"Blyton, Enid - St Clare's 06 - Fifth Formers at St Clare's" - читать интересную книгу автора (Blyton Enid)

MISS WILLCOX was in a bad temper. She had just had back from her publishers her second book of poems, with a polite note to say that they were not as good as the first ones, and they regretted they did not see their way to put them into book-form.
Miss Willcox had an excellent opinion of her own writings, just as Anne-Marie had of hers. Also she had boasted in advance of her second book of poems-and now it would not be published. She was disappointed, and, like many rather weak characters, her disappointment turned to resentment instead of to a determination to go on and do better.
So she went to her English class looking rather grim, and feeling that she could not stand any nonsense or bad work that morning.
As a whole, the class had been working really very well, for Miss Willcox's lessons were interesting. Alma Pudden had not been able to keep up with the class very well, and Doris could not learn by heart with any success unless she was allowed to act what she said. Felicity too was only really interested if the poems or plays aroused her sense of rhythm and music.
The girls were rather tired that morning. They had had a strenuous half-hour with the gym.-mistress, who, feeling rather brisk, had put them through a great many vigorous exercises. Then had come a very hard three-quarters of an hour over maths. and then the English lesson. The girls were feeling that they wanted to relax a little-but here was Miss Willcox demanding intense concentration and attention.
Carlotta let out an enormous yawn which drew Miss Willcox's wrath upon her. Then Claudine said she felt sick and please could she go out of the room ?
' It is astonishing how many times you manage to feel sick when you want to miss some part of a lesson,' said Miss Willcox, irritated. ' Go straight to Matron, please, and tell her.'
' I would rather not,' said Claudine, politely. ' I do not feel sick enough for that. I can be sick in here if you would rather I stayed for the lesson.'
It looked as if Miss Willcox was going to overwhelm Claudine with her wrath, when Felicity made them all jump. She began to tattoo on her desk, swaying to and fro in ecstasy.
' La-di-la-di-la !' she sang, ' oh, la-la-la-di-la!'
' Felicity! What in the world are you doing ? ' cried Miss Willcox, incensed with rage. Felicity took not the slightest notice. With eyes still closed, she continued her swaying, and her singing, at times thumping the desk to accent the rhythm.
' Felicity !' almost shouted Miss Willcox, one of her gold-topped pins falling out of her hair on to the desk. She didn't notice it. ' Do you hear what I say ? What has come over this class this morning ? '
Bobby gave Felicity a bang on the shoulder. Felicity opened her eyes with a start, and gazed round the room. She did not in the least seem to take in the fact that she was in class and that Miss Willcox was furious with her. She shut her eyes again and began swaying.
' She's music-mad,' said Bobby. ' She's in a kind of music-dream, Miss Willcox. I don't believe she can help it. Hie, Felicity!'
' She goes like this in our study at night, very often,' said Anne-Marie. ' I often think she does it on purpose. She always does it when I want to read one of my poems out loud.'
' Jolly sensible of her,' remarked Pat.
' La-di-la-di-la !' hummed Felicity. Miss Willcox stared at her very hard. She simply could not make out if the girl's actions were genuine or put on.
' Boom-di-boom, di-boom,' finished Felicity and banged the desk hard. ' Ah, I've got it at last!'
The girls laughed. Acting or not, it was very funny. Felicity beamed round. ' I have it!' she said. ' The melody I've had in my mind for the last two weeks. It goes like this-la-di-la-di-la . . .'
Now it was Miss Willcox's turn to bang on the desk. It was seldom that she really did lose her temper, for she considered that meant a loss of dignity, and Miss Willcox always liked to appear dignified and self-controlled. But really, Felicity was too much for any one !
' Leave the room,' commanded Miss Willcox, her voice trembling with anger. ' I won't have any one in my class playing the fool like this. You shouldn't have come up into the fifth form-you should have gone down into the third!'
' Go out of the room ? ' said Felicity, puzzled. ' Why must I ? I didn't mean to interrupt the lesson-I didn't do it on purpose. It came over me suddenly. Now I am quite all right.'
