“It was one of your mother’s aprons8 when she was a little girl, Emily,” said Aunt Laura comfortingly, and rather sentimentally9.
“Then,” said Emily, uncomforted and unsentimental, “I don’t wonder she ran away with Father when she grew up.”
Aunt Elizabeth finished buttoning the apron and gave Emily a none too gentle push away from her.
“Put on your sunbonnet,” she ordered.
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“Oh, please, Aunt Elizabeth, don’t make me wear that horrid10 thing.”
Aunt Elizabeth, wasting no further words, picked up the bonnet5 and tied it on Emily’s head. Emily had to yield. But from the depths of the sunbonnet issued a voice, defiant11 though tremulous.
“Anyway, Aunt Elizabeth, you can’t boss God,” it said.
Aunt Elizabeth was too cross to speak all the way to the schoolhouse. She introduced Emily to Miss Brownell, and drove away. School was already “in,” so Emily hung her sunbonnet on the porch nail and went to the desk Miss Brownell assigned her. She had already made up her mind that she did not like Miss Brownell and never would like her.
Miss Brownell had the reputation in Blair Water of being a fine teacher—due mainly to the fact that she was a strict disciplinarian and kept excellent “order.” She was a thin, middle-aged12 person with a colourless face, prominent teeth, most of which she showed when she laughed, and cold, watchful13 grey eyes—colder even than Aunt Ruth’s. Emily felt as if those merciless agate14 eyes saw clean through her to the core of her sensitive little soul. Emily could be fearless enough on occasion; but in the presence of a nature which she instinctively15 felt to be hostile to hers she shrank away in something that was more repulsion than fear.
She was a target for curious glances all the morning. The Blair Water school was large and there were at least twenty little girls of about her own age. Emily looked back curiously16 at them all and thought the way they whispered to each other behind hands and books when they looked at her very ill-mannered. She felt suddenly unhappy and homesick and lonesome—she wanted her father and her old home and the dear things she loved.
“The New Moon girl is crying,” whispered a black-eyed girl across the aisle17. And then came a cruel little giggle18.
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“What is the matter with you, Emily?” said Miss Brownell suddenly and accusingly.
Emily was silent. She could not tell Miss Brownell what was the matter with her—especially when Miss Brownell used such a tone.
“When I ask one of my pupils a question, Emily, I am accustomed to having an answer. Why are you crying?”
There was another giggle from across the aisle. Emily lifted miserable19 eyes and in her extremity20 fell back on a phrase of her father’s.
“It is a matter that concerns only myself,” she said.
A red spot suddenly appeared in Miss Brownell’s sallow cheek. Her eyes gleamed with cold fire.
“You will remain in during recess21 as a punishment for your impertinence,” she said—but she left Emily alone the rest of the day.
Emily did not in the least mind staying in at recess, for, acutely sensitive to her environment as she was, she realized that, for some reason she could not fathom22, the atmosphere of the school was antagonistic23. The glances cast at her were not only curious but ill-natured. She did not want to go out to the playground with those girls. She did not want to go to school in Blair Water. But she would not cry any more. She sat erect24 and kept her eyes on her book. Suddenly a soft, malignant25 hiss26 came across the aisle.
“Miss Pridey—Miss Pridey!”
Emily looked across at the girl. Large, steady, purplish-grey eyes gazed into beady, twinkling, black ones—gazed unquailingly—with something in them that cowed and compelled. The black eyes wavered and fell, their owner covering her retreat with another giggle and toss of her short braid of hair.
“I can master her,” thought Emily, with a thrill of triumph.
But there is strength in numbers and at noon hour Emily found herself standing27 alone on the playground
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facing a crowd of unfriendly faces. Children can be the most cruel creatures alive. They have the herd28 instinct of prejudice against any outsider, and they are merciless in its indulgence. Emily was a stranger and one of the proud Murrays—two counts against her. And there was about her, small and ginghamed and sunbonneted as she was, a certain reserve and dignity and fineness that they resented. And they resented the level way she looked at them, with that disdainful face under cloudy black hair, instead of being shy and drooping30 as became an interloper on probation31.
