all plod along, if you wantto. I'm going to have a good time."
"It is hard, though," said Winnie, plaintively; "it's much nicer to dothe things we like to do than those we ought to do, especially when noneof us want to do things that are very wrong."
"It's harder to catch up," said Ernestine, "than to keep straight on;and I think if we'd all pray for help not to neglect our duties, we'dfind it easier."
None of the girls laughed at this, for Ernestine was so devoted to herideas of religion, and so brave in the profession of them, that ifshe thought it was her duty, she would have knelt down right there andprayed aloud for them all.
"Well, this isn't learning the 'Gem,'" said Fannie Allen decisively; andthen for a few moments nothing was heard but the scratching of pencils,as Miriam went on dictating:
"One by one thy duties wait thee, Let thy whole strength go to each, Let no future dreams elate thee, Learn thou first what these can teach."
After the bell had rung for school to commence, the afternoon woredismally away. A steady, drenching rain was pouring down as if itintended never to stop. Under the circumstances there could be norecess, which added to the general feeling of weariness, restlessnessand disgust.
Each recitation was a recapitulation, which made the more studious orthose with the better memories feel as if there were "nothing newunder the sun," and gave to the triflers, or those to whom study was acontinual climbing of the "Hill Difficulty," a confused impression ofhearing something they had heard before, but failed to remember justwhen or where or how.
To add to the discomfort, there was much copying to be done from theblackboard, and, as it was dark and gloomy, there was a complaint ofnot being able to see, until the front seats were filled with a crowd oftired, discontented girls, with their young faces puckered up into allsorts of frowns and grimaces. Even the best-natured among the teacherswere conscious of an utter failure to keep from showing irritation,and they were made to sigh for a royal road both to learning and toteaching. It was with a general sigh of relief that the bell announcingthe hour of dismission was heard.
But the discomfort was not yet over. The halls and dressing-rooms werefilled with an odor of wet wool and rubber; rain-cloaks and rubbers wereconfusedly mixed, and Miss Brownlow reminded the complainers, in a mostirritating manner, of the number of times she had urged them all to marktheir gossamers and overshoes, and positively forbade them to expect anyinterference from her if anything were lost. Then some of the girlsran down stairs, and all were ordered back; and, it being impossible todistinguish the culprits, the innocent suffered with the guilty, so thatit was nearly five o'clock before they were finally allowed to descendthe stairs, and they had been hearing the exasperating shouts of freedomfrom the boys under the windows for a full half hour.
Miriam and Winnie, walking home under the same umbrella, felt theirdesire to be good and the courage to strive for it, at the lowest ebb.Winnie said petulantly, "I wish there were no such thing as school! It'sdig, dig, dig, and then it's cram, cram, cram, until, at last, you don'tknow whether you know anything or not! I'm just sick of it!"
"You'd feel more disagreeable if you'd lost the third pair of rubbersthis winter, and had wet feet. I don't see why it is that it's always myrubbers that are gone, anyway. Mamma will say that I grow more heedlessevery day of my life; that I never will learn to take care of anything;and will wonder if I think papa is a millionaire. I wish now that I'dmarked that last pair of rubbers."
"Oh, dear! It's so hard to do right, and not to feel hateful and cross.Everyone seems to get cross but Ernestine. But then, none of the restare as good as she is. I don't believe she ever feels like doing wrong;and she always seems happy, too; not peevish or sulky like the rest ofus. Do you suppose--"
But just then, too absorbed to notice where they were going, they ranagainst an old gentleman, and their umbrella was knocked out of theirhands into the gutter, where, of course, it was soon all wet and muddy.
Too absorbed to notice where they were going.]
Then the old gentleman sputtered and scolded, and said he wished littlegirls would look where they were going once in a while, and that theywere nothing but "giggling nuisances" anyhow. Then Miriam dropped herbooks, and, as both she and Winnie stooped to pick them up, they knockedtheir heads together with such force that tears sprang to the eyes ofboth.
As a usual thing, such occurrences would have made them laugh, but theywere far enough from being "giggling nuisances" on this occasion, andwhen they turned the corner and separated, it would not have been easyto find two muddier or crosser little girls, while both, I fear, hadforgotten all about the giants they were intending to fight.
When Winnie reached home, she spoke to Ralph so crossly, when he ran upto her for a kiss, that his lips trembled and he turned to Mrs. Burton,saying, "Mamma, is me bad? 'Innie 'ouldn't tiss me!"
Winnie, at sight of his grieved face, began to feel ashamed of herself,but was still too cross to make any acknowledgments, and, without sayinga word, went up to her room to change her muddy dress.
When she came down, Mrs. Burton looked at her searchingly, but askedno questions, and it was not until after supper that Winnie feltsufficiently herself to tell her mother about the disagreeableafternoon. Mrs. Burton only said: "Well, Winnie,--
'Into each life some rain must fall. Some days be dark and dreary,'
but I hope my daughter isn't going to grow up into one of thoseunpleasant women who always make it disagreeable for other people whenthin
gs do not turn out just as they would like to have them."
The Girl Warriors: A Book for Girls Page 4