02 Jo of the Chalet School (12 page)

‘To a hotel?’ demanded Joey eagerly.

‘Madge shook her head. ‘Not for worlds! No; we’re going to stay a week with the Mensches, and the rest of the time with the Maranis. The von Eschenaus have invited Juliet to go to them, and the Robin will come with us.’

‘What bout Grizel?’ asked Joey.

‘Grizel is going home to England,’ replied Madge. ‘Her grandmother is very ill, and has asked for her; so she is going, and will not return till the end of January. Mr and Mrs Stevens are coming to Salzburg; so Amy and Margia will go to them. There’ll only be the Robin with us, and you won’t mind her?’

‘Oh no! I love the Robin!’ said Jo gaily. ‘What a glorious time we shall have!’ Then her face fell. ‘I say!

Have I got to call you “Madame” all the hols?’

‘No. It won’t matter what you call me before the Mensches and the Maranis. I shouldn’t have accepted their invitation if I hadn’t been sure of that. But they are not girls who would take any advantage of such a thing; so it’s all right.’

‘Oh, good!’ sighed Joey. ‘It’s horrid sometimes when I want to talk to you, old thing, and I’ve got to remember that you’re my head-mistress!’

Madge laughed. ‘Poor old thing! Well, you needn’t worry during the holidays.’ ‘What about the Robin, though?’

‘The Robin has her own name for me. She told me quite seriously this morning that when it wasn’t school time, she would like to call me
Tante Marguerite
, as she hadn’t any aunts, and would like one!’

‘Shall you let her?’ asked Jo curiously.

‘Yes. The poor baby hasn’t any people of her own near her. If she wants to think of me as
ma tante
, I don’t mind in the least!’

‘It’ll seem
weird,’
commented Joey. ‘It must be rot –
horrid
for her!’

‘It will be worse if you teach her that awful slang of yours! Those little ones pick up everything they should not! I actually heard Renee Lecoutier describing Miss Durrant to Inga Eriksen as “a regular peacherino.”‘

Joey giggled appreciatively. ‘How priceless! That really was funny!’

‘I daresay. But I’ve said before I’m not going to have it, and I mean it!’

‘Well; but that wasn’t from
me
,’ protested Jo. ‘I never used such an expression in my life! It’s American!

She must have picked it up from Evadne!’

‘Quite possibly. But it doesn’t affect my point.’

There the conversation had ceased, and to-day Joey was back in school once more, and was received with acclamation, which she certainly didn’t deserve.

‘But it is delightful to have you back, my Jo!’ said Simone wistfully.

‘Splendid to se you again, old thing!’ was Grizel’s cheery greeting.

‘We have missed you,
mein Liebling
,’ observed Gisela.

Juliet said very little, but that night she crept into Jo’s cubicle when she came up to bed, to make sure that that restless young lady was well covered up.

It snowed all day, making yet deeper the deep mantle which lay on the land; but towards evening it ceased, and Bernhilda the weatherwise proclaimed that it was going to freeze, and that soon the lake would be fit for skating, provided no wind got up to ruffle the ice.

She was right. When they tumbled out of bed the next morning, every single liquid that was not near a stove was frozen like a stone. The lake lay black against the snow, and the snow itself was hard as a rock.

There was no wind, and the sky above was clear pale blue, and almost cloudless. The girls were overjoyed, especially the English girls, for they had never known a winter like this. In the houses the great porcelain stoves were kept at full pitch, and the windows were covered with marvellous fairy designs, through which it was impossible to see. Jo, with a vivid remembrance of Hans Andersen’s fairy-tales, warmed a penny and made little round holes on the panes, just as Kay and Gerda did, and the middles gazed out entranced on what she insisted on calling ‘Storybook-land.’

At twelve o’clock everyone wrapped up warmly and they went out and raced about, shouting and laughing. Even Jo, with ‘two of everything on, and one over, for luck, of some things!’ to quote herself, trotted forth to enjoy the fresh, icy air. The glare of the snow under the December sun was terrific, so they all wore coloured spectacles, and shrieked with laughter at each other.

‘We shall skate to-morrow,’ said Gisela, looking at the lake. ‘See! There are people on it already!’ And she pointed to the Seespitz end of the Tiern See, where two or three figures were to be seen circling about on the ice.

‘Gorgeous!’ cried Joey ecstatically. ‘I’ve never really skated in my life!’

