Page:Harper's New Monthly Magazine - v109.djvu/513

From Wikisource
Jump to navigation Jump to search
This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
FIRST AID TO KITTIE JAMES.
471

animations, and eating raw eggs, and writing to her mother that her constitution was wrecked and she'd better send for her to come home while there was yet hope. Mrs. James wasn't frightened, though, because Kittie always did that when examinations came round.

When Mabel Blossom and Maudie Joyce and Mabel Muriel and I saw how Kittie felt, we were very sorry we had taken up so much of her time, and we wanted to do something; but we couldn't think of anything that would help her much. Besides, we were beginning to "cram" ourselves, and that took most of our time—though this, as I pointed out to the others, was no excuse for deserting a dear companion in distress. Finally Mabel Blossom said we might do something, and couldn't we divide up the labor, and this gave me an idea, and I told Mabel to stop right off so I could express it. It is surprising how the ear rebels from frivolous chatter when the intellect is at work on a problem. That's what my brother Jack always tells me when he is thinking about the girl he is going to marry and I want to talk about things that are important. I asked Kittie which examinations she was most afraid of, and Kittie said she guessed algebra, history, rhetoric, physiology, Latin, and constitution would be the worst. Mabel Blossom giggled, because those were all there were; but I checked the frivolous girl with a reproving glance. Kittie was hurt, poor child. Then I lifted my voice and told them in measured tones what we would do.

I said we four—Mabel, Maudie, Mabel Muriel, and I—would each give Kittie private lessons in those branches. I said I would teach her rhetoric and Latin, and Mabel Muriel spoke right up and said she would take history (of course, because Sister Edna teaches that!), and Maudie said she would teach Kittie physiology and algebra, and Mabel Blossom said she would take constitution, and "it would have no secrets from Kittie by the time she got through." Mabel is always so sure of everything. Kittie was so grateful she cried, because she said it would be such fun and cheer her up so. Then we went into executive session and planned just how we would do it. The gentle reader will forgive me if I say modestly that here again it was my brain, so artistic yet so strangely practical, that worked out all the details. The others agreed, of course, wisely knowing what was best for them; and then Kittie got out biscuits and jars of jam and chocolate and pickles and canned salmon and cheese and a chafing-dish, and we celebrated the rest of the evening, for of course it was not worth while to begin that night.

We had arranged that each of us should give Kittie one hour a day. That would make four hours a day for Kittie, besides her class work, and she began to look scared right off. But we encouraged her by telling her she was so far behind she couldn't succeed with any less, and we said if we were willing she ought to be. So Kittie sighed and looked grateful again.

Before I left I told Kittie I would give her rhetoric and Latin every morning from half after five to half after six, because I hadn't any other hour to spare, and it wouldn't hurt either of us to get up an hour earlier than usual. Mabel Blossom said she would give her the recreation hour immediately after the noon meal, and Maudie Joyce said she would come to her from eight to nine in the evening, and Mabel Muriel said she would coach her every night from nine to ten. And we all said we'd begin the next day, because there was only a month left before the examinations began and much must be accomplished. Kittie looked dreadfully worried, and not very grateful, but of course she couldn't say anything, and after she had eaten some of Maudie's Welsh rarebit she cheered up.

There is no bell at half after five in the morning, and I had no alarm-clock, so I had to set my mind on the hour, the way they do in books, but it didn't work very well. I woke at twelve and at a quarter of one and at half after two and at three and at four. Then I didn't dare to go to sleep again, for when we parted I had given my promise to Kittie to be there promptly at half after five, and she was quite grateful about it, because then she had just eaten the rarebit. I got up at five and took my bath and slipped on my kimono—the one that's so becom-