“You are a proud one,” said Black-eyes. “Oh, my, you may have buttoned boots, but you are living on charity.”
Emily had not wanted to put on the buttoned boots. She wanted to go barefoot as she had always done in summer. But Aunt Elizabeth had told her that no child from New Moon had ever gone barefoot to school.
“Oh, just look at the baby apron,” laughed another girl, with a head of chestnut32 curls.
Now Emily flushed. This was indeed the vulnerable point in her armour33. Delighted at her success in drawing blood the curled one tried again.
“Is that your grandmother’s sunbonnet?”
There was a chorus of giggles34.
“Oh, she wears a sunbonnet to save her complexion,” said a bigger girl. “That’s the Murray pride. The Murrays are rotten with pride, my mother says.”
“You’re awful ugly,” said a fat, squat35 little miss, nearly as broad as she was long. “Your ears look like a cat’s.”
“You needn’t be so proud,” said Black-eyes. “Your kitchen ceiling isn’t plastered even.”
“And your Cousin Jimmy is an idiot,” said Chestnut-curls.
“He isn’t!” cried Emily. “He has more sense than any of you. You can say what you like about me but you are not going to insult my family. If you say one
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more word about them I’ll look you over with the evil eye.”
Nobody understood what this threat meant, but that made it all the more effective. It produced a brief silence. Then the baiting began again in a different form.
“Can you sing?” asked a thin, freckled36 girl, who yet contrived37 to be very pretty in spite of thinness and freckles38.
“No,” said Emily.
“Can you dance?”
“No.”
“Can you sew?”
“No.”
“Can you cook?”
“No.”
“Can you knit lace?”
“No.”
“Can you crochet39?”
“No.”
“Then what can you do?” said the freckled-one in a contemptuous tone.
“I can write poetry,” said Emily, without in the least meaning to say it. But at that instant she knew she could write poetry. And with this queer unreasonable40 conviction came—the flash! Right there, surrounded by hostility41 and suspicion, fighting alone for her standing, without backing or advantage, came the wonderful moment when soul seemed to cast aside the bonds of flesh and spring upward to the stars. The rapture42 and delight on Emily’s face amazed and enraged43 her foes44. They thought it a manifestation45 of Murray pride in an uncommon46 accomplishment47.
“You lie,” said Black-eyes bluntly.
“A Starr does not lie,” retorted Emily. The flash was gone, but its uplift remained. She looked them all over with a cool detachment that quelled48 them temporarily.
“Why don’t you like me?” she asked directly.
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There was no reply. Emily looked straight at Chestnut-curls and repeated her question. Chestnut-curls felt herself compelled to answer it.
“Because you ain’t a bit like us,” she muttered.
“I wouldn’t want to be,” said Emily scornfully.
“Oh, my, you are one of the Chosen People,” mocked Black-eyes.
“Of course I am,” retorted Emily.
She walked away to the schoolhouse, conqueror49 in that battle.
But the forces against her were not so easily cowed. There was much whispering and plotting after she had gone in, a conference with some of the boys, and a handing over of bedizened pencils and chews of gum for value received.
An agreeable sense of victory and the afterglow of the flash carried Emily through the afternoon in spite of the fact that Miss Brownell ridiculed51 her for her mistakes in spelling. Miss Brownell was very fond of ridiculing52 her pupils. All the girls in the class giggled53 except one who had not been there in the morning and was consequently at the tail. Emily had been wondering who she was. She was as unlike the rest of the girls as Emily herself, but in a totally different style. She was tall, oddly dressed in an overlong dress of faded, striped print, and barefooted. Her thick hair, cut short, fluffed out all around her head in a bushy wave that seemed to be of brilliant spun54 gold; and her glowing eyes were of a brown so light and translucent55 as to be almost amber56. Her mouth was large, and she had a saucy57, pronounced chin. Pretty she might not be called, but her face was so vivid and mobile that Emily could not drag her fascinated eyes from it. And she was the only girl in class who did not, sometime through the lesson, get a barb58 of sarcasm59 from Miss Brownell, though she made as many mistakes as the rest of them.
