02 Jo of the Chalet School (14 page)

Jo chuckled. ‘Wouldn’t Maynie get a shock! But it really is quite a decent idea, and no end educational!’

‘Well, what is it?’ Margia’s curiosity was aroused.

‘Why,’ said Jo, ‘you just collect pictures of great musicians, and then stick the picture on one page and put down all you can about the man on the other. Like: “Beethoven. A great German composer. Born at Bonn seventeen and something or other. Went deaf quite young,” and a list of his chief works, and where he died, and so on.’

Margia was gazing before her with the eyes of one who sees visions. ‘Joey! What a
splendacious
idea!

It’s simply gorgeous! You
are
a brain!’

‘I thought you’d like it,’ replied the originator of the idea as off-handedly as she could.

‘Oh, I
do
! I’ll make a topping book of it!’ Margia’s voice died away as she sat visualising her book. She would have brown pastel paper for the picture sides, and the nicest writing-paper she could get for the notes. Miss Bettany would get them for her the next time she was in Innsbruck, she knew. She would make holes through the sheets with a large knitting-needle, and tie them together with brown ribbon. They should have a cover of brown -

‘Ho! Margia Stevens! Wake up and take your coffee!’ said Grizel’s voice in her ear t that moment, and Margia came back to earth with a start, to find that
Kaffee und Kuchen
had been brought in, and Grizel was standing before her and offering her a large cup of coffee, while Bernhilda was just behind with the cakes.

They always had it picnic fashion on Saturdays, and no one ever interfered with them. Miss Bettany liked her girls to feel that there was at least one meal which was absolutely theirs. Mademoiselle La Pattre rather distrusted the idea, but the young head-mistress held to it firmly, and so far there had been nothing to prove it an impossible idea. The girls always behaved nicely, and the prefects kept an eye on the juniors.

Naturally, everyone was full of the new club this afternoon. Gisela had some idea of combining a concert with the ‘show’ at the end of net term, and inviting parents to come. ‘We could perform some of our new dances,’ she said. ‘I have heard Miss Durrant talk of several very pretty ones we might learn when we come back net term, and our parents would enjoy watching, for the English country-dances are so different form those of our own people.’

‘Our new English songs too,’ added Bernhilda. ‘I do like the last one Herr Denny taught us!’

‘ “My Bonny Lass, She Smileth,” d’you mean?’ asked Jo.

‘Yes; it is charming! And so is the one about “Green Brooms”!’

‘Green broom, you mean,’ corrected Grizel. ‘Broom is a plant, Bernie!’

‘I like the song so much, ‘said Bernhilda, quietly passing over Grizel’s correction. ‘It is a folk-song, is it not?’

‘Rather! Just as my “Appalachian Nursery Rhymes” are,’ replied Jo.

‘Why not give a “folk” entertainment?’ suggested Juliet. ‘Vanna and Luigia and Bianca could dance the Tarantella for us; and some of you Tyrolese could give us one of your Schuhplattler; and the French girls could sing “Monsieur de Cramoisie,” and “L’Arbre d’Amour”; and the babies could do nursery rhymes of all kinds; and we could
all
show the country-dances.’

‘We seem to be literally
spurting
with ideas this afternoon!’ laughed Jo. ‘That’s a jolly on, Juliet. -Hullo, Robin! What’s the trouble?’

The Robin danced forward, curls dancing, cheeks crimson with excitement. ‘Me, I will sing “Ze Red Sarafan” in ze Russian!’ she cried, and promptly lifted up a sweet baby voice in the well-known Russian folk-song.

They all clapped her, laughing at the pretty picture she made. She nodded her head at them joyously.

Then suddenly the little voice quivered and broke, and she buried her face in her dimpled hands in a perfect storm of tears. ‘
Maman! Maman!’
she sobbed. ‘
Oh, je veux toujours Maman!’

They were round her in an instant, petting her and trying to soothe her; but all their efforts were in vain, and she sobbed on. Nearly in tears herself – for there was something so desolate in the baby’s little wail –

Joey dashed out of the room and into the study, where Miss Bettany was entertaining her staff. At Joey’s unceremonious entry they all looked up amazed.

‘Jo!’ exclaimed her sister severely. ‘What does this mean?’

