Elizabeth, Betsy, and Bess—schoolmates

by Amy Ella Blanchard

It was one cold day in January that Elizabeth found her excitement. If she could have foreseen the nature of it she would not have been so anxious to stir up the humdrum routine, but she did not foresee. Neither did Bert. This youngster was as full of mischief as any boy of his age is liable to be, and his chief aider and abetter was Patsy McGonigle. What one did not think of the other did. It was not that they disliked their teacher or that they wanted to annoy her, but it was so deadly dull with nothing but lessons, and sitting still was so very hard for restless creatures like themselves that if they could break the monotony by causing a little ripple of mirth they did not see why anyone should object so very much.

It was with some such thought in mind that Bert began his day. On the way to school he had captured a little field-mouse. He did not mean to hurt it, and did not know exactly what he meant to do with it, but first of all he must provide a cage for it, so he took his lunch from the tin box in which he carried it, punched a few holes through the bottom of it with a nail, popped Mr. Mouse inside, and there he was safe and secure. The luncheon was wrapped up in a piece of paper and Bert proceeded to school. Once or twice he slipped a few crumbs inside the box so that the mouse might not feel himself utterly neglected, and would realize that he had a friend at hand. The rest of the time the box rested in Bert’s desk. There came a moment, however, when the spirit of mischief whispered in Bert’s ear: “Why don’t you have a little fun? What’s the use of living if you can’t have fun?” Bert listened to the voice of the charmer. Why not have some fun? If he let the mouse out, slyly, of course, no one would imagine he had anything to do with it, and it would be such sport to see the girls all jumping about and climbing up on chairs. Even Miss Jewett would be scared; it would be so funny to see her. Now was the propitious moment, for Miss Jewett was putting some work on the board, the room was quiet, everyone was busy. Bert opened his desk a little way and put his hand in. He gently lifted the lid from the box and shut his desk quickly, then he appeared to be applying himself diligently to his books. In a few minutes he quietly opened his desk a few inches and presently the mouse peeped forth.

Just what made Elizabeth turn her head at the critical moment it would be difficult to tell, but she did so just in time to see the mouse come forth and to see Bert’s eyes full of laughter. She knew Bert well enough to understand what had happened. For a second she gazed with fascinated eyes at the little creature creeping along the desk. Chilled by its stay in the tin box, it moved slowly and Elizabeth was as quick as a wink. She started up, threw her handkerchief over the mouse, grabbed it and thrust it into her desk without creating much confusion. Even Bert did not know that she had seen him open his desk to let it out. The girls and boys behind her began to giggle. Some of them saw what she did but they had not quite understood. Others thought it was a make-believe mouse which she had brought to school to amuse herself and the rest. Some thought she had taken something of her own away from Bert, but no one knew his part in the performance, or had any idea that her whole purpose was to save Bert from discovery and the school from an uproar. It was a most exciting situation and Elizabeth rather enjoyed it. She could hear the mouse running around inside her desk and she slipped a pencil under the lid that he might have air. Betsy was all alert and looked at her inquiringly. Elizabeth suppressed a giggle. She was not in the least afraid of mice and rather admired the long ears and big eyes of the little field-mice. She would like to make a pet of this one, but it would probably be better to let it go free she decided.

Betsy continued to look from Elizabeth to her desk with an inquiring expression. Finally she could stand it no longer and wrote on her slate. “What is it?”

By the same means Elizabeth wrote her answer: “Mouse.” Then both began to giggle and a titter ran around the rows of boys and girls behind them.

Miss Jewett looked around sharply. “What is the matter?” she asked.

The faces all sobered down. Lessons appeared to be the sole interest. Miss Jewett returned to her work on the board.

As soon as her back was turned all eyes were bent with interest upon Elizabeth’s desk. Nothing happened and the eyes went back to the books. Presently Elizabeth discovered that she needed a book from her desk. How could she get it? What was she to do when other books were needed? She began to see difficulties before her. Why she did not have the courage to walk up to Miss Jewett and say, “Miss Jewett, there is a mouse in my desk,” it is hard to say. It would have been the easiest way out of the dilemma. At all events she did not do it, but by movements and signs let Betsy understand that she wanted the loan of her dictionary.

Those in the rear began to comprehend the situation more clearly and the tittering recommenced. Just as Betsy was making the transfer Miss Jewett turned and saw who was the central figure of interest. She determined to find out what Elizabeth was doing, for she was evidently amusing the school in some way. Down the aisle walked Miss Jewett and stood at Elizabeth’s desk as she received Betsy’s book into her hands. “Haven’t you a dictionary of your own, Elizabeth?” she asked.

“Yes, Miss Jewett,” was the prompt reply.