“Some of them claim to have had previous experience with ‘lady speakers.’ The general trouble, however, is that she comes from the city—is rumored to be something of an aristocrat and the people are afraid of her.”
In spite of these scattered feelings of fear and hostility, the teacher had a pretty fair attendance the first day. The second day it seemed as though some one, probably the girls themselves, had done some additional advertising. Toward the close of the afternoon the Representative suggested to Billy that he go up and see if she wanted anything.
The classes were over, but the girls were still there, and sounds unlike the scraping of pans or handling of dishes, or anything else pertaining to domestic science, came from the room. The door was open, and instead of finding the students bending over a yeast culture or copying the food constituents of cereals, he saw twenty or more girls coming down the hall practising the minuet. The teacher was there, with her back to him, demonstrating, of course; the girls themselves had never seen the minuet before—and Billy stood watching, open mouthed, for a full minute, before someone saw him, and the dance broke up in confusion. He came forward
to apologize to the teacher and when she turned he remembered; she was the “committee girl.”
The class filed out bashfully, and the teacher gave Billy some idea of what she was trying to do. Evidently she thought some explanation was due. The minuet, she explained, was part of some physical culture she was working into the course, and he heartily approved. He had observed a neighbor’s daughter, an awkward girl of sixteen, stiffened and sobered from the care of the family of younger children, actually relaxing and taking the bend with considerable grace. He had noticed the stolid, stoop-shouldered girl from the Home, whose pride, almost her self-respect, had been crushed out of existence, curving her spine and lifting her head in admirable imitation of Miss Macdonald’s poise. He didn’t wonder at this at all. If ever a school of physical culture turned out a model it must be this girl, with her slim, perfect physique, her quiet, supple carriage, her entire absence of self-consciousness. Her whole personality radiated a wholesomeness. From her regular, white teeth, her hair still shining from the brush and sending out little rusty glints from the brown hollows where the light struck it, to her white linen uniform and classy low-heeled shoes, she carried the mark of the thoroughbred. And feeling the warmth of her kind, happy eyes, hazel or gray or whatever they were, it didn’t matter, Billy almost
decided that these things were worth more than being pretty. He considered bringing Jean home from school for the two weeks—not for the sake of the course, just for the atmosphere.
In spite of her poise he surmised that she was taking her job pretty seriously.
“The playing part of it,” she explained, “will be questioned a good deal, I’m afraid; it isn’t outlined in the programme, but I believe it’s almost the most important here. Most of the girls can cook pretty well; you can tell by the way they listen to the reasons why you put meat to cook in cold water for soup, and boiling water for a stew; and by the questions they ask about why specialists have decided that it’s better to keep a baby’s feeding four hours apart instead of two. You can’t give them very much in two weeks, but they have so much that is practical to begin on that they can go right ahead and apply almost any principle they learn. When they’re through here they should be able to take the best Home Economics literature and study for themselves. We’re considering forming a ‘Better Homes Club’ and linking up with your Junior Farmers. What do you think?”
Billy accepted the idea with encouraging enthusiasm.
“That’s why it seems that the social part of it should be started under some direction. Do the boys skate?”