‘I’m sorry!’ gasped Joey incoherently. ‘It’s the Robin – crying! She was singing – “The Red Scavenger,”

or something like that; and then she wanted her mother!
Do
come!’

Miss Bettany was on her feet in a moment, and across the passage to where the poor mite was still sobbing out her pathetic little appeal, ‘
Maman! Maman! Viens, je te prie! Maman!
‘

Tender arms were round about her; soft dark curls, so like the lost mother’s, were against her cheek; then Miss Bettany bore her off to be cuddled back to serenity, while the girls finished their
Kaffee
rather more soberly.

‘She is so happy always,’ said Gisela, ‘that one forgets how short a time it is since the little mother left her.’

‘I suppose
she
used to sing that song,’ added Juliet. ‘Poor baby!’

Presently they turned back to the subject of the Hobbies Club again, and when a cheered-up and once more placid Robin joined them later on, they were very busy discussing hobbies and collections, and no more was said that night about the concert.

The remainder of the term simply flew. As Miss Maynard said, Monday no sooner came than it was Friday; and the week-end went faster even than that. Exam week followed the inauguration of the Hobbies Club, and various people wished on different days that they had worked a little harder during the term.

Jo Bettany groaned over every one of the maths papers. ‘That was a – a –
disgusting
fraction!’ she proclaimed to all and sundry after the arithmetic paper.

Margia, who was standing near, opened her eyes widely. ‘Why, Joey, it was easy! It came out to 2/13!’

‘
What!
‘ gasped Jo. ‘I say! I got 67685 / 107676!’

‘Joey! You
couldn’t
! What on earth have you done?’

‘Goodness knows!’ Jo resigned herself to her fate. ‘I never
could
do maths, and I never shall!’

But if the paper was, as Miss Maynard characterised it, ‘disgraceful!’ her English, French, and German were excellent, and so were her history and literature, in all of which Margia was only average. Frieda Mensch came out strong in geography; and of the seniors, Bernhilda headed the mathematics lists, with Grizel a good second, while Gisela and Juliet divided the languages honours between them, and Wanda von Eschenau proved to be an easy first in drawing.

The last afternoon was given up to a concert, which was attended by the people in the valleys round about, Herr Anserl and one or two of his friends from Spärtz, and a few parents, who managed to get up the snowy paths to the Tiern valley. Needless to state, everyone was wild with excitement at the prospect
Mittagessen
took place at twelve, and by half-past one all the girls were attired in white frocks and black hair-ribbons They had spent the morning in decorating the big school-room with branches of evergreen. A couple of screens cut off the upper end of the room, and the other part was filled with chairs and forms for the visitors, who began to arrive shortly after two. By half-past the room as full, and then Miss Bettany came forward an announce the first item, a madrigal, ‘How Fair the Sun.’ The screens were drawn aside, showing the rows of white-frocked girls, with Mr Denny in front of them to conduct.

‘Plato’ might be a freak, as Joey declared, but he certainly knew how to teach singing, and the harmony of fresh voices that filled the room was something to be proud of. Like all Austrians, the Tiern See people are musical, and they listened in a breathless silence, which told how they enjoyed it.

It was followed by the girls’ own favourite, ‘My Bonny Lass, She Smileth’; and then they snag one of Martini’s canons.

Herr Anserl sat looking unusually pleased. ‘
Herrgott!
‘ he observed to Miss Bettany. ‘but he has made something of them, this young man!’

The Head nodded. ‘They sing well,
nicht wahr
?’

‘Excellently well! I must greet him Herr Denny! He is a brother!’

Luckily, the room was too crowded for Herr Anserl to move, and Mr Denny was at the other side of it, so the threatened embrace could not take place just yet. The singing was followed by a piano solo by Margia, who was some day to surprise the world with her music; and Gisela gave a charming rendering of Martini’s
Preghiera
for the violin. Grizel and Frieda played a pianoforte duet, Mendelssohn’s ‘Fingal’s Cave,’ with strict attention to time, and very little to anything else, and then they all sang again – one of the folk-songs this time, ‘Come, all you valiant Christian men.’