‘Have you not?’ asked Wanda von Eschenau with wonder in her eyes. ‘But how strange!’

‘Not at all’ replied Jo. ‘We lived in the south of England, and there as never a long enough frost for the ice to reach the bearing stage – not that
I
can remember, anyway! Is it
frightfully
difficult to get your balance?’

The girls who were accustomed to skating every winter, and had been so from their earliest days, were rather nonplussed by this question, which they did not know how to answer.’

‘I do not think it is so very hard,’ said Bernhilda at length. ‘I do not remember.’

‘Here is Madam,’ said Gisela. ‘She comes to call you into the house, Joey!’

‘Blow!’ said Joey. ‘It’s quite warm in the sun!’

However, when Madge called her, she went obediently. The sister of the Head must certainly do as she was told, if anyone did; Jo knew that! Miss Bettany knew it too, and smiled as she looked at the rueful little face which was turned to her. ‘Sorry, Joey; but it’s too soon after your last cold to take any risks!’

‘It’s hard luck, all the same!’ sighed Jo. ‘Yes; I know it’s my own fault, but it doesn’t’ make it any nicer!

Can I skate to-morrow if the ice holds?’

‘We’ll see what you’re like after to-day,’ replied Madge cautiously. ‘I sha’n't promise you anything, Joey.

Now, run along!’

Jo ran into the chalet, and was met by Marie, bearing a large parcel. ‘For you, Fraulein Joey,’ she smiled.

‘For me?’ Joey stared. ‘Whatever is it?’ She examined the label. ‘”
Gerbruder Hertzing, Drucker”!
Oh!

It’s the magazines!
‘ She snatched the precious bundle from Marie. ‘How gorgeous! I didn’t think they’d be here so soon! Marie,
bringen Sie Fraulein Bettany! Beeilen Sie sich!’

Marie caught up her thick woollen skirt, and threw it over her shoulders, and dashed out into the snow, to return presently with an anxious-looking Madge. ‘Joey! What is it? Don’t you feel well?’ she demanded.

‘Goodness, yes! But look! The
Chaletian
has come! That’s why I wanted you!’

Miss Bettany drew a long breath of relief. ‘Oh, what a fright I got! Marie simply said you wanted me at once! I quite thought you must be feeling ill again!’

‘Well, I’m not! Come on! Let’s go into the study and look at them! I’m dying to see it – the first magazine I’ve ever edited in my life!’

They went into the study, Jo hugging the big parcel affectionately to her, and presently the brown paper covering was off, and there, before them, lay the first number of the
Chaletian
.

‘O-o-oh!’ sighed the editor ecstatically. ‘How splendacious!’ She picked up a copy and held in out to her sister. ‘There you are, Madame, the head-mistress! With the editor’s compliments!’

‘Jo, you
are
an idiot!’ declared Madge. ‘Don’t let the others see you like this!’

‘Let’s call them in to see it,’ suggested Jo.

‘The people responsible for Pages, if you like! I don’t want the whole school!’

Jo flew to the window and banged on it, till Gisela saw her frantic gestures and came to see if Madame had had a fit, or Marie had upset the dinner all over the floor. ‘
Was ist es?’
she demanded.

For answer Jo held up the
Chaletian
. The head girl’s eyes widened. Then she vanished, and they could hear her calling, ‘Bernhilda! Grizel! Bette!
Kommen sie! Das Chaletian ist hier!
‘

There as a wild rush as everyone surrounded her. The two people in the study couldn’t hear what was going on, but the rapid gestures and shrill voices were sufficient signs of their excitement. It was fairly obvious that they all wanted to come, and that Gisela was having hard work to prevent them. Miss Bettany decided to take a hand herself. ‘Run and find Miss Maynard and tell her, Joey,’ she said. ‘Ask her to come to the study, and I’ll fetch the others.’

Joey dashed off in the direction of the little music-room, and the Head strolled out to the excited girls, who welcomed her vociferously.

‘Madame! When may we see the Chaletian, please?’ asked Amy Stevens, running all her words into each other.

‘Oh,
please
will you that we may see it soon?’ begged Simone.

‘You shall all see it this afternoon,’ said Miss Bettany. ‘In the meantime, I want the magazine committee to come to see it now in my study. Oh, and while I remember, will you all please try to remember the rule about speaking English? I heard a good deal that was
not
English as I came up.’

