Part 9 (2/2)
The result was that for a whole week the children nearly ran mad, and attention to object, or any other lessons, was a thing impossible to secure; and once every day--sometimes twice--Mr Chute was obliged to go into the girls' school and confide to Miss Thorne the fact that he should be heartily glad when it was all over.
Hazel Thorne partic.i.p.ated in his feelings, but she did not feel bound to go to the boys' school to impart her troubles, having terrible work to keep her scholars to their tasks.
For to a little place like Plumton the preparations were tremendously exciting, and between school hours, and afterwards, the entrance to Mr William Forth Burge's garden was besieged with anxious sightseers, the wildest rumours getting abroad amongst the children, who were ready to believe a great deal more than they saw, though they had ocular demonstration that a large marquee was being erected, that ropes were stretched between the trees for flags, that four large swings had been made; and as for the contents of that marquee the most extravagant rumours were afloat.
One thing was notable in spite of the inattention, and that was the fact that the schools were wonderfully well filled by children, who came in good time, and who duly paid their pence, many of the scholars having been absentees for months, some since the last school-treat, but who were coming ”regular now, please, teacher.”
The morning had arrived when, after receiving strict orders to be at the schools punctually at eleven, fully half the expected number were at the gates by nine, clamouring for admittance; and at last the noise grew so loud that Mrs Thorne cast an appealing look at her daughter, and sighed.
”Ah, Hazel,” she murmured, ”if you had only listened to poor Mr Geringer, we should have been spared this degradation.”
”Oh, hush, dear,” whispered Hazel. ”Pray say no more. Indeed I don't mind, and the poor children seem so happy.”
”But I mind it, Hazel,” sighed Mrs Thorne. ”It is a degradation indeed. Of course you will not be expected to walk with the children as far as those people's?”
”Oh, yes,” said Hazel, trying to speak lightly. ”They are all going in procession with flags and banners.”
”Flags _and_ banners, Hazel?” exclaimed Mrs Thorne, with a horrified look.
”Yes, dear. Mr Burge wants to give the children a great treat, and there is to be a bra.s.s band that he has engaged on purpose. I have just had a note from Miss Burge. She says her brother wished to keep it a secret to the last.”
”But not a regular bra.s.s band, Hazel?”
”Yes, dear. It will be at the head of the procession, and the children are to be marched all round the town.”
”But not a bra.s.s band with a big drum, my dear? Surely not. Don't say with a big drum?”
”Really, mother, dear, I don't know,” replied Hazel, bending down and kissing her. ”I suppose so.”
”Thank Heaven, that my poor husband was spared all this!”
”Oh, hush, dear,” whispered Hazel piteously.
”But you will not stoop to walk round the town with them, Hazel? And surely you are never going to put that ridiculous bunch of cowslips in your dress?”
”Mother, dear,” said Hazel quietly, ”I am the mistress of the girls'
school, and it is my duty to walk with them. I am going to wear the bunch of spring flowers, for they were brought for me by the girls, who will all wear a bunch like it. Here is a bouquet, though, that Mr Burge has sent for the mistress out of his greenhouse. I suppose I must carry that in my hand.”
”Oh, my poor girl! my poor girl!”
”Now, mother, dear mother, do not be so foolish,” said Hazel. ”Why should I be ashamed to walk with my girls? Are we not living an honourable and independent life, and is it not ten thousand times better than eating the bread of charity?”
”Ah me! ah me!” sighed Mrs Thorne.
”Now, dear, you will dress and come up to the treaty and I will see that you are comfortable.”
”I come? No, no, no!”
<script>