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Page 19
Betsy sighed, took out her third-grade reader, and went with the other
two up to the battered old bench near the teacher's desk. She knew all
about reading lessons and she hated them, although she loved to read.
But reading lessons ... ! You sat with your book open at some reading that
you could do with your eyes shut, it was so easy, and you waited and
waited and waited while your classmates slowly stumbled along, reading
aloud a sentence or two apiece, until your turn came to stand up and
read your sentence or two, which by that time sounded just like nonsense
because you'd read it over and over so many times to yourself before
your chance came. And often you didn't even have a chance to do that,
because the teacher didn't have time to get around to you at all, and
you closed your book and put it back in your desk without having opened
your mouth. Reading was one thing Elizabeth Ann had learned to do very
well indeed, but she had learned it all by herself at home from much
reading to herself. Aunt Frances had kept her well supplied with
children's books from the nearest public library. She often read three a
week--very different, that, from a sentence or two once or twice a week.
When she sat down on the battered old bench she almost laughed aloud, it
seemed so funny to be in a class of only three. There had been forty in
her grade in the big brick building. She sat in the middle, the little
girl whom the teacher had called Ellen on one side, and Ralph on the
other. Ellen was very pretty, with fair hair smoothly braided in two
little pig-tails, sweet, blue eyes, and a clean blue-and-white gingham
dress. Ralph had very black eyes, dark hair, a big bruise on his
forehead, a cut on his chin, and a tear in the knee of his short
trousers. He was much bigger than Ellen, and Elizabeth Ann thought he
looked rather fierce. She decided that she would be afraid of him, and
would not like him at all.
"Page thirty-two," said the teacher. "Ralph first."
Ralph stood up and began to read. It sounded very familiar to Elizabeth
Ann, for he did not read at all well. What was not familiar was that the
teacher did not stop him after the first sentence. He read on and on
till he had read a page, the teacher only helping him with the hardest
words.
"Now Betsy," said the teacher.
Elizabeth Ann stood up, read the first sentence, and paused, like a
caged lion pausing when he comes to the end of his cage.
"Go on," said the teacher.
Elizabeth Ann read the next sentence and stopped again, automatically.
"Go ON," said the teacher, looking at her sharply.
The next time the little girl paused the teacher laughed out good-
naturedly. "What is the matter with you, Betsy?" she said. "Go on till I
tell you to stop."
So Elizabeth Ann, very much surprised but very much interested, read on,
sentence after sentence, till she forgot they were sentences and just
thought of what they meant. She read a whole page and then another page,
and that was the end of the selection. She had never read aloud so much
in her life. She was aware that everybody in the room had stopped
working to listen to her. She felt very proud and less afraid than she
had ever thought she could be in a schoolroom. When she finished,
"You read very well!" said the teacher. "Is this very easy for you?"
"Oh, YES!" said Elizabeth Ann.
"I guess, then, that you'd better not stay in this class," said the
teacher. She took a book out of her desk. "See if you can read that."
Elizabeth Ann began in her usual school-reading style, very slow and
monotonous, but this didn't seem like a "reader" at all. It was poetry,
full of hard words that were fun to try to pronounce, and it was all
about an old woman who would hang out an American flag, even though the
town was full of rebel soldiers. She read faster and faster, getting
more and more excited, till she broke out with "Halt!" in such a loud,
spirited voice that the sound of it startled her and made her stop,
fearing that she would be laughed at. But nobody laughed. They were all
listening, very eagerly, even the little ones, with their eyes turned
toward her.
"You might as well go on and let us see how it came out," said the
teacher, and Betsy finished triumphantly.
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