After this there was an interval, during which Amy Stevens, Simone Lecoutier, and Maria Marani distributed papers among the audience, on which were written the words of the German carol,
Stille Nacht,
Heilige Nacht
, and also the Latin hymn,
Adeste Fideles
. Then Miss Bettany came forward once more and explained. ‘We are going to give you a Nativity play,’ she said. ‘It is in English, and is called
The Youngest
Shepherd
. As you all know, it was to the “shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flocks by night” that the angel of the Nativity told the good new of Christ’s birth. Our little play is based on that story, and we should like you, when we come to them, to join us in the Christmas songs written on the sheets given you.’

Then she vanished, and the screens were drawn, to show an ordinary room with modern children in it. It was Christmas Eve, and the children were talking – quarrelling – till a carol outside made them stop: such a lovely carol – ‘Good Christian men, rejoice,’ sung as only Mr Denny’s pupils could sing.

The four children hushed their wrangling then, and spoke instead of the next day, and what it brought to the world. Then the curtains parted, and the Youngest Shepherd stood before them. He told them of the Angel Song, and explained that, as he was the youngest of all the shepherds, he had had to stay behind to look after the sheep, but God had sent an angel down to guard them, so that he, too, might go and worship at the Manger; and he invited the children to go with him. They all sprang to their feet ready to go. Then they remembered all who had gone to worship the Baby King had taken Him gifts; so they caught up their own favourite possessions to give. The young shepherd drew aside the curtains, saying, ‘See! Listen!’

A throng of angels were there, and they were singing the English carol, ‘In the Fields with their Flocks Abiding.’

The children stood listening, till the lights dimmed, and the song died away into the pealing of Christmas-bells, and the screens were swiftly drawn across the stage. The next scene was out of doors. The children came in wearily with the Youngest Shepherd. It was a long way, and they were so tired! A poor Man came by them, and asked where they were going. They told him, and asked him to come with them, but he said kings never gave audience to the poor and needy such as he. For reply, they told him that this was the King of the poor and needy. He laughed at them, and then the Youngest Shepherd, as a final answer, sang the old

‘Cherry Tree’ carol. They had all known that Joey could sing, but no one had quite realised the beauty of her voice before. It was not a very strong voice, but each note was round and pure, with the bell-like quality to be found in some boy-choristors’ voices. She was utterly unself-conscious, and had, in fact, forgotten everything but the fact that she must get this Man to realise that the King wanted him too.

There was a low murmur as the last clear note died away, but the audience were too deeply interested in the story to applaud.

Then the Man agreed to come; but, just as they were about to move on, a great Lady, clad in whispering silks with many jewels about her, met them, and asked their destination. They told her they were going to see the King, and she sneered at their manner of going. Kings, she told them, could only be visited in great pomp. They begged her to come and see, and at first she refused. Then the smallest child held out her hand and said, ‘Do come! Oh, do come!’ and she gave way and came, and they passed on.

There was a little silence at that; then suddenly the lovely chorus rang out, ‘There cam three kings,’ and the Magi appeared, bearing their gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Caspar, Melchior, and Balthazar paused in their following of the Star to rest and to discuss the meaning of their gifts. Then they too went forward, and the screens were drawn once more.

During the three minutes’ interval there came another carol, ‘When the Crimson Sun had Set,’ with its wonderful chorus of
Gloria in excelsis Deo
. When it was finished, the stage was revealed once more – the door of the Stable. An archangel stood there, the white lily of peace in his hand. Music stole out into the room, and as one the audience rose, and the old German carol,
Stille Nacht, Heilige Nacht
, was sung with full throats. When it was over, and they were all sitting once more, the Angel-chorus sang again, the ‘Bird’

carol this time. Then silence fell, and the shepherds appeared.

How weary they were – and how eager! At the door they paused. Would the King be pleased to see them? Yes; surely He would. He had seen the angel to tell them. So they passed in, and the chorus sang

‘The First Nowell.’

Next came the Wise Men, and they paused in wonderment before the humble place.
This
was no King’s abode. But the Star had stopped, so it must be right, and they, too, passed in.

Finally came the Youngest Shepherd and his little group. To the singing of the children’s carol, ‘Come to the Manger in Bethlehem,’ the children pressed forward into the Stable. The Man and the Lady followed more slowly. He had no gift but himself to offer. He was scarcely even a shepherd; just a servant to help the others. But at last he, too, went slowly in, and the screens were drawn back once more across the stage.