Marjorie's Busy Days

by Carolyn Wells

  CHAPTER VIII

  SPELLING TROUBLES

  "What _is_ the matter, Midge?" said her father, "You sigh as if you'dlost your last friend."

  The family were in the pleasant living-room one evening, just afterdinner.

  All, that is, except Rosy Posy, who had gone to bed long ago. Kingdonwas reading, and Kitty was idly playing with the kitten, while Marjorie,her head bent over a book on the table, was abstractedly moving her lipsas if talking to herself.

  "Oh, Father! it's this horrid old spelling lesson. I just _can't_ learnit, and that all there is about it!"

  "Can't learn to spell? Bring me your book, and let me have a look atit."

  Very willingly Marjorie flew to her father's side, and, big girl thoughshe was, perched herself on his knee while she showed him the page.

  "Just look! There's 'deleble' spelled with an e, and 'indelible' with ani! Why can't they spell them alike?"

  "I think myself they might as well have done so," said Mr. Maynard,"but, since they didn't, we'll have to learn them as they are. Where isyour lesson?"

  "All that page. And they're fearfully hard words. And words I'll neveruse anyway. Why would I want to use 'harassed' and 'daguerreotype' and'macaroni' and such words as those?"

  Mr. Maynard smiled at the troubled little face.

  "You may not want to use them, dearie, but it is part of your educationto learn to spell them. Come, now, I'll help you, and we'll soon putthem through. Let's pick out the very hardest one first."

  "All right; 'daguerreotype' is the hardest."

  "Oh, pshaw, no! That's one of the very easiest. Just remember that itwas a Frenchman named Daguerre who invented the process; then you onlyhave to add 'o' and 'type,' and there you are!"

  "Why, that _is_ easy! I'll never forget that. 'Macaroni' is a hard one,though."

  "Why?"

  "Oh, because I always put two c's or two r's or two n's in it."

  "Ho, that makes it easy, then. Just remember that there isn't a doubleletter in it, and then spell it just as it sounds. Why, macaroni is solong and thin that there isn't room for a double letter in it."

  "Oh, Father, you make it so easy. Of course I'll remember that, now."

  Down the long list they went, and Mr. Maynard, with some little quip orquibble, made each word of special interest, and so fixed it inMarjorie's memory. At the end of a half-hour she was perfect in thelesson, and had thoroughly enjoyed the learning of it.

  "I wish you'd help me every night," she said, wistfully. "All this week,anyway. For there's to be a spelling-match on Friday, between our classand Miss Bates' class, and we want to win. But I'm such a bad speller,nobody wants to choose me on their side."

  "They don't, don't they? Well, I rather think we'll change all that. Youand I will attack Mr. Speller every evening, and see if we can'tvanquish him."

  "I think we can," said Marjorie, her eyes sparkling. "For it's only somefew of those catchy words that I can't seem to learn. But after you helpme they all seem easy."

  So every night that week Midge and her father had a spelling-class oftheir own, and fine work was accomplished.

  The spelling-match was to be on Friday, and Thursday night they were tohave a grand review of all the lessons. Marjorie brought home herschoolbooks on Thursday, and left them in the house while she went outto play. But when she came in to get ready for dinner, her mother wasdressing to go out.

  "Where are you going, Mother?" said Marjorie, looking admiringly at hermother's pretty gown.

  "We're going to Mrs. Martin's to dinner, dearie. She invited us over thetelephone this morning. There's a very nice dinner prepared for youchildren, and you must have a good time by yourselves, and not belonesome. Go to bed promptly at nine o'clock, as we shall be out late."

  "Is father going, too?" cried Marjorie, aghast.

  "Yes, of course. You may fasten my glove, Midget, dear."

  "But I want father to help me with my spelling."

  "I thought about that, Mops," said her father, coming into the room."And I'm sorry I have to be away to-night. But I'll tell you what we'lldo. When is this great spelling-match,--to-morrow?"

  "Yes, to-morrow afternoon."

  "Well, you study by yourself this evening, and learn all you can. Thenskip to bed a bit earlier than usual, and then hop up early to-morrowmorning. You and I will have an early breakfast, at about seven o'clock.Then from half-past seven to half-past eight I'll drill you in that oldspeller till you can spell the cover right off it."

  "All right," said Marjorie. "It's really just as well for me to studyalone to-night, and then you can help me a lot to-morrow morning. Butwon't it make you too late going to business?"