' Leave the room,' ordered Miss Willcox again. The girls were silent. It was almost unheard-of for a fifth form girl to be sent from the room. If Miss Theobald heard of it there would be serious trouble for Felicity.
Felicity got up and walked out of the room as if she was in a dream. She looked puzzled and shocked. She stood outside the door and leaned against the wall. Her head ached. Then the new melody came back again into it and she began to sing it quietly. The sound came into the silent classroom.
' Anne-Marie, tell Felicity to go to her study, and to write out the whole of the act of the play she is now missing,' said Miss Willcox. ' I will not have this behaviour.'
' Felicity thinks she's a genius,' said Anne-Marie. 'She's always acting like this.'
'I didn't ask for any comment,' said Miss Willcox. She always forgot to put on her deep, rather drawling
voice, when she was in a temper, and her voice now sounded rather harsh and unpleasant.
Almost every one got into trouble that morning. Doris was scolded for not knowing her part in the play they were reading. Alma was hauled up for eating sweets, 'like any silly little first former,' said Miss Willcox in disgust, taking the bag away from the fat, unhappy Alma.
' Poor old Pudding !' whispered Pat to Isabel. ' I believe eating is her only pleasure in life !'
' Pat! What did you say ? ' demanded Miss Willcox.
Pat went red.
' Well-I can't very well tell you,' she said, not wishing to repeat what she had said, and hurt Alma.
Miss Willcox at once felt certain that Pat had been saying something rude about her. ' Miss games this afternoon and write out your part in the play instead,' she snapped. Pat looked upset, but did not dare to argue with Miss Willcox in her present mood.
The girls grew nervous. Pauline dropped her books on the floor and made Miss Willcox jump. She got a few sharp words that made her squirm and look at the mistress with resentment. Bobby debated whether or not to cheer things up by making Miss Willcox and the class laugh but decided that nothing on earth would get a smile out of the mistress that morning. Whatever could be wrong with her ? She was not usually like this.
Only Alison and Anne-Marie gazed at her with admiration that morning. They both thought that their beloved Miss Willcox looked lovely with her dark soulful eyes flashing. A bit of Miss Willcox's hair came down and hung by her ear. Alison saw her feeling about for the pin that usually kept it up, and walked from her seat. She picked up the pin that had dropped and put it on Miss Willcox's desk with one of her rather sweet smiles. Somehow the action and the smile soothed Miss Willcox. ' Thank you, Alison,' she said, using the deep voice that always thrilled Anne-Marie and Alison. ' You are always on hand to help !'
Anne-Marie felt jealous. She never liked it when Miss Willcox praised Alison in any way. She sat looking gloomy. The class was amused to see this little byplay.
After the reading of the play was finished, there were five minutes left. ' Has any one found anything interesting to read ?' asked Miss Willcox, who always encouraged the class to bring any poem they liked or to quote any prose lines they came across, which pleased them.
Apparently no one had. ' We've been working too hard this week to read much,' said Hilary. ' We haven't time for anything till this awful exam. is over.'
'Miss Willcox,' said Anne-Marie, nervously smiling. ' Could I read the class a poem of mine, please ? I would so like to know if you like it.'
Miss Willcox was not really in the mood to hear poems by any one, since her own had been sent back. But the class, thinking that they could sit back and have a little rest for five minutes, applauded Anne-Marie's suggestion loudly. Anne-Marie flushed with pleasure. She thought they were welcoming her poem. It didn't enter her silly little head that the girls wanted a rest, and wouldn't listen to a word of it.
' Well,' said Miss Willcox, rather ungraciously, ' you can read it if you like, Anne-Marie.'
Anne-Marie got a piece of paper out of her desk, covered with her sprawling hand-writing, which was always far too big. She cleared her throat, and began, putting on a deep voice that was supposed to be a flattering imitation of Miss Willcox's own style.

'THE LONELY MILL

Lost in the wreathing mists of time,
Silent as years that are lost,
Brooding . . .'