Back to School with Betsy (7 page)

Many of the children drew Mexican Indians. Some were making pottery. Others were grinding corn and making tortillas, which the children had learned are a kind of bread.

Billy made a picture of a Mexican lady seated on a balcony. She was wearing a mantilla.

When the children saw Billy's picture, they were sure that Billy's would be chosen for the blackboard.

Ellen's was nice too. She drew a little Indian girl with a tray full of flowers.

When all of the drawings were finished, Miss Ross hung them across the front of the room. The four best pictures were to be chosen for the blackboard. The children chose Billy's and Betsy's and Christopher's and Ellen's.

Richard and Sally and Peter were chosen to put in flowers and trees. Some of the other children were to work on the wall of the house that formed the background. Others were to put in the mountains and sky.

The children worked every day for weeks on the big picture. Betsy spent all of her spare time working on her Indian on the burro. Sometimes she even gave up her recess, because she worked more slowly than the other children.

At last the picture was finished. The children were so proud of it they were ready to burst. All of the teachers in the school came in to see it. The children in the older classes came too. Everyone praised the big picture.

"Can't we ask our fathers and mothers to come see it?" asked Billy.

"I think that would be very nice," said Miss Ross.

"When can they come?" asked Christopher.

"Suppose we ask them to come next Friday," said Miss Ross.

Betsy could hardly wait for Friday to come. She wanted Mother and Father to see the lovely picture and especially her Indian on the burro. It was only Tuesday now. Friday seemed a long way off.

Betsy hurried home to tell Mother.

The next morning the children rushed into school to look at their Mexican picture again. It was so wonderful to have it all finished. Betsy and Billy came through the door first. When their eyes fell upon the blackboard, they stopped still. The blackboard had been washed clean. There wasn't a trace of the beautiful picture.

The rest of the children pushed past Betsy and Billy. They all stared at the blackboard. No one said a word.

Just then Miss Ross appeared and they all began to talk at once. "Miss Ross, what happened to our picture?" they cried.

"I couldn't believe my eyes when I came in this morning," said Miss Ross. "I have just spoken to Mr. Windrim, the janitor, about it. He tells me that he had a new helper yesterday. He told the helper to wash all of the blackboards. He didn't know about our picture."

Betsy felt so bad she put her head down on her desk and cried. The rest of the third graders were as mad as hornets. Billy was furious. He kicked the table leg so hard he hurt his toe.

"Now there is no use being angry," said Miss Ross. "And it won't help matters to kick the table leg, Billy."

"But all of our good work is gone," said Ellen.

"Well, we'll do it again," said Christopher. "We'll show 'em. We'll do it all over again. We still have our little pictures. We can copy them again."

"That's the spirit,Christopher,"said Miss Ross. "How many boys and girls want to do it over again:

All of the children but Betsy raised their hands. Betsy just cried harder.

"Why, Betsy!" said Miss Ross. "You mustn't feel so bad. This time you will do it more quickly."

"But I haven't my little picture of the Indian on the burro," sobbed Betsy. "Everyone else has their little picture, but Thumpy got hold of mine and tore it up."

"Come here to me," said Miss Ross.

Betsy went up to Miss Ross. Betsy's face was covered with tears. Miss Ross put her arm around Betsy. "Now, Betsy," she said, "how did you get the little picture of the Indian on the burro? Where did it come from?"

"I thought of it," said Betsy.

"Well, nothing has happened to your thinker, has it?" said Miss Ross. "Thumpy hasn't torn up your thinker, has he?"

This made the children laugh because they all knew that Thumpy couldn't tear up Betsy's thinker.

Betsy wiped her eyes and her nose. "No," she said.

"Well then, you're all right," said Miss Ross. "You can think it again."

Betsy felt much better as she took her seat.

That afternoon she made another picture of an Indian on a burro. She was surprised to find that she liked it much better than the first one.

In another week the children had covered the blackboard again. Everyone thought that the new picture was much better than the first one.

When the parents came to see the picture, Betsy's father brought enough ice cream for all of the children. He said he thought they all deserved a great big reward.