  "No, I'll take a half-hour off for your benefit. If I leave here byhalf-past eight that will do nicely, and that's about the time you wantto go to school."

  So the matter was settled, and Mr. and Mrs. Maynard drove away, leavingthe three children to dine by themselves. The meal was a merry one, forwhen thus left to themselves the children always "pretended."

  "I'm a princess," said Marjorie, as she seated herself in her mother'splace. "These dishes are all gold, and I'm eating birds of paradise withnectarine sauce."

  Even as she spoke, Sarah brought her a plate of soup, and Midgeproceeded to eat it with an exaggerated air of grandeur, which shethought befitted a princess.

  "I'm not a prince," said Kingdon. "I'm an Indian chief, and I'm eatingwild boar steak, which I shot with my own trusty bow and arrows."

  "I'm a queen in disguise," said Kitty. "I'm hiding from my pursuers, soI go around in plain, dark garbs, and no one knows I'm a queen."

  "How do we all happen to be dining at one table?" asked Marjorie.

  "It's a public restaurant," said King. "We all came separately, and justchanced to sit at the same table. May I ask your name, Madam?"

  "I'm the Princess Seraphina," said Marjorie, graciously. "My home is inthe sunny climes of Italy, and I'm travelling about to see the world.And you, noble sir, what is your name?"

  "I am Chief Opodeldoc, of the Bushwhack Tribe. My tomahawk is in mybelt, and whoever offends me will add his scalp to my collection!"

  "Oh, sir," said Kitty, trembling; "I pray you be not so fierce ofmanner! I am most mortal timid."

  Kitty had a fine dramatic sense, and always threw herself into her partwith her whole soul. The others would sometimes drop back into theirevery-day speech, but Kitty was always consistent in her assumedcharacter.

  "Is it so, fair Lady?" said King, looking valiant. "Have no fear of me.Should aught betide I will champion thy cause to the limit."

  "And mine?" said Marjorie. "Can you champion us both, Sir Opodeldoc?"

  "Aye, that can I. But I trust this is a peaceful hostelry. I see no signof warfare."

  "Nay, nay, but war may break out apace. Might I enquire your name, fairlady?"

  "Hist!" said Kitty, her finger on her lip, and looking cautiously about,"I am, of a truth, the Queen of--of Macedonia. But disguised as a poorwaif, I seek a hiding-place from my tormentors."

  "Why do they torment you?"

  "'Tis a dark secret; ask me not. But tell of yourself, PrincessSeraphina. Dost travel alone?"

  "Yes; with but my suite of armed retainers. Cavalrymen and infantryattend my way, and twelve ladies-in-waiting wait on me."

  "A great princess, indeed," said King, in admiration. "We are well met!"

  "Methinks I am discovered!" cried Kitty, as Sarah approached her with adish of pudding. "This damsel! She is of my own household. Ha! Doth sherecognize me?"

  Although used to the nonsense of the children, Sarah couldn't entirelyrepress a giggle as Kitty glared at her.

  "Eat your dinner, Miss Kitty," she said, "an' don't be afther teasin'me."

  "Safe!" exclaimed Kitty. "She knows me not! 'Kitty' she calls me! Ha!"

  The play went on all through the meal, for the Maynards never tired ofthis sort of fun.

  "I'm going out for a few minutes," said King, as they at last rose fromth
e table. "Father said I might go down to Goodwin's to get slides formy camera. I won't be gone long."

  "All right," said Marjorie, "I'm going to study my spelling. What areyou going to do, Kit?"

  "I'm going up to the playroom. Nannie is going to tell me stories whileshe sews."

  So Marjorie was alone in the living-room as she took up her school-bagto get her spelling-book from it. To her dismay it was not there! Thebook which she had mistakenly brought for her speller was her mentalarithmetic; they were much the same size, and she often mistook one forthe other.

  But this time it was a serious matter. The spelling-match was to be thenext day, and how could she review her lessons without her book?

  Her energetic mind began to plan what she could do in the matter.

  It was already after seven o'clock, quite too late to go to theschoolhouse after the missing book. If King had been at home she wouldhave consulted him, but she had no one of whom to ask advice.

  She remembered what her father had said about getting up early the nextmorning, and she wondered if she couldn't get up even earlier still, andgo to the schoolhouse for the book before breakfast. She could get thekey from the janitor, who lived not far from her own home.

  It seemed a fairly feasible plan, and, though she would lose herevening's study, she determined to go to bed early, and rise at daybreakto go for the book.

