A Fourth Form Friendship (17 page)

As a wind-up to the festivities, everyone made an attempt to dance Sir Roger de Coverley--a very funny proceeding indeed on the ice, where strokes had to be substituted for
chassés
, and the ranks were apt to be abruptly broken by someone sitting down suddenly, with more swiftness than grace. Miss Reade and Miss Bardsley were heading the line, and passing under the upraised hands of Maude Farnham and Rose Turner, two of the prefects, when unluckily Rose tipped a little too far forward and lost her balance. Down she came with a crash, and in her fall she clutched wildly at Miss Bardsley, and not only brought both the teachers to their knees, but upset six couples who were following close behind and could not stop. There was quite a tangle of prostrate figures upon the ice, and much laughter as the girls picked themselves up, and tried to re-form the lines. Amidst the general scramble, nobody noticed for a moment that Miss Bardsley was really hurt; when she attempted to rise, however, her foot was so painful that she sank back with a groan.

"I'm afraid I must have sprained my ankle!" she exclaimed.

It was a case for "first aid", and the members of the ambulance class had very soon shown the advantage of their training by taking off the teacher's skates and boots, improvising a stretcher, and carrying her into the house, where Miss Drummond set to work at once with hot fomentations and bandages. Unfortunately, the mischief was greater than anyone supposed, for when the doctor from Chetbourne arrived next morning he declared that a bone was broken, and that the ankle must be put into splints.

Naturally, this was a very awkward occurrence just at the beginning of the term. Miss Bardsley would be disabled for some weeks, and in the meantime, who would take her Form? For a few days one of the prefects did duty, while Miss Drummond wrote post-haste to a scholastic agency, to secure a teacher as locum tenens.

It was difficult to find anyone who was disengaged and could come at so short a notice, and Miss Webb, the mistress who finally arrived, was hardly to the taste of the Fourth Form. She had been a private governess in a family, and was not accustomed to class teaching; and the girls discovered in the first half-hour that she had not the slightest notion of how to enforce discipline.

"She told me to stop talking, and when I didn't, she simply took no notice!" chuckled Dora Maxwell.

"And she said: 'Ursula, dear, please do not fidget with your pencil,' in such a mild, apologetic little voice!" laughed Ursula. "Miss Bardsley would have glared, and said: 'Ursula, take a forfeit!'"

"She doesn't know anything, really, about the lessons," said Aldred scornfully. "She kept looking at the book all the time, to follow what we were saying."

"And you remember that sum that came out so funnily? I'm sure the answer was wrong in the book, and I wanted her to work it on the blackboard, but she wouldn't," put in Dora.

"Because she couldn't!" sneered Aldred. "She's evidently no good at arithmetic. We know more ourselves than she does!"

"And when we were having physical geography, and I asked her why the moon really had phases, she said it depended on the tide!"

"Well, she had got rather flustered, and put it the wrong way," interposed Mabel. "Of course, she meant that the tide depended on the moon."

"Then why didn't she say so?"

"You muddle her by asking so many questions."

"Miss Bardsley never gets muddled; she always explains things so that one can understand exactly. As for Miss Webb, at the end of her physical geography, I feel as if I weren't sure whether the sun goes round the earth, or the earth round the sun."

"Well, it must be difficult for her, poor thing! to come here at a few hours' notice and have to take up another mistress's work," said Mabel. "I expect she's taught from quite different books, and doesn't know how far we are on in anything."

"It's not exactly that," said Phoebe. "I'm sure Miss Bardsley could set to work on someone else's Form, and manage their lessons in five minutes. The real trouble is that Miss Webb hasn't been used to teach in the way we learn things at Birkwood. She's old-fashioned, and expects you just to repeat what's in the book, and never minds whether you really understand it or not."

"That's fearfully out-of-date!" said Ursula. "She must have been educated a very long time ago. I wonder how old she is?"

"Quite fifty, I should think. Her hair is very grey," said Aldred. "She's older than Miss Drummond, I'm certain, and oh! what a vast difference there is between them! Miss Drummond is the cleverest person I know, and Miss Webb is a perfect noodle!"

"I don't see what's the use of troubling to learn her stupid lessons; they can't do us any good."

"Well, we must be able to reel off something, or she'd give us bad marks, and Miss Drummond would scold."

"Yes, that's the worst of it."

"Freda Martin made a far better teacher; I wish she could have gone on taking us!"