At recess one of the girls came up to Emily with a box
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in her hand. Emily knew that she was Rhoda Stuart and thought her very pretty and sweet. Rhoda had been in the crowd around her at the noon hour but she had not said anything. She was dressed in crispy pink gingham; she had smooth, lustrous60 braids of sugar-brown hair, big blue eyes, a rose-bud mouth, doll-like features and a sweet voice. If Miss Brownell could be said to have a favourite it was Rhoda Stuart, and she seemed generally popular in her own set and much petted by the older girls.
“Here is a present for you,” she said sweetly.
Emily took the box unsuspectingly. Rhoda’s smile would have disarmed61 any suspicion. For a moment Emily was happily anticipant as she removed the cover. Then with a shriek62 she flung the box from her, and stood pale and trembling from head to foot. There was a snake in the box—whether dead or alive she did not know and did not care. For any snake Emily had a horror and repulsion she could not overcome. The very sight of one almost paralyzed her.
A chorus of giggles ran around the porch.
“Before I’d be so scared of an old dead snake!” scoffed63 Black-eyes.
“Can you write poetry about that?” giggled Chestnut-curls.
“I hate you—I hate you!” cried Emily. “You are mean, hateful girls!”
“Calling names isn’t ladylike,” said the Freckled-one. “I thought a Murray would be too grand for that.”
“If you come to school to-morrow, Miss Starr,” said Black-eyes deliberately64, “we are going to take that snake and put it around your neck.”
“Let me see you do it!” cried a clear, ringing voice. Into their midst with a bound came the girl with amber eyes and short hair. “Just let me see you do it, Jennie Strang!”
“This isn’t any of your business, Ilse Burnley,” muttered Jennie, sullenly65.
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“Oh, isn’t it? Don’t you sass me, Piggy-eyes.” Ilse walked up to the retreating Jennie and shook a sunburned fist in her face. “If I catch you teasing Emily Starr to-morrow with that snake again I’ll take it by the tail and you by your tail, and slash66 you across the face with it. Mind that, Piggy-eyes. Now you go and pick up that precious snake of yours and throw it down on the ash pile.”
Jennie actually went and did it. Ilse faced the others.
“Clear out, all of you, and leave the New Moon girl alone after this,” she said. “If I hear of any more meddling67 and sneaking68 I’ll slit69 your throats, and rip out your hearts and tear your eyes out. Yes, and I’ll cut off your ears and wear them pinned on my dress!”
Cowed by these ferocious70 threats, or by something in Ilse’s personality, Emily’s persecutors drifted away. Ilse turned to Emily.
“Don’t mind them,” she said contemptuously. “They’re jealous of you, that’s all—jealous because you live at New Moon and ride in a fringed top-buggy and wear buttoned boots. You smack71 their mugs if they give you any more of their jaw72.”
Ilse vaulted73 the fence and tore off into the maple74 bush without another glance at Emily. Only Rhoda Stuart remained.
“Emily, I’m awful sorry,” she said, rolling her big blue eyes appealingly. “I didn’t know there was a snake in that box, cross my heart I didn’t. The girls just told me it was a present for you. You’re not mad at me, are you? Because I like you.”
Emily had been “mad” and hurt and outraged75. But this little bit of friendliness76 melted her instantly. In a moment she and Rhoda had their arms around each other, parading across the playground.
“I’m going to ask Miss Brownell to let you sit with me,” said Rhoda. “I used to sit with Annie Gregg but
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she’s moved away. You’d like to sit with me, wouldn’t you?”
“I’d love it,” said Emily warmly. She was as happy as she had been miserable. Here was the friend of her dreams. Already she worshipped Rhoda.
“We ought to sit together,” said Rhoda importantly. “We belong to the two best families in Blair Water. Do you know that if my father had his rights he would be on the throne of England?”
“England!” said Emily, too amazed to be anything but an echo.
“Yes. We are descended77 from the kings of Scotland,” said Rhoda. “So of course we don’t ’sociate with everybody. My father keeps store and I’m taking music lessons. Is your Aunt Elizabeth going to give you music lessons?”
“I don’t know.”
