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Page 20
"WELL," said the teacher, "there's no sense in your reading along in the
third reader. After this you'll recite out of the seventh reader with
Frank and Harry and Stashie."
Elizabeth Ann could not believe her ears. To be "jumped" four grades in
that casual way! It wasn't possible! She at once thought, however, of
something that would prevent it entirely, and while Ellen was reading
her page in a slow, careful little voice, Elizabeth Ann was feeling
miserably that she must explain to the teacher why she couldn't read
with the seventh-grade children. Oh, how she wished she could! When they
stood up to go back to their seats she hesitated, hung her head, and
looked very unhappy. "Did you want to say something to me?" asked the
teacher, pausing with a bit of chalk in her hand.
The little girl went up to her desk and said, what she knew it was her
duty to confess: "I can't be allowed to read in the seventh reader. I
don't write a bit well, and I never get the mental number-work right. I
couldn't do ANYthing with seventh-grade arithmetic!"
The teacher looked a little blank and said: "_I_ didn't say anything
about your number-work! I don't KNOW anything about it! You haven't
recited yet." She turned away and began to write a list of words on the
board. "Betsy, Ralph, and Ellen study their spelling," she said. "You
little ones come up for your reading."
Two little boys and two little girls came forward as Elizabeth Ann began
to con over the words on the board. At first she found she was listening
to the little, chirping voices, as the children straggled with their
reading, instead of studying "doubt, travel, cheese," and the other
words in her lesson. But she put her hands over her ears, and her mind
on her spelling. She wanted to make a good impression with that lesson.
After a while, when she was sure she could spell them all correctly, she
began to listen and look around her. She always "got" her spelling in
less time than was allowed the class, and usually sat idle, looking out
of the window until that study period was over. But now the moment she
stopped staring at the board and moving her lips as she spelled to
herself the teacher said, just as though she had been watching her every
minute instead of conducting a class, "Betsy, have you learned your
spelling?"
"Yes, ma'am, I think so," said Elizabeth Ann, wondering very much why
she was asked.
"That's fine," said the teacher. "I wish you'd take little Molly over in
that corner and help her with her reading. She's getting on so much
better than the rest of the class that I hate to have her lose her time.
Just hear her read the rest of her little story, will you, and don't
help her unless she's really stuck."
Elizabeth Ann was startled by this request, which was unheard of in her
experience. She was very uncertain of herself as she sat down on a low
chair in the corner of the schoolroom away from the desks, with the
little child leaning on her knee. And yet she was not exactly afraid,
either, because Molly was such a shy little roly-poly thing, with her
crop of yellow curls, and her bright blue eyes very serious as she
looked hard at the book and began: "Once there was a rat. It was a fat
rat." No, it was impossible to be frightened of such a funny little
girl, who peered so earnestly into the older child's face to make sure
she was doing her lesson right.
Elizabeth Ann had never had anything to do with children younger than
herself, and she felt very pleased and important to have anybody look up
to HER! She put her arm around Molly's square, warm, fat little body and
gave her a squeeze. Molly snuggled up closer; and the two children put
their heads together over the printed page, Elizabeth Ann correcting
Molly very gently indeed when she made a mistake, and waiting patiently
when she hesitated. She had so fresh in her mind her own suffering from
quick, nervous corrections that she took the greatest pleasure in
speaking quietly and not interrupting the little girl more than was
necessary. It was fun to teach, LOTS of fun! She was surprised when the
teacher said, "Well, Betsy, how did Molly do?"
"Oh, is the time up?" said Elizabeth Ann. "Why, she does beautifully, I
think, for such a little thing."
"Do you suppose," said the teacher thoughtfully, just as though Betsy
were a grown-up person, "do you suppose she could go into the second
reader, with Eliza? There's no use keeping her in the first if she's
ready to go on."
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