She turned back to the Chalet, followed by the committee. Gisela left them, and ran on to join her headmistress. ‘Madame, I have spoken in German all the while! I am so sorry; please pardon me!’

‘I heard you,’ said Miss Bettany dryly. ‘Of course, if the head girl doesn’t remember, I can scarcely expect the other to do so, can I?’

Gisela coloured. ‘I know! Indeed, Madame, I am very sorry! Shall I enter my name in the Order Book?’

Miss Bettany shook her head. ‘No; don’t do that. It would be very bad for the juniors and the middles to see the head girl’s name there. But do remember that your position makes carelessness a serious matter.

Now go and get your things off and come along to my study.’

Gisela went as she was told, while the young head-mistress marched into the study, to find Miss Maynard already there, and Joey dancing up and down with impatience.

‘It looks very well, doesn’t it?’ said the mathematics mistress as she turned over a copy. ‘I thin the girls are to be congratulated.’

‘So do I,’ smiled Miss Bettany. ‘Jo, will you please cease those antics and go and sit down. -Come in!’ as a tap sounded at the door.

In response the members of the magazine committee solemnly filed into the room and sat down at her invitation. Then Joey doled out one copy each of the
Chaletian
, and there was silence while they all looked through it.

It was a very well-arranged little magazine and, for a first number, quite good. Jo’s Editorial, setting forth the aims and ideas of the
Chaletian
, was well written for a girl of thirteen, and very original. The School Notes, attended to by Gisela, were accurate, and their English would have shamed that of many English girls’ efforts –
did
shame Grizel’s Sports Notes. That young lady, in her attempt to avoid slanginess, had gone to the other extreme, and become almost unbearably stilted. The two mistresses were hard put to it to keep straight faces over such statements as, ‘Tennis has been most enjoyable during the past season,’ ‘All have endeavoured to do well in cricket,’ and the like, from slangy Grizel. Bernhilda’s narratives of how the Tiern See became a lake, and the origin of the Wolfenkopf, a grim, dark mountain-peak at the northern extremity of the lake, were interesting, but no one save Jo gave them more than a passing glance. Miss Durrant had contributed a delightful account of a summer school held by the English Folk Dance Society at Cambridge, and Mademoiselle had written a description of her own first term as a pupil in a big convent school in the south of France. But it was the Fiction Page which most interested the committee. At least ten girls had sent in contributions to this page, and four had been chosen by Joey for Miss Maynard to select from. As this had been done at the last minute, no one but she knew whose had been taken, so they were all agog to know. A groan of dismay went up as they discovered that the contributions had been printed unsigned, and only Jo and the authors themselves could know whose they were.

‘”The Wooden Bowl of Hans Sneeman,”‘ read Gisela. ‘But who, then, wrote that? It is a story of the Kobolds.’ She glanced up in time to catch the expression on Jo’s face. That young lady was staring at Miss Maynard with startled eyes and wide-open mouth. ‘Jo!’ exclaimed the head girl. ‘
You
have written it!’

‘But it is charming!’ cried Bernhilda, who had been eagerly reading it. ‘Joey, I make you my compliments!’

‘But – but -’ gasped Joey. ‘I never
gave
it to you, Miss Maynard. I didn’t give
any
thing!’

‘I know you didn’t,’ replied Miss Maynard calmly. ‘I found it lying on the floor under your desk one day, and liked it so much, I decided to use it.’

‘Splendid!’ Grizel put her word in. ‘It’s simply gorgeous, Jo! I can’t think how you did it!’

Jo remained dumbfounded. It was so unexpected that, for once, she hadn’t a word to say for herself, while the rest exclaimed delightedly over it.

It was a very simple little tale, following well-known lines. A poor forester met an old woman, who begged food and shelter form him. He had only a little log hut, and a wooden bowl he himself had made. In the bowl was a very little vegetable stew, which formed his one daily meal. Nevertheless, he gave it up to the stranger, who ate it, and then suddenly vanished. The next morning, as Hans Sneeman the forester was working, hungry and somewhat disheartened, a radiant angel appeared to him, who informed him that it was she whom he had helped the night before and for his generosity and unselfishness the help he had given should always be his, and he should never be in want again so long as he lived. Then the angel vanished; but, from that time forth, everything went well with Hans Sneeman, who remained always humble-minded, generous and unselfish; and to remind him of his days of poverty, and to keep himself from becoming proud, always ate his meals out of his old wooden bowl, which was buried with him when he died.