Julia loved to recite. Her loose dark hair scattered on her shoulders, her face glowing, she went through her piece as though she were standing on a stage. She even made gestures.
Betsy sat down on the edge of a chair and listened. Secretly she admired Julia’s reciting. It sent an icy trickle down her spine when Julia recited “Little Orphan Annie” and “The Raggedy Man.” This new piece was different; it wasn’t scary; but for Betsy it had a special value. Thinking of Tib she listened with pricked ears:
“You must wake and call me early,
call me early, Mother dear,
Tomorrow’ll be the happiest time of all the
glad New-year,
Of all the glad New-year, Mother,
the maddest merriest day,
For I’m to be Queen o’ the May, Mother,
I’m to be Queen o’ the May!”
5
The School Entertainment
EFORE THE day of the School Entertainment it turned cold again. For a week rains drenched the hills, the terraced lawns, the sloping road of Hill Street. After the rains stopped, the skies were still overcast. It was pleasanter indoors than out and this was just as well, for everyone was busy getting ready for the School Entertainment.
Julia went about murmuring sweetly:
“For I’m to be Queen o’ the May, Mother,
I’m to be Queen o’ the May.”
Julia could hardly wait for the great day. Her feet loved a platform as Betsy’s loved a grassy hill. Whether she was playing the piano, singing, or reciting, Julia was happy so long as she had an audience.
She was different in this from Katie who despised performing. For the Entertainment Katie was reciting Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address. She knew every word of it; she could be depended upon not to make a single mistake. But she would not put in expression, no matter how much the teacher urged or coaxed.
Betsy and Tacy were singing a duet made up entirely of “meows.” They were going to wear cat costumes cut from shiny black cambric, with cat ears and tails. Mrs. Ray and Mrs. Kelly were busy making the costumes and Mrs. Ray was busy too rehearsing Betsy and Tacy. They ran into difficulties for Betsy was singing alto. It was altogether too easy for her to slide up into the soprano part and sing along with Tacy.
When she did that, Tacy gave her a nudge which meant, “Get back to your alto!” Betsy’s mother sounded the right note hard and Betsy got back to her alto as quickly as she could.
At almost any time or place Tib might practice her Baby Dance. She would pick her skirt up by the edges and run and make a pirouette. This was the opening of her dance. There were five different steps and she did each one thirty-two times … a slide, a kick, a double slide, jump step, and then a Russian step which was done in a squatting position kicking out first one foot and then the other. It was hard but Tib could do it.
Betsy and Tacy had seen her practice her dance on hill, lawn, and sidewalk, but they had not yet seen the accordion-pleated dress.
“It’s done,” said Tib, the day before the Entertainment. “I’ll be wearing it tomorrow when you call for me.”
“We’ll be there early,” Betsy and Tacy said.
And next morning early they stopped at Tib’s back door carrying their cat costumes in big cardboard boxes.
They wiped their feet hard on the mat and Matilda let them in. They ran into the back parlor and there stood Tib in her accordion-pleated dress. It was made of fine white organdie trimmed with rows of insertion and lace. A sash of pale blue satin was tied high in princess style. She wore a soft blue bow on her yellow curls.
Mrs. Muller, looking proud, turned her about for Betsy and Tacy to see.
“How do you like it?” she asked.
“It’s beautiful,” said Betsy.
Tacy only gazed, but with luminous eyes.
Tib lifted her skirt by the edges. She could hold it out wide because of the accordion pleats. She ran and made a pirouette.
“It’s fine for my dance,” she said, looking pleased.
“You can’t put your grubby jacket on over that dress,” Mrs. Muller said. “I’ll let you wear my cape.” And she left the room and came back with her best cape which was made of black lace trimmed with ribbons and rosebuds. “Take good care of it,” she said, “and of the dress too. I’ll see you at the Entertainment.”
Betsy, Tacy, and Tib walked to school proudly. Betsy walked on one side of Tib and Tacy on the other.
