Caps and Capers Part 8

It would have been difficult to find a more consummate teacher than Miss Preston, or one who, without their ever suspecting it, could so bring her girls up to the mark. It was a rare exception when she failed to accomplish her aim, and her tact was truly wonderful. There was rarely a harsh word spoken, although Miss Preston could speak sharply enough when occasion required. But she seldom felt that it did. She had most unique methods, and they proved wonderfully successful. Then, too, some very old-fashioned ideas were firmly imbedded in her mind, which in the present day and age are often forgotten. That bad spelling is a disgrace to any girl was one of these, and most n.o.bly did she labor to make such a disgrace impossible for any of her girls.

Knowing how cordially human nature detests doing the very thing best for it, she never had regular spelling lessons in the school, but twice a week every girl in it, big and little alike, gathered in the large a.s.sembly room to choose sides and spell each other down. So irresistibly funny were these spelling matches, and so admirably did they display Miss Preston's peculiar power over the girls, and their response to her wonderful magnetism, that I think they deserve a chapter to themselves.

CHAPTER XIII

ENGLISH AS SHE IS SPELLED

The last half hour before recess on Wednesdays and Fridays was the time set aside for the spelling matches. On Wednesday the words were chosen at random, sometimes from history, sometimes from geography, again from something which the cla.s.ses had been reading; but Friday's words were invariably a surprise.

One morning, immediately after the opening exercises were concluded, Miss Preston rang her bell, and, when the girls were all attention, said:

"It will be well for those girls who are to lead the opposing sides of the spelling match to-day to choose with exceptional ac.u.men--Annabel, spell that word!" So suddenly had the command been sprung upon her that, whatever knowledge poor Annabel might have possessed five seconds before, promptly flew straight out of her head, and she answered:

"_Ack.u.men._"

"Sorry I haven't time to pa.s.s it on just now, but I'll reserve that honor.

As I was saying, the heads had best keep their wits wide-awake, for I'm going to choose the words from a highly scientific and instructive volume to-day. It is called "How to Feed Children," and in this you will observe that I have a double object in view: to teach you which words, as well as the sort of food, to be digested. Wholesome instruction, my dears; and now to work, every woman Jill of you."

At ten-thirty all were again a.s.sembled in the big room, and a lively choosing of sides ensued. It was not by any means invariably the older girls who could spell best, for often some of the younger ones led them a fine race.

Taking up the brilliantly bound little book, Miss Preston said:

"Now, my friends, I hope you will look upon the cover of this book as a brilliant and rosy example of what I expect, and, I beg of you, do not disappoint me," holding up the bright red book for the inspection of all.

"Do not become excited, but learn to take a 'philosophical' view of it."

Miss Preston paused, and so well did the girls understand her original way of doing things that "philosophical" was at once essayed. The first attempt resulted in "_philosopical_."

"A little too suggestive of milk-toast, I'm afraid, Marion. We must have our philosophy upon a sound basis. Next."

Several words pa.s.sed successfully down the line until "course" was given, and when that was spelled "_cource_" Miss Preston's face was a study.

"That which we are most inclined to accept as a matter _of course_ we may be sure will prove a matter of mortification to us. Katherine, you are given to poetic flights. Who was it that said: 'The course of true love never did run smooth?' He would have had an opportunity to learn that there were also other courses which did not run smoothly had he followed--'pedagogy.'"

This proved a stumbling-block for the first girl, but the next one spelled it correctly.

"You see, Alma, that even the road thereto has its pitfalls, so take warning."

"Catch me ever teaching," was the half-audible reply, but softly as it was spoken sharp ears caught it.

"Posterity will be grateful for the blessings in store for it, 'undoubtedly.'"

The word fell to a little girl, but was rattled off as quick as a wink, to Miss Preston's great amus.e.m.e.nt, for the child was an ambitious little body who hated to be outdone by the big girls.

"Desirability" was the next word, and was given to one of the largest, although by no means the most brilliant, girls in the school.

She hesitated a moment, and then said: "If desire is spelled d-e-s-i-r-e, I suppose the other end of it will be a-b-i-l-i-t-y."

"A quality in which you are lacking," was the instantaneous retort. "If you desired it more, your ability would be greater."

When desirability had been successfully dealt with, ten or more words were happily disposed of, then came another poser in the form of 'physiognomical,' and the groans which greeted it foretold its fate.