“She ought to. She is very rich, isn’t she?”
“I don’t know,” said Emily again. She wished Rhoda would not ask such questions. Emily thought it was hardly good manners. But surely a descendant of the Stuart kings ought to know the rules of breeding, if anybody did.
“She’s got an awful temper, hasn’t she?” asked Rhoda.
“No, she hasn’t!” cried Emily.
“Well, she nearly killed your Cousin Jimmy in one of her rages,” said Rhoda. “That’s true—Mother told me. Why doesn’t your Aunt Laura get married? Has she got a beau? What wages does your Aunt Elizabeth pay your Cousin Jimmy?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well,” said Rhoda, rather disappointedly. “I suppose you haven’t been at New Moon long enough to find things out. But it must be very different from what you’ve been used to, I guess. Your father was as poor as a church mouse, wasn’t he?”
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“My father was a very, very rich man,” said Emily deliberately.
Rhoda stared.
“I thought he hadn’t a cent.”
“Neither he had. But people can be rich without money.”
“I don’t see how. But anyhow, you’ll be rich some day—your Aunt Elizabeth will likely leave you all her money, Mother says. So I don’t care if you are living on charity—I love you and I’m going to stick up for you. Have you got a beau, Emily?”
“No,” cried Emily, blushing violently and quite scandalized at the idea. “Why, I’m only eleven.”
“Oh, everybody in our class has a beau. Mine is Teddy Kent. I shook hands with him after I’d counted nine stars for nine nights without missing a night. If you do that the first boy you shake hands with afterwards is to be your beau. But it’s awful hard to do. It took me all winter. Teddy wasn’t in school to-day—he’s been sick all June. He’s the best-looking boy in Blair Water. You’ll have to have a beau, too, Emily.”
“I won’t,” declared Emily angrily. “I don’t know a thing about beaux and I won’t have one.”
Rhoda tossed her head.
“Oh, I s’pose you think there’s nobody good enough for you, living at New Moon. Well, you won’t be able to play Clap-in-and-clap-out if you haven’t a beau.”
Emily knew nothing of the mysteries of Clap-in-and-clap-out, and didn’t care. Anyway, she wasn’t going to have a beau and she repeated this in such decided78 tones that Rhoda deemed it wise to drop the subject.
Emily was rather glad when the bell rang. Miss Brownell granted Rhoda’s request quite graciously and Emily transferred her goods and chattels79 to Rhoda’s seat. Rhoda whispered a good deal during the last hour and Emily got scolded for it but did not mind.
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“I’m going to have a birthday party the first week in July, and I’m going to invite you, if your aunts will let you come. I’m not going to have Ilse Burnley though.”
“Don’t you like her?”
“No. She’s an awful tomboy. And then her father is an infidel. And so’s she. She always spells ‘God’ with a little ‘g’ in her dictation. Miss Brownell scolds her for it but she does it right along. Miss Brownell won’t whip her because she’s setting her cap for Dr. Burnley. But Ma says she won’t get him because he hates women. I don’t think it’s proper to ’sociate with such people. Ilse is an awful wild queer girl and has an awful temper. So has her father. She doesn’t chum with anybody. Isn’t it ridic’lus the way she wears her hair? You ought to have a bang, Emily. They’re all the rage and you’d look well with one because you’ve such a high forehead. It would make a real beauty of you. My, but you have lovely hair, and your hands are just lovely. All the Murrays have pretty hands. And you have the sweetest eyes, Emily.”
Emily had never received so many compliments in her life. Rhoda laid flattery on with a trowel. Her head was quite turned and she went home from school determined80 to ask Aunt Elizabeth to cut her hair in a bang. If it would make a beauty of her it must be compassed somehow. And she would also ask Aunt Elizabeth if she might wear her Venetian beads81 to school next day.
“The other girls may respect me more then,” she thought.