The sun had come out in honor of the day. Snowball bushes nodded from the lawns, pansies and tulips in gardens looked festive with the sunshine on them, as though they knew about the Entertainment. The school steps were full of boys and girls looking unusually clean and dressed up. The upper grades were giving the Entertainment in the Seventh Grade Room, which was the largest in the building. But all the rooms were open and ready for visiting mothers.
Betsy, Tacy, and Tib went first into their own Fourth Grade Room. It looked as dressed up as themselves. On Miss Dooley’s desk was a bouquet of lady’s slippers which one of the boys had brought. Samples of the children’s work were pinned up on the walls. There were arithmetic papers and spelling papers, maps, charcoal drawings of cups and saucers, and paintings of oranges and apples.
Miss Dooley looked as dressed up as the room. Instead of her usual shirt waist and skirt, she wore a flowing purple dress with large bell sleeves. Her hair was curled and her face was bright and anxious.
The class stayed in the Fourth Grade Room only long enough for prayer and roll call. Then Miss Dooley’s bell tapped.
“Position! Rise! Turn! March!”
Someone was playing a march on the piano out in the hall. The Fourth Graders joined the other grades and they all marched into the Seventh Grade Room.
It was crowded but that made the occasion all the gayer. Children sat double in the seats. Folding chairs had been brought in and mothers sat or stood around the walls. Betsy found her own mother sitting among the others. Betsy glanced at her, trying not to smile, and glanced away quickly, trying to act busy and important. Tacy and Tib were looking at their mothers and trying not to smile, too. All the mothers were dressed up and looked nice.
To open the Entertainment, all the children sang together. They sang “Men of Harlech” and it was fine. Then there was a play, and then Julia gave her recitation. Her recitation was different from other children’s recitations; it always was. She did not seem like Julia at all as she stood up in front of the room. She looked frail and wistful, with her long hair full of flowers. She smiled and yet she seemed ready to cry. Her hands moved appealingly. Her voice was like spring rain:
“Tomorrow’ll be of all the year
the maddest merriest day,
For I’m to be Queen o’ the May, Mother,
I’m to be Queen o’ the May.”
“That child is certainly going to be an actress,” Betsy heard one of the visiting mothers say to another visiting mother.
Betsy felt embarrassed and proud.
Soon after came Katie’s turn. Square on her sturdy feet, her face scornful, she rattled without a mistake through the Gettysburg Address. She walked back to her seat and sat down hard. When she had to take bad medicine, Katie knew how to take it.
About that time Betsy and Tacy sneaked out to the cloak room. Betsy’s mother came too. While some other children sang songs and spoke pieces and the boy named Tom played a solo on his violin, Betsy and Tacy put on their cat costumes. Mrs. Ray tied perky red bows behind their tall cat ears.
Tom’s solo ended and two large black cats jumped out on the stage. Betsy’s mother began to play the piano and Betsy and Tacy began to sing:
“Mee-ee-ow! Mee-ee-ee-ow!”
Like a kettle boiling over, the room foamed with laughter.
And the louder the children laughed, the louder Betsy and Tacy made their caterwauls, the more they wiggled their ears and swished their tails. Sometimes Betsy slid up to the soprano and sang along with Tacy, but nobody cared. Tacy forgot to nudg
e her and Mrs. Ray forgot to pound the right note hard. When the Cat Duet ended, the children clapped and stamped. Mothers wiped tears of laughter from their eyes and Miss Dooley said:
“Betsy and Tacy will have to sing the Cat Duet again for us next year.”
And so they did. In fact they sang it every year until they graduated from high school.
At the end of the program, Tib danced the Baby Dance. She ran out on the platform holding the accordion-pleated dress outstretched very wide. When she whirled, she looked like a butterfly. She did the first four steps, thirty-two times each, and when she began the Russian step, the hard one, squatting down and kicking out right and left, the audience began to clap. She went off the stage doing that step and the people clapped so hard that she had to come back to bow, holding the skirt out wide.
“She’ll certainly make a good queen,” Betsy whispered to Tacy as they clapped tired hands until they could clap no more.
The children marched back to their rooms after that. Mothers came visiting; it was like a big party. When the mothers left, the children returned to their desks briefly. Then Miss Dooley tapped her bell.