"So do I; but, you see, she has her own work. She is going in for the Matric. next summer."

"Well, I vote we give ourselves an easy time with Miss Webb. We'll learn just enough to satisfy her and no more; and if we feel inclined to talk in school we'll talk!"

The New Teacher

It was very naughty of the girls thus to take advantage of poor Miss Webb, who was doing her utmost, according to her lights, to fill the gap occasioned by Miss Bardsley's enforced absence. She had no natural gift either for imparting knowledge or for keeping control over unruly wills, and had, indeed, quite mistaken her vocation. Teaching was to her, not a pleasure, but a weary grind to which she must continually brace her nerves; she could not help showing how distasteful it was, and her lack of enthusiasm was reflected in her pupils. Her classes were chaotic. The girls whispered, laughed, and played tricks upon one another with impunity; her faint remonstrances had not the slightest effect, and the more nervous she grew, the more out of hand they became.

Ursula Bramley, who prided herself on her wit, would delight in asking questions calculated to expose the mistress's ignorance, or to trip her up in some obscure branch of knowledge. She would come into school well primed with educational posers, and keenly enjoyed Miss Webb's discomfiture. She would meet all the unfortunate governess's attempts at evasion with firm determination, nailing her to the point until poor Miss Webb seemed more in the position of a candidate undergoing examination than a teacher conducting her own class.

"Baiting the cobweb," as Ursula called it, was the grand amusement of the Form, and it was very seldom that the victim emerged triumphant from the ordeal. Schoolgirls are thoughtless creatures, often very heartless, and it never struck the Form what pain they were inflicting upon a proud and sensitive lady, whose misfortunes obliged her to gain her living at an uncongenial occupation. To them she was simply a tiresome old bore, an object of mirth or contempt; and the agony that she endured in private did not enter into their calculations.

Mabel alone took no part in this unseemly state of disorder. Soon after the advent of Miss Webb she had developed a slight attack of influenza, and was laid up in the "hospital", a large room at the top of the house reserved for purposes of isolation. She was not seriously ill, but Miss Drummond was so afraid of infection being spread through the school that she kept Mabel away from the others for a longer period than was really necessary.

The latter certainly would not have countenanced any rudeness or discourtesy in class, but, her good influence being removed, Aldred was only too ready to follow the example of the others, and, as a cheap and ready means to win popularity, became one of the ring-leaders in the daily mutiny, vying with Ursula as to which could be the more clever at their teacher's expense. All kinds of petty annoyances were resorted to. If Miss Webb wished to write on the blackboard, the chalk would be missing, or the duster mislaid. The desk lids were banged, books dropped feet scraped noisily, or the door was slammed on purpose. The girls would wilfully misunderstand the plainest directions, make ridiculous mistakes in their essays or exercises, and altogether try how far they could put the patience and good temper of the long-suffering mistress to the test.

One morning Miss Webb, in a feeble effort towards reform, announced that she intended next day to give the Form a viva voce examination upon the work taken since her arrival, and that she would submit the results to Miss Drummond.

This was a blow, for the girls had learnt their lessons so badly lately that not one of them was prepared, and they knew that the low standard of their marks would mean trouble with the head mistress.

"It's absurd to give us an exam, when it's not even the middle of the term!" exclaimed Dora, in much indignation.

"And a viva voce, too! We always have written ones at Birkwood," said Agnes, "with properly typed questions."

"Suppose none of us pass? Miss Drummond will be absolutely savage!" said Phoebe uneasily.

"Yes; she was not at all pleased with our reports last week," agreed Lorna.

"She asked how it was I had so many mistakes in my German exercises, and why my problems were all wrong."

"And she looked at the writing in my book, and said it was a scribble," added Myfanwy.

"What are we going to take for the viva voce?" asked Aldred.

"Everything. It's to be from nine to eleven--a regular catechism in Roman history, and physical geography, and English literature, with grammar and parsing thrown in."

"Miss Webb said she would even ask us French verbs, and weights and measures," wailed Dora. "I know I shall fail! I'm no good at viva voces. I can remember the past preterite of
s'en aller
, or how many square yards there are in a square pole, when I'm writing an exercise, or doing a sum; but I never can think quickly enough when I'm asked point-blank. It all goes straight out of my head, and it's just coming back to me by the time the next girl is answering."

"Viva voces really are not fair," grumbled Myfanwy. "The nervous ones always do badly, however much they know."