She was alone from the crossroads, where she had parted company with Rhoda, and she reviewed the events of the day with a feeling that, after all, she had kept the Starr flag flying, except for a temporary reverse in the matter of the snake. School was very different from what she had expected it to be, but that was the way in life, she had heard Ellen Greene say, and you just had to make the best of it. Rhoda was a darling; and there
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was something about Ilse Burnley that one liked; and as for the rest of the girls Emily got square with them by pretending she saw them all being hanged in a row for frightening her to death with a snake, and felt no more resentment82 towards them, although some of the things that had been said to her rankled83 bitterly in her heart for many a day. She had no father to tell them to, and no account book to write them out in, so she could not exorcise them.
She had no speedy chance to ask for a bang, for there was company at New Moon and her aunts were busy getting ready an elaborate supper. But when the preserves were brought on Emily snatched the opportunity of a lull84 in the older conversation.
“Aunt Elizabeth,” she said, “can I have a bang?”
Aunt Elizabeth looked her disdain29.
“No,” she said, “I do not approve of bangs. Of all the silly fashions that have come in now-a-days, bangs are the silliest.”
“Oh, Aunt Elizabeth, do let me have a bang. It would make a beauty of me,—Rhoda says so.”
“It would take a good deal more than a bang to do that, Emily. We will not have bangs at New Moon—except on the Molly cows. They are the only creatures that should wear bangs.”
Aunt Elizabeth smiled triumphantly85 around the table—Aunt Elizabeth did smile sometimes when she thought she had silenced some small person by exquisite86 ridicule50. Emily understood that it was no use to hope for bangs. Loveliness did not lie that way for her. It was mean of Aunt Elizabeth—mean. She heaved a sigh of disappointment and dismissed the idea for the present. There was something else she wanted to know.
“Why doesn’t Ilse Burnley’s father believe in God?” she asked.
“’Cause of the trick her mother played him,” said Mr. Slade, with a chuckle87. Mr. Slade was a fat, jolly-looking
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old man with bushy hair and whiskers. He had already said some things Emily could not understand and which had seemed greatly to embarrass his very lady-like wife.
“What trick did Ilse’s mother play?” asked Emily, all agog88 with interest.
Now Aunt Laura looked at Aunt Elizabeth and Aunt Elizabeth looked at Aunt Laura. Then the latter said:
“Run out and feed the chickens, Emily.”
Emily rose with dignity.
“You might just as well tell me that Ilse’s mother isn’t to be talked about and I would obey you. I understand perfectly89 what you mean,” she said as she left the table.
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1
poking
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| n. 刺，戳，袋 vt. 拨开，刺，戳 vi. 戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
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avid
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| adj.热心的；贪婪的；渴望的；劲头十足的 | |
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3
seething
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| 沸腾的，火热的 | |
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apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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bonnet
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| n.无边女帽；童帽 | |
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indignity
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| n.侮辱，伤害尊严，轻蔑 | |
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7
rebellious
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| adj.造反的，反抗的，难控制的 | |
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8
aprons
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| 围裙( apron的名词复数 )； 停机坪，台口（舞台幕前的部份） | |
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9
sentimentally
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| adv.富情感地 | |
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10
horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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defiant
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| adj.无礼的，挑战的 | |
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middle-aged
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| adj.中年的 | |
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watchful
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| adj.注意的，警惕的 | |
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agate
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| n.玛瑙 | |
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instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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17
aisle
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| n.（教堂、教室、戏院等里的）过道，通道 | |
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giggle
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| n.痴笑，咯咯地笑；v.咯咯地笑着说 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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extremity
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| n.末端，尽头；尽力；终极；极度 | |
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recess
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| n.短期休息，壁凹（墙上装架子，柜子等凹处） | |
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fathom
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| v.领悟，彻底了解 | |
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antagonistic
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| adj.敌对的 | |
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erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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malignant
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| adj.恶性的，致命的；恶意的，恶毒的 | |
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hiss
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| v.发出嘶嘶声；发嘘声表示不满 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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herd
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| n.兽群，牧群；vt.使集中，把…赶在一起 | |
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29
disdain
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| n.鄙视，轻视；v.轻视，鄙视，不屑 | |
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drooping
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| adj. 下垂的，无力的 动词droop的现在分词 | |
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probation
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| n.缓刑(期)，(以观后效的)察看；试用(期) | |
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chestnut
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| n.栗树，栗子 | |
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armour
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| （=armor）n.盔甲；装甲部队 | |
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giggles
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| n.咯咯的笑( giggle的名词复数 )；傻笑；玩笑；the giggles 止不住的格格笑v.咯咯地笑( giggle的第三人称单数 ) | |
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35
squat
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| v.蹲坐，蹲下；n.蹲下；adj.矮胖的，粗矮的 | |