“Position! Rise! Turn! March!”
They marched out of the room and down the stairs.
On the front steps Betsy and Tacy took their places on either side of Tib. Still flushed from her dance, her eyes as blue as the soft blue bow which tied her curls, she looked pretty. But the accordion-pleated dress, alas, was covered up by the cape.
“Don’t wear your cape home,” said Betsy.
“I’ll carry it for you,” offered Tacy.
“Or I will,” said Betsy.
Tib laughed.
“It seems funny to have you waiting on me,” she said. “Usually I wait on you.” It was true, and it was just like Tib to mention it.
Tib didn’t feel any different or act any different because she looked so pretty and had danced so well.
“My mamma said I should take good care of this cape,” she remarked, slipping it off.
“I’ll take good care of it,” promised Tacy. She folded it over her arm. Betsy took the cardboard boxes containing the cat costumes. They all walked proudly down the steps.
They skirted the sandy lot known as the boys’ yard. At the corner where it met the street a crowd of boys had gathered. Although they were dressed in their best clothes, they were acting very badly. They were bouncing in a circle, yelling.
“They’re teasing somebody,” said Betsy.
“Mean things!” said Tacy.
“I wonder who,” said Tib.
Coming nearer they could hear what the boys were yelling. It was a singsong:
“Dago! Dago!”
“That’s what they yell at the people from Little Syria sometimes,” said Tib.
“They yell it at Old Bushara and he chases them with a knife.”
“Maybe it’s Old Bushara in there now.”
“Let’s look! I’ve never seen him.”
None of them had. They pushed into the crowd.
The victim they discovered was not Old Bushara. It was a little girl, a lone little girl, looking fearfully from face to face around the cruel circle. She wore a scarf tied closely around her rosy face, a wide long flowered skirt…
“It’s Naifi,” cried Betsy and Tacy and Tib in one horrified breath.
Naifi saw them; she recognized them. Her eyes widened with hope.
“Hel-lo, hel-lo, hel-lo,” she cried in agonized appeal.
Someone began to mimic her.
“Hel-lo, hel-lo.”
“Oh dear!” cried Betsy, tears clouding her eyes.
The boy named Sam who had been chased by Old Bushara jumped out of the circle. He was in Fourth Grade along with Betsy, Tacy, and Tib, but he was old enough to be in Seventh. He was big and rough. He snatched the scarf from Naifi’s head and waved it. He pulled her long black braids.
Tacy struggled forward. She was shy but she wasn’t shy enough to keep still now.
“You stop that!” she cried.
No one paid any attention to Tacy, except one boy who shouted, “Red-headed woodpecker!” because of her red curls.
Like a small shining comet Tib flashed into the ring.
“You let her go! You let her be!” she cried, pushing herself between Sam and Naifi. Sam pushed her back.
There was a singing sound. The accordion-pleated dress ripped smartly in his hand.
There was a scuffle then. Heedless of her dress, Tib pushed Naifi through a break in the circle. Tacy ran to help; someone pulled her back; and Mrs. Muller’s cape fell to the ground. Betsy couldn’t let Tacy and Tib be so much braver than she was. She fought her way forward but she dropped the cardboard boxes. The two cat costumes, red ribbons and all, tumbled out.
With a shout Sam picked them up. Maybe he thought it would be fun to put on a cat costume. Maybe he was ashamed of himself and wanted an excuse to stop teasing Naifi. Certainly some of the other boys seemed ashamed.
Betsy, Tacy, and Tib surrounded Naifi and pushed her to the sidewalk.
“Run!” they whispered.
With one deep look of thankfulness, Naifi ran. A flash of blue bloomers, a gleam of red shoes, and she was gone.
Sam and another boy had put on the cat costumes.
“Mee-ow! Mee-ow!” they cried, prancing about.
A third boy was strutting up and down in Tib’s mother’s cape. Tib looked from that to her torn dress and her face went from red to white.
