The lesson in arithmetic consisted of ten examples in simple interest. Ella finished these in a little while, and supposed there was nothing more to be done; but when the class was called, she found that the scholars were sent to put their work on the blackboard, and were then to explain it in exactly the way given in the book. She had done the examples in a way that was easier, but was different; and she was out of it again. Oh, if she only could be just like other girls, she wailed mentally.
So the morning went on. Ella was first “in,” then “out” again. The lesson in mental arithmetic was very easy, she thought, as she read the questions, but she never dreamed of learning them by heart. The teacher told the class to close their books, and then she read,
“Bought a piano for $300, and ⅖ of the cost of the instrument was 4/3 of what I received of nine young ladies for its use one year; how much did each young lady pay for its use?”
Ella was greatly taken aback. She could not recite the question with her book closed; and even if she had learned this one, could she learn such nonsense as the one that stood next to it, “¾ of ⅔ of 70 are 5/12 of 4 times what number?” She was afraid not, and for the first time she began to wonder if a school of boys and girls would really be so much pleasanter than a school of young ladies. She felt hopelessly disgraced when she had to say to the teacher, “I don’t know.”
There was one more recitation before the school closed at noon, and that was grammar. The little store had been out of grammars, and therefore Ella had not been able to learn the lesson. The teacher had told her that she might ask Ida anything that she wanted to know. The first thing she asked was why Ida’s grammar was pencil-marked with straight lines beside some of the paragraphs and not the rest.
“Why, those marked are what we learn,” Ida replied.
“What are the others about?”
“I don’t know. No one ever reads those.”
Ella’s little pink grammar at home began,
“Do all nations use the same language?” and the answer was,