"What does it _mean_, anyway, Miss Preston?" asked one girl.

"Well, there is more than one way of telling you its meaning, but I believe in simple explanations, so I will say, that when you all rush off to the cloak-room at one o'clock that it would be well for you to observe carefully the expression upon the other girl's face when you throw down her hat and coat in your eagerness to get your own first. You will then, doubtless, have an excellent opportunity to form a correct idea of the meaning of physiognomical. Then you may come and tell me whether you consider her character an angelic or impish one."

How well Miss Preston was aware of their besetting sins, and how shrewdly did she use them to their undoing.

I should never dare tell the wonderful combinations of letters which were brought together ere that dreadful word was spelled correctly; but such a rapid sitting down followed that a stranger coming suddenly upon them might have supposed that Miss Preston's girls were fainting one after another.

About fifty words, all told, were spelled with more or less success, and then came the grand summing up, and those girls who could not yield a clean record from beginning to end had to pay the penalty.

Not a very severe one, to be sure, but one they were not likely to forget, for each word that they had misspelled was written upon a good-sized piece of paper and pinned upon their b.r.e.a.s.t.s "as a reward of demerit," Miss Preston told them, and, although it was all done in fun and joked and laughed over at the time, each girl knew that those words must be thoroughly committed to memory before the Wednesday spelling match began its lively session, or her report at the end of the term would be lacking in completeness.

And so, between "jest and earnest," did Miss Preston handle her girls, drawing by gentleness from a sensitive nature, by firmness from a careless one, by sarcasm (and woe to the girl who provoked it, for it was, truly, "like a polished razor keen") from a flippant, and by one of her rare, sweet smiles from the ambitious all that was best to be drawn.

Toinette was naturally a remarkably bright girl, and possessed qualities of mind which only required gentle suggestions to develop their latent powers. Refined and delicate by nature, keen of comprehension, she slipped into her proper niche directly way was made for her, and filled it to her own credit and the satisfaction of others. Nor did it take Miss Preston long to discover that a delicately strung instrument had been placed in her hands, and that it must be touched with skillful fingers if its best notes were to be given forth.

The weeks slipped away, and winter, as though to pay up for its tardy arrival, came in earnest, bringing in February the heavy snowstorms one looks for much earlier in the season in this part of the globe. The girls hailed them with wild demonstrations, for snow meant sleigh-rides, and it is a frosty old codger who can frown and grumble at the sound of sleigh-bells.

CHAPTER XIV

"JINGLE BELLS, JINGLE BELLS"

One morning early in February the girls looked out of their windows to behold a wonderful new world--a white one to replace the dull gray one, which would have made their spirits sympathetically gray, perhaps, had they been older. But, happily, it must be a very smoky gray indeed that can depress fifteen.

"Quick, Edith, come and look!" and then, flying across the room, Ruth thumped upon Toinette's door, and called out: "Sleigh-bells! Sleigh-bells!

Don't you hear them?"

The snow had fallen steadily all night, piling up softly and silently the great white mounds, covering up unsightly objects, laying the downiest of coverlids upon the dull old world until it was hardly recognizable. Every ledge, every branch and tiny twig held its feathery burden, or shook it softly upon the white ma.s.s covering the ground. Hardly a breath of air stirred, and the fir trees looked as though St. Nick had visited them in the night to dress a tree for every little toddler in the land.

Down, down, down came the flakes, as though they never meant to stop, and as one threw back one's head to look upward at the millions of tiny feathers falling so gently, one seemed to float upward upon fairy wings and sail away, away into the realms of the Snow Maiden.

It was hard to keep one's wits upon one's work that day, and many a stolen glance was given to the fairy world beyond the windows of the recitation-rooms. About five o'clock the weather cleared, the sun setting in a glory of crimson and purple clouds. An hour later up came my lady moon, to smile approval upon the enchanting scene and hint all sorts of possibilities.

Lou Cornwall came flying into Toinette's room just after dinner to find it well filled with seven or eight others.

"May I come, too?" she asked. "Oh, girls, if we don't have a sleigh-ride to-morrow, I'll have a conniption fit certain as the world."

"Do you always have one when there is snow?" asked Toinette.

"Which, a sleigh-ride or a conniption fit?" laughed Lou. "You'd better believe we have sleigh-rides."