Betsy and Tacy started to cry, but they remembered they were ten years old and didn’t. It was hard not to, though. And just at that moment who should come running but Julia and Katie. Big sisters arrive handily sometimes.
“You leave my little sister alone!” Betsy heard Julia shouting.
“Give me those costumes and that cape and be quick about it!” Katie said.
Everyone always minded Katie … even big boys … even Sam. Sam threw down the cat costumes and another boy tossed Tib’s mother’s cape into the air and ran. They all ran except a few of the boys who had looked ashamed. These helped to pick up the black costumes, the red ribbons, and the cape. Then they ran, too.
When they were alone, Betsy, Tacy, and Tib told Julia and Katie what had happened. But they did not tell them that they knew Naifi. Upset as they were, they remembered to guard their secret.
Katie shook out Tib’s mother’s cape.
“It looks as good as ever,” she said.
“And we’ll go home with you, Tib,” said Julia, “to explain about your dress.”
“I wish you would,” said Tib.
She looked forlorn with her blue hair ribbon missing, her sash untied, and the torn skirt dragging on the ground.
Julia and Katie, Betsy, Tacy, and Tib walked slowly to the chocolate-colored house.
Julia explained the whole thing to Mrs. Muller. She talked her prettiest, almost as though she were reciting; and she made Mrs. Muller understand.
“It’s all right,” said Mrs. Muller. “I’m glad Tib stood up for the little Syrian girl. Foreign people should not be treated like that. America is made up of foreign people. Both of Tib’s grandmothers came from the other side. Perhaps when they got off the boat they looked a little strange too.”
Tib looked at Betsy and Tacy. She breathed a long sigh of relief.
“But my dress, Mamma!” she said. “Can it be mended?”
“Certainly it can be mended,” Mrs. Muller answered.
“You’ll have it to be queen in,” Betsy and Tacy whispered.
For as soon as school was over, they intended to plan that game in which Tib would be queen.
6
A Quarrel
HE QUEEN GAME had an unexpected result. It led to a quarrel with Julia and Katie.
Not an ordinary quarrel. Not one of the kind which arose all the time from Julia and Katie being bossy and Betsy and Tacy and Tib making nuisances of themselves. Those quarrels didn’t amount to much. They were always made up at bedtime with a pil
low fight or a peace offering. Once when Julia had been mean, she bought Betsy a candy fried egg in a little tin pan … one cent at Mrs. Chubbock’s store … to show she was sorry.
This quarrel was different. It lasted for days. Their fathers and mothers knew about it; the whole neighborhood knew about it. And while it was exciting at first, it made Julia and Katie and Betsy and Tacy and Tib all feel bad before it was ended. Julia and Katie were good big sisters, as big sisters go, and Betsy and Tacy were no more exasperating than other little sisters. Everyone liked Tib, and Tib despised quarrels. Yet Tib was the very center of this bitter feud.
The plan for a queen game lagged, after school ended. Betsy, Tacy, and Tib were busy enjoying not having to go to school. They climbed hills and trees, ate picnics, lay on green lawns and talked.
But they did not forget about queens. They could not. For Julia kept reminding them.
Julia kept on reciting:
“For I’m to be Queen o’ the May, Mother,
I’m to be Queen o’ the May.”
She recited it at the school picnic; she recited it for the High Fly Whist Club to which her father and mother belonged; she recited it for the Masons and the Eastern Stars; she recited it for all the neighbors. Julia was a great reciter.
Betsy, Tacy, and Tib had queens on their minds, all right. But they did not do much about their plan for making Tib a queen, until they were jolted into it by Julia and Katie.
For several days Julia and Katie had been whispering together. And one hot noon at dinnertime, Julia asked permission to go down to Front Street with Katie. After dinner she shook all the pennies out of her pig bank, put on her hat, and borrowed her mother’s parasol. She and Katie started down Hill Street looking superior.
“They’ve got something up their sleeves,” Betsy and Tacy agreed as they sat with Tib beside Tacy’s pump, washing carrots and eating them. The carrots were small and tender; they came from Tacy’s garden. Washed in the cold well water, they made refreshing eating.