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freckled
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| adj.雀斑；斑点；晒斑；（使）生雀斑v.雀斑，斑点( freckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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contrived
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| adj.不自然的，做作的；虚构的 | |
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freckles
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| n.雀斑，斑点( freckle的名词复数 ) | |
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crochet
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| n.钩针织物；v.用钩针编制 | |
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40
unreasonable
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| adj.不讲道理的，不合情理的，过度的 | |
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41
hostility
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| n.敌对，敌意；抵制［pl.］交战，战争 | |
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42
rapture
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| n.狂喜；全神贯注；着迷；v.使狂喜 | |
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43
enraged
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| 使暴怒( enrage的过去式和过去分词 )； 歜； 激愤 | |
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44
foes
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| 敌人，仇敌( foe的名词复数 ) | |
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45
manifestation
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| n.表现形式；表明；现象 | |
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46
uncommon
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| adj.罕见的，非凡的，不平常的 | |
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accomplishment
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| n.完成，成就，（pl.）造诣，技能 | |
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quelled
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| v.（用武力）制止，结束，镇压( quell的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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conqueror
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| n.征服者，胜利者 | |
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ridicule
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| v.讥讽，挖苦；n.嘲弄 | |
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ridiculed
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| v.嘲笑，嘲弄，奚落( ridicule的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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ridiculing
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| v.嘲笑，嘲弄，奚落( ridicule的现在分词 ) | |
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giggled
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| v.咯咯地笑( giggle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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spun
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| v.纺，杜撰，急转身 | |
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translucent
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| adj.半透明的；透明的 | |
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amber
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| n.琥珀；琥珀色；adj.琥珀制的 | |
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saucy
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| adj.无礼的；俊俏的；活泼的 | |
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barb
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| n.（鱼钩等的）倒钩，倒刺 | |
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sarcasm
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| n.讥讽，讽刺，嘲弄，反话 （adj.sarcastic） | |
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lustrous
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| adj.有光泽的；光辉的 | |
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disarmed
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| v.裁军( disarm的过去式和过去分词 )；使息怒 | |
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shriek
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| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
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scoffed
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| 嘲笑，嘲弄( scoff的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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sullenly
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| 不高兴地，绷着脸，忧郁地 | |
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slash
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| vi.大幅度削减；vt.猛砍，尖锐抨击，大幅减少；n.猛砍，斜线，长切口，衣衩 | |
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meddling
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| v.干涉，干预（他人事务）( meddle的现在分词 ) | |
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sneaking
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| a.秘密的，不公开的 | |
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slit
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| n.狭长的切口；裂缝；vt.切开，撕裂 | |
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ferocious
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| adj.凶猛的，残暴的，极度的，十分强烈的 | |
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smack
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| vt.拍，打，掴；咂嘴；vi.含有…意味；n.拍 | |
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jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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vaulted
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| adj.拱状的 | |
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maple
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| n.槭树，枫树，槭木 | |
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outraged
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| a.震惊的，义愤填膺的 | |
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friendliness
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| n.友谊，亲切，亲密 | |
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descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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chattels
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| n.动产，奴隶( chattel的名词复数 ) | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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beads
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| n.（空心）小珠子( bead的名词复数 )；水珠；珠子项链 | |
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resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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rankled
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| v.（使）痛苦不已，（使）怨恨不已( rankle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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lull
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| v.使安静，使入睡，缓和，哄骗；n.暂停，间歇 | |
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triumphantly
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| ad.得意洋洋地；得胜地；成功地 | |
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exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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chuckle
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| vi.／n.轻声笑，咯咯笑 | |
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agog
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| adj.兴奋的，有强烈兴趣的； adv.渴望地 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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