"And when you don't know, it's still worse!" continued Lorna. "Miss Bardsley never gives them, at any rate, and that's quite sufficient reason why Miss Webb shouldn't."

"I call it quite impertinent for a temporary teacher to make such an innovation!" said Ursula loftily.

"Especially when Miss Bardsley is a B.A., and Miss Webb hasn't been to college."

"Yes. She has no business to alter any of our Form arrangements. We told her what we were accustomed to do, and she ought to stick to that, instead of introducing her own ways."

However much the girls might murmur in private, they could not openly rebel, or refuse to submit to the examination. It never struck any of them to take their books and set to work during recreation time, to try to make up arrears. They much preferred to grumble, and bewail their hard luck.

"I hope she'll begin with literature and physical geography," said Phoebe. "I can manage fairly well with those, because it's easy enough to give examples of a dactyl and hexameters, or to describe a volcano; but when it comes to Roman chronology, I shall be done for! I can't remember the dates in the least, or the right order of the battles, or the names of the generals."

"We must try to spin out the first part," suggested Aldred. "We'll answer as slowly as we possibly can, and then there won't be so much time left for the Roman history. We can't go on again after eleven, because of the singing class and science."

"That's a good idea! Will everyone please remember not to hurry? I wonder if I could manage to drawl like Lorna?" chuckled Phoebe. "She always takes twice as long as anyone else to bring out her remarks!"

"I don't!" protested Lorna.

"Yes, you do. You needn't be so indignant; it's an accomplishment that we're all envying just at present, and longing to acquire!"

Preparation that evening, which ought to have been devoted to a steady recapitulation of forgotten dates and events, was conducted with the half-heartedness into which, under Miss Webb's slack rule, the attention of the class had unfortunately degenerated. The girls learnt with one eye on their books and the other on their neighbours; they made signs, talked on their fingers, and passed notes under the desks. Occasionally, when matters were really too bad to be ignored, Miss Webb would pluck up courage to venture a remonstrance, when there would be a brief interval of work; but within five minutes Aldred would be drawing caricatures on the fly-leaf of her grammar, Ursula uttering a vamped-up sneeze, and Dora signalling to Myfanwy behind Agnes's back. It was a farce of study, and at the end of two hours nobody had really made any headway or gained any fresh items of knowledge to use in the forthcoming ordeal.

Miss Webb gave a sigh of relief when the clock struck and her unpleasant task was over, and the girls popped their books untidily into their desks, and bolted from the room with a noise and hustling at the door such as they would not have dared to indulge in if Miss Bardsley had been there.

Next morning at nine o'clock the examination began. All took their seats, not at their own desks, but on a couple of forms placed in front of the blackboard, an arrangement insisted upon by Miss Webb, and carried out rather sulkily by the girls, who objected to be so directly under the teacher's eye. For once, Miss Webb really managed to enforce her authority. She separated Dora and Phoebe, the worst whisperers, peremptorily ordered Aldred not to loll, and told Ursula, who made an attempt at "baiting", to confine herself to answering questions, instead of asking them.

"Anyone who does not behave properly will take a forfeit, and this morning I shall subtract the forfeits from the general totals of the examination," she announced, looking quite stern and determined.

Rather impressed by this unexpected burst of spirit on her part, the girls sat up straight, and gave their minds to the subject in hand. It was certainly very necessary for them to concentrate their attention, for both facts and figures proved coy, and apt to refuse to come at the call of memory. Miss Webb was methodical: she held the register in her hand, and recorded every girl's answer immediately it was given, entering it as right or wrong. The roll that resulted was hardly one of honour. Nobody covered herself with credit, or made even a tolerable show of information. Often a question would pass round the whole Form, and the number of misses to each name began greatly to outbalance the marks. The girls looked solemn. It was one thing to neglect Miss Webb's lessons, but quite another affair to have their deficiencies thus relentlessly written down and submitted to Miss Drummond, who would be sure to institute a close enquiry into the reason for such a universal failure. Everything seemed to go wrong, even English literature, upon which Phoebe had counted. Instead of taking examples of metre, Miss Webb asked for the chronological lives of authors, and lists of their works; or for the plots and principal characters of Shakespeare's plays. Physical geography fared no better, for she demanded an exact definition of terms, and very precise explanations of various phenomena, and would take no half-replies. She had evidently prepared carefully for the examination, and (when she was not continually interrupted by irrelevant questions) had a far better grasp of her subjects than her pupils had supposed.