“You don’t? Are you college graduates?” (Sarcastically)
“No, but we have our Regents’ Certificates and pass-cards.”
“Regents’ certificates?—what are they?”
Had the bottom fallen out of everything? The Regents, THE REGENTS—that tyrant for which we had toiled so long, whose coveted seal we had on our precious diplomas! And she doesn’t even know what the Regents is!
We learned several lessons that bitter hour. Our explanations, though lame, must have been intelligible, for, moderating a little, she explained that they had no such system in Massachusetts, and that it would be necessary to qualify in certain studies since we were not graduates of a college; but that as we were so recently out of school (and this seemed reprehensible on our part), we would probably have no difficulty. Then she examined our papers. Those cold eyes passed rapidly up and down; once in a while she would look up, sometimes ask a question, then read on. She could not have been conscious of the torture she inflicted, or she would surely have been easier on those sleepy, hungry, homesick girls, so completely at her mercy. Now as I dimly recall what my essay was, I wonder that her sarcasm and harshness were so moderate. I remember I quoted from “Lucile” about the mission of woman being “to help and to heal the sick world that leans on her.” She grunted when she put my paper down, and I breathed freer. Then, taking up Belle’s, she gave an angry snort—something had acted like a red rag to a bull:
“Minnie Isabel Washburn! Is that your name?”
“Ye-es, ma’am,” Belle timidly confessed.
“Were you christened that?” (Glaring at her)
“I wasn’t christened, I was baptized,” Belle corrected boldly, the Baptist in her rampant—her religion was something for which she could show courage even in this encounter.
“Well, it won’t be tolerated here. When will mothers learn to give their children sensible names? Doctor Minnie Washburn! How will that sound?” and she almost annihilated us in scorn. Belle was speechless, Belle the assured one, to whom I had looked for leadership and help in all these new experiences; Belle of the boasted self-confidence, of the undaunted courage! It was a strange sight to see her cowed, but that woman’s face and voice were enough to intimidate any one. Without thinking, surprised and scared at my own voice, but goaded to it by the pain she was inflicting, I ventured: