The Mornin'-Glory Girl

								

It was apparent to the most casual observer that Mannel’s whole
wardrobe consisted of one grey shirt, one pair of faded blue overalls
and a pair of braces. To the uninitiated his occasional absences from
school for an entire day would have seemed most mysterious. Leading
questions as to the cause having been put to other members of the
family who were present elicited only a reluctant reply that Mannel
was not ill. Further than this they would not go. At last even on the
most obtuse one, light would dawn. Mannel was being laundered.
This small boy seemed to accept the limitations of his lot with a
Micawber-like philosophy. Indeed it may easily have escaped his
youthful notice, that there were persons in the world who did not have
to spend a day in bed while their clothing was being washed. To Mannel
a second set of garments, even of so simple a character as those he
constantly wore, would have seemed untold wealth.
Perhaps the fact that Mannel came from a home where Russian was the
language in use and that he knew little English, accounted for his
abnormal seriousness during school hours. He could not be absolutely
sure what was being said or what might be done to him. Perhaps some
cruel elder brother, before Mannel had even started his education, had
explained to him in voluble Russian that dreadful pains and penalties
were likely to follow the slightest deviation from the paths of
virtue. Certain it is that he kept a close watch on the teacher, and
that none of her slightest movements escaped him. Though his general
appearance might cause mirth in others, he himself seldom smiled. Day
by day he sat in his little front seat grasping slate and pencil in
chubby hands, gazing earnestly at the sums on the blackboard as he
copied them down. Afterward he worked these with fitting solemnity. To
him they appeared to be of the greatest difficulty and of national
importance. Sometimes he wrote endless rows of letters on his slate.
Sometimes he made nondescript figures out of plasticine or drew
patterns on his slate or counted beads. At other times, grievous to
relate, when he felt sure the teacher was otherwise engaged and could
not possibly see him, he drew fierce triangular cats with four or
perhaps five stiff, geometrical legs and rampant tails.
By two o’clock one bright afternoon in May the school children found
it hard to keep their minds concentrated on their lessons. But when
their teacher said, “Now, Moses, will you pass the singing books,” a
wave of awakened interest perceptibly cleared the atmosphere. Moses
promptly proceeded to distribute the geography textbooks.
“This aint got poultry in it nor moosic nor nothin’,” complained one
small youth. Moses made several further attempts to comply with the
modest request of his teacher and at last each child held in grubby
hands a book of quaint verses glorified by the tonic sol fah.