  "I'll write a note to mother," she thought, "telling her all about it,and I'll leave it on her dressing-table. Then, when she hears meprowling out at six o'clock to-morrow morning, she'll know what I'm upto."

  The notion of an early morning adventure was rather attractive, butsuddenly Marjorie thought that she might not be able to get the key fromthe janitor so early as that.

  "Perhaps Mr. Cobb doesn't get up until seven or later, and I can't waittill then," she pondered. "I've a good notion to go for that keyto-night. Then I can go to the schoolhouse as early as I choose in themorning without bothering anybody."

  She rose and went to the window. It was quite dark, for, though thestreets were lighted, the lights were far apart, and there was no moon.

  Of course, Marjorie never went out alone in the evening, but this wassuch an exceptional occasion, she felt sure her parents would not blameher.

  "If only King was here to go with me," she thought. But King was off onhis own errand, and she knew that when he returned he would want to fixhis camera, and, anyway, it would be too late then.

  Mr. Cobb's house was only three blocks away, and she could run downthere and back in ten minutes.

  Deciding quickly that she must do it, Marjorie put on her coat and hatand went softly out at the front door. She felt sure that if she toldNurse Nannie or Kitty of her errand, they would raise objections, so shedetermined to steal off alone. "And then," she thought, "it will be funto come home and ring the bell, and see Sarah's look of astonishment tofind me at the door!"

  It was a pleasant night, though cool, and Marjorie felt a thrill ofexcitement as she walked down the dark path to the gate, and then alongthe street alone.

  In a few moments she reached Mr. Cobb's house, and rang the doorbell.Mr. Cobb was not at home, but when Mrs. Cobb appeared at the door,Marjorie made known her errand.

  "Why, bless your heart, yes, little girl," said the kindly disposedwoman. "I'll let you take the key, of course. Mr. Cobb, he always keepsit hangin' right here handy by. So you're goin' over to the school atsun-up! Well, well, you've got spunk, haven't you, now? And don't botherto bring 't back. Mr. Cobb, he can stop at your house for it, as he goesto the school at half-past seven. Mebbe he'll get there 'fore you do,after all. I dunno if you'll find it so easy to wake up at six o'clockas you think."

  "Oh, yes I will, Mrs. Cobb," said Midget. "I'm going to set an alarmclock. The only trouble is that will awaken my sister, too. But I'spect she'll go right to sleep again. You see it's a _very_ importantlesson, and I _must_ have that book."

  "All right, little lady. Run along now and get to bed early. Are youafraid? Shall I walk home with you?"

  "Oh, no, thank you. It's only three blocks, and I'll run all the way.I'm ever so much obliged for the key."

  "Oh, that's all right. I'm glad to accommodate you. Good-night."

  "Good-night, Mrs. Cobb," said Marjorie, and in another moment the gateclicked behind her.

  As she reached the first turning toward her own home, she looked off inthe other direction, where the schoolhouse stood. It was several blocksaway, and Marjorie was thinking how she would run over there the nextmorning. And then a crazy thought jumped into her brain. Why not go now?Then she could study this evening, after all. It was dark, to be sure,but it was not so very late,--not eight o'clock yet.

  The thought of entering the empty schoolhouse, alone, and in utterdarkness, gave her a thrill of fear, but she said to herself:

  "How foolish! There's nothing to be afraid of in an empty schoolhouse.I can feel my way to our classroom, and the street lights will shine insome, anyway. Pooh, I guess I wouldn't be very brave if I was afraid ofnothing! And just to think of having that book to-night! I can get itand be back home in twenty minutes. I believe I'll do it!"

  Marjorie hesitated a moment at the corner. Then she turned away from herhome and toward the schoolhouse, and took a few slow steps.

  "Oh, pshaw!" she said to herself. "Don't be a coward, Marjorie Maynard!There's nothing to hurt you, and if you scoot fast, it won't take tenminutes to get that book."

  In a sudden accession of bravery, Marjorie started off at a brisk pace.

  As she went on, her courage ebbed a little, but a dogged determinationkept her from turning back.

  "I won't be a baby, or a 'fraid cat!" she said angrily, to herself. "I'mnot doing anything wrong, and there's no reason at all to be frightened.But I do wish it wasn't so dark."

  The part of town where the school stood was less thickly settled thanwhere Marjorie lived, and she passed several vacant lots. This made itseem more lonely, and the far-apart street lights only seemed to makedarker the spaces between.

  But Marjorie trudged on, grasping the key, and roundly scolding herselffor being timid.