Bessie at school

by Joanna H. Mathews

So the giving of the prizes was to be made quite a little affair. Some of the children were pleased, and some were not; timid Maggie, and one or two more who were afflicted with that troublesome shyness, being among the latter number.

But going to school had really proved of service to Maggie in conquering her extreme bashfulness, as her friends had hoped; and though her colour might still come and go, and her voice shake somewhat if a stranger spoke to her, she could now hold up her head, and answer as became a well-bred and polite little lady. Nor did she longer let it stand in the way of offering to do a kind thing for other people if she had the opportunity; but, when that came to her, tried to forget herself, and to think only of the help she might be. For, having the will to cure herself, Maggie had succeeded in her efforts, and her improvement in this respect was much to her credit.

As for Bessie, she cared little, except for Maggie's sake, whether there were half a dozen or fifty people present, besides those she called her "own." She was neither a shy nor a bold child; nor was she vain. But when she had a thing to do, she did it with a straightforward simplicity and a dignified, ladylike little manner, which were both amusing and attractive. If she knew the answer to a question, and that it was right for her to give it, she could do so almost as readily before a room full of people, as before one or two; and this was because she did not think of herself, or what people were thinking of her, but only if the thing were right, and of the proper way to do it.

Now I would by no means be understood to say that those little people who are not troubled with timidity themselves should blame or think hardly of those who suffer from it. It is a part of some natures, not of others; and those who are free from it should do all they can to help and encourage those who are not so. But certain it is that we can do much ourselves toward conquering this troublesome "little fox;" and, if my young readers could only know how much more happy as well as useful they may be when free from his vexatious attacks, I am sure they would do all they could to bury him out of sight and hearing.

For herself, Bessie had, as we know, no thought of a prize. From the older girls, influenced by Kate Maynard, she would not, she believed, receive a single vote. Kate had never withdrawn that threat; indeed, she had almost forgotten she had ever made it, and it never occurred to her that Bessie still expected her to act upon it. The little girls were divided, each one having her own favourite, whom she thought the most deserving, and for whom she intended to vote; and Bessie imagined that the only hope of the hospital bed for lame Jemmy lay with Belle Powers. For Belle was now so much interested in all that concerned Maggie and Bessie, that she was almost as anxious as they were to gain it for him; and she had been to Riverside with her young friends, and seen the lame boy, so that she took an interest in him on his own account also.

Lily Norris, too, had promised that if this prize came to her, she would give it to Jemmy; but there was small chance of that. Lily was a roguish, mischievous little thing, and a great chatterbox; and it would not do to tell how often she had broken the rules by talking and laughing aloud at forbidden times, throwing paper-balls, making faces, and so forth. No, no, Lily would never have the prize for being the best child in the school.

But in spite of her half-jealousy of Gracie Howard, and her acknowledgment to her mother that she might possibly earn the composition prize, Bessie had little doubt in her own mind that it would fall to Maggie, and thought it rather unreasonable in any one to expect to carry it away from her. Her own Maggie, who "made up" such delightful stories and plays, and who had written the "Complete Family," that wonderful book for which Uncle Ruthven had paid such a price, could scarcely fail to be the successful one here; and Bessie had little fear on that score. But she knew that Maggie's pleasure would be for the moment half destroyed if she were obliged to receive the prize in the presence of strangers; and she turned to her sister with a sympathising glance, which was met with a look of the utmost dismay from Maggie.

But there was one young heart there which was troubled with no such painful misgivings as poor Maggie's. A vain and ambitious little heart it was, and rather gloried in the opportunity of displaying its expected triumphs before a number of admiring eyes.

Gracie Howard was a very clever child, and none knew this better than herself. It had been often said in her hearing, not by her father and mother,—for they were too wise to do such a thing,—but by foolish people who imagined they would please her parents by saying so, and had no thought of the harm they might be doing the child. But Mr. and Mrs. Howard would have been far better satisfied to have their little daughter only half as clever, and to see her modest, humble, and free from the vanity which was spoiling all the finer traits of her character. Not that Gracie was a bad child by any means; on the contrary, she was, in many respects, a very sweet little girl. But ah, that ugly weed of self-conceit! how many fair plants and precious seeds it chokes up and keeps out of sight!

Mr. and Mrs. Howard had hoped that by sending her to school, where she would be thrown with other children, this fault of Gracie's might be checked. But it had only grown upon her, as they saw with sorrow.