Word combinations

To master the problem

To miss

To sob

Tasks

1. Speak about the case of stealing eggs. What do you think of Joe Coggs?

2. What would you do if you were Miss Read?

3. What lodging problems did Miss Gray face?

SPRING WALK

One blue and white spring morning the sunlight streamed so temptingly through our high Gothic windows and the rooks cawed so encouragingly from the elm trees, that I decided that it was cruelty to children — and teachers — to stay indoors.

'Put your books away,' I told the delighted class, 'and we'll go out for a nature walk and see how many exciting things we can find.'

They rushed into the lobby, chattering busily, while they put on their coats. I went through to Miss Gray's room.

'This is too good to miss,' I said, indicating the window. 'Would you like to bring them out for half an hour?'

We buttoned coats and tied shoelaces amidst cheerful confusion; then two by two, with John Burton and Cathy Waites as leaders, we took our excited family out into the spring sunshine.

Mr. Roberts was laying a hedge with expert strokes of a chopping knife. He straightened up and smiled at the procession as it passed by. There was a chorus of greeting. "Morning, sir. Hello, sir. We's out for a walk! Too good to stop in,* Miss Read says!'

'Never heard of such a thing!' said Mr. Roberts, trying to appear deeply shocked at this news. 'Where are you going?'

'I thought I'd take them down to the wood to see if there are any early primroses and violets. We should get some catkins; but I don't want to be too long in case the managers find out!'

Mr Roberts' mighty laugh at this mild jest made little Eileen Barton run to the side of her big brother in alarm, and we left him, still smiling, to continue his work.

Our progress down the village street was greeted by cries and friendly shouts from windows and gardens. Mothers, making beds and dusting window-sills, called to us, the toddlers, fingers in mouths, watched us round-eyed. Mr Willet, who was inspecting a row of young beans, waved to us from his garden, and we all bounded along quite heady* with this unusual freedom, feeling devil-may-care* at having escaped from school and enjoying the surprise we were causing by our walk through the village.

We turned left along a narrow lane that led to a small copse at the foot of the downs. A fresh wind tossed the children's hair and the catkins that streamed, like banners, from the hazels in the hedge.

In the dry fine grass of the banks, the violets' leaves were showing, and the little girls searched industriously for the blue and white blossoms, holding their stems tightly in their small cold fingers, and sniffing at their bunches hungrily. Starved of flowers through the long winter months, now the full joy of this sensuous feast broke upon them.

High above us we could see the shepherd's hut and hear the distant tinkle of a sheepbell, and the children would stop short, heads cocked sideways to listen.

Soon we reached the copse, and some of the children sat in the shelter of the trees to rest, while others picked early primroses and anemones, or found other treasures... birds' feathers, coloured stones, or the large, pale-grey shells of the snails.

I leant against a post and watched a tractor, looking like a toy in the distance, creeping slowly across a field. Half the field was already ploughed, and behind the tractor fluttered a flock of hungry rooks, scrutinizing the fresh-turned earth for food.

Reluctantly, we returned bearing our trophies with us, with flushed faces and tangled hair. As we turned the bend of the lane I saw the school nurse's car outside our gate.

Nurse Barham, a plump motherly woman, with a Yorkshire brogue,* calls periodically to inspect heads and keep an eye open for any infection.

I watched her as she parted locks and ruffled the boys' hair, keeping up a monologue the whole time.

'Beautiful hair, dear, keep it well brushed. Now your hands. Spread out your fingers. Nice nails, not bitten, I see. Don't forget to wash them before dinner.'

The children do not seem to mind being subjected to this examination. Only the nail-biters looked rather fearfully at Nurse's face as they proffered their stubby fingers for inspection.

'You don't know of anyone who could put our new young teacher up,* I suppose?' I asked her, as she worked. Nurse Barham knows the neighbourhood well and realizes the difficulty of getting digs. 'Miss Clare suggested Mrs. Moffat — a newcomer here. I don't know whether she will be able to, I'm sure.'

'I can't think of anyone suitable,' said Nurse thoughtfully, 'but I'll remember to let you know if I come across anyone. I've met Miss Gray at music practices. She seems very nice, indeed. Mr Annett seems to think so, anyway,' she added mischievously and went off to her duties in the infants' room.

I felt vaguely annoyed by this last remark. Really, village gossip is quite irritating, I thought. The poor girl has only to be given a lift home by a neighbour and all the village starts gossiping about them. It was too bad, and I was a little cool with Nurse when she came back.

*

Miss Gray had liked the idea of going to Mrs. Moffat's bungalow if it could be arranged. Miss Clare, with true village caution, had advised us against going to Mrs. Moffat too precipitately.

'Let me mention it to Mrs. Finch-Edwards,' she had said, 'and let her talk to Mrs. Moffat. Then we can follow her lead.'*

I was glad about this arrangement, for although I was willing to have Miss Gray at my house, I realized that it was not an ideal plan. We had to work together during school hours and I felt it would be better for both of us to have our leisure times apart. Our relationship at school could not be happier, and I did not want to subject it to a serious trial.

Mrs. Finch-Edwards had spoken to Mrs. Moffat of Miss Gray being in need of lodgings with some wariness and was pleased to learn that Mrs. Moffat welcomed the idea.

'It would be a help with the housekeeping,' she said gratefully, 'and I only use the spare bedroom for my needlework and the sewing machine. All those things could easily go in the dining-room cupboard.' She pondered for a while. 'And she's a real lady-like girl,' she added, 'she'll set a good example to Linda. I'll talk it over with my husband tonight and let you know.'

And so it had been settled. Miss Gray had called at the bungalow and inspected the bedroom and admired the bathroom, they had discussed terms, to their mutual satisfaction, and Miss Gray was to move into her new home in a fortnight's time, with a very much lighter heart.

Дата добавления: 2015-11-16