"Boy, oh, boy!" said Billy, as he dug into a large plate of ice cream. "Am I glad the first picture was rubbed off!"

Thanksgiving was hardly over when the children in the third grade began talking about Christmas. The paper turkeys and pumpkins that they had pasted on the blackboard were taken down.

The children were soon busy drawing what they called Christmas presents. They made them on large sheets of paper with colored crayons. With scissors they cut around the edges of the presents. When they were all finished, there were horns and drums, balls and tops and blocks. Some of the little girls had drawn dolls. A few of the boys had made fire engines and airplanes. Billy drew a great big fireplace on the blackboard. Then the children pasted the presents in front of the fireplace.

Way up high on the blackboard Miss Ross drew the chimney. Then she pasted Santa Claus's sleigh and reindeer up in the sky. The children thought the blackboard very beautiful.

At home Betsy was very busy making her real Christmas presents. She made Ellen a necklace of pink beads. For Billy she made a beanbag. It was made of red flannel, cut to look like an apple. Mother cut out a stem and leaves from a piece of green flannel. Betsy fastened them on the beanbag. She knew that Billy would know that it was supposed to be an apple as soon as he saw it.

A week before Christmas there was a great big snowstorm. The children were delighted. They went sledding on the hill. They built forts and had snowball battles. Betsy and Billy made a snowman in Betsy's garden. They put a face on

the back of the snowman's head, just like the one on the front.

When Father asked Betsy why the snowman had a face on the back of his head, Betsy said, "Because we don't think it would be polite for the snowman to turn his back on Mr. and Mrs. Jackson. So now when Mr. and Mrs. Jackson look out of their windows, they will see the snowman's face too."

That evening, before Betsy went to bed, she sat on Father's lap beside the open fire. "Father," said Betsy, "tell me about when you were a little boy." Betsy loved to hear Father tell about the things he did when he was a little boy.

"Did I ever tell you about the biggest snowstorm I ever saw?" asked Father.

"No, you didn't," said Betsy.

"Well," said Father, "when I was just about as old as you are, I went to spend the Christmas holidays with my Uncle Dan and Aunt Mattie. They lived on a farm way up in the northern part of Michigan. All Christmas Day it was cloudy and Uncle Dan kept saying, 'There'll be snow 'fore the night's over. And plenty of it if I'm a good guesser.'

"Before we went to bed, I helped Uncle Dan close the shutters. I could see snowflakes falling, very softly.

"'Be covered up good, tomorrow,' said Uncle Dan. 'Probably get some good sleighing.'

"I can remember," said Father, "just how I felt when Uncle Dan said the word sleighing. I tingled all over. I had never been for a sleigh ride. I had always visited the farm in the summer. But I had seen the big sleigh in the barn. Many a time I sat in the sleigh and thought how wonderful it would be to go for a sleigh ride. I had seen the sleigh bells too, hanging on the back of the barn door.

"'Oh, Uncle Dan,' I cried, 'do you think I'll get to go for a sleigh ride?'

"'Shouldn't be surprised,' said Uncle Dan.

"That night," Father continued, "I had the funniest dream. I dreamed that I was having a sleigh ride. And who do you think was driving the sleigh?"

"Who?" asked Betsy.

"Why, Santa Claus," said Father.

"Oh, Father!" cried Betsy. "And were there reindeer and did you ride through the sky and over the chimneys?"

"No," said Father, "we rode in a sleigh just

like Uncle Dan's. Uncle Dan's horses, Chippie and Rob, were pulling the sleigh. I sat up beside Santa Claus. Part of the time he let me drive. We drove a long way. The road led through the woods. At last we came to a house. It was all lit up. Santa Claus stopped the sleigh and we got out. He tied the horses to a post and put blankets over them. Then he took hold of my hand and led me up the steps of the house. It looked like an old inn. Inside, there was a roaring fire in the fireplace. Lying on the hearth were two dogs. When Santa Claus and I went into the room, I heard one dog say to the other, 'How do you feel, Fritzie?'

"'Hot,' answered Fritzie.

"'Me too,' said the first dog.

"'Maybe we better beat it,' said Fritzie.