Miss Fanny put her hand on Sally's shoulder and said something about a
divided duty. And Sally cried some more, and Miss Fanny sat down at the
desk and helped her.
Emmy Lou saw it. She had come upstairs, in a moment of doubt and
perplexity, to consult the Dictionary; the word was _heretic_.
It was this way. They had been in a group at recess and Mary Agatha was
dividing her button-string. Mary Agatha said she had given up worldly
things, and it would be a sin for her to own a button-string.
She offered Hattie a button. Hattie refused it; she said if it was a sin
to own a button-string, why should Mary Agatha offer her buttons to
other people? And she walked off. Hattie had an uncompromising way of
putting things. Hattie was a Presbyterian.
Emmy Lou felt anxious; she had been offered a button first and had taken
it gratefully, for her button-string was short.
But Mary Agatha assured her that she and Hattie and the others of the
group could own button-strings where Mary Agatha could not. A mere
matter of a button-string made small difference. They were Heretics.
Rosalie put her arm about Emmy Lou. Being High Church, she did not take
it to herself; she took it for Emmy Lou.
Emmy Lou hesitated. Ought she to be offended? Was she a Heretic? Emmy
Lou was cautious, for she had contradicted Hattie about being an Animal,
and then had to confess on paper that such she was.
But Sadie had no doubts. Sadie, following the revival, had joined the
church, and she felt she knew where she stood. "I'd have you know," said
Sadie, "I'm a Christian," and Sadie began to cry.
Rebecca Steinau lifted her black eyes. She gave her beringed little
hand a dramatic and conclusive wave. "You're all of you Gentiles," said
Rebecca.
Emmy Lou left the group. As Animal, Biped, Intermediate, Low Church,
Episcopalian, Gentile, and possible Heretic, she went upstairs to seek
the Dictionary. It was a moment of doubt and perplexity; with labouring
absorption she and her index finger pored over the page.
"One whose errors are doctrinal and usually of a malignant character--"
Ought she to be offended?
The bell rang. The class filed in. Sadie's eyes were red. Miss Fanny
tried not to see her--her eyes were chronically red. But so insistently
and ostentatiously did Sadie continue to mop them, that Miss Fanny was
compelled to take notice.
Sadie told her grievances. Her voice broke on Heretic, and she wept
afresh at Gentile.
[Illustration: "She and her index finger pored over the page."]
Miss Fanny was outdone. She said they had better all be little Heretics
than little Pharisees; she said she only needed a few infant Turks and
Infidels, and her sectarian Babel would be complete.
That day there were more notes. Miss Fanny gave them this time. To Sadie
and Mary Agatha and Rebecca and Sally among others.
Emmy Lou heard about the notes afterward. Each said the same thing. Each
said that Sadie or Rebecca or Mary Agatha or whichever little girl it
might be, had repeatedly fallen below; that she had not for weeks given
her mind to her lessons, and she could not conscientiously be
recommended as ready for Examination for the Grammar School.
The next day, near recess, there came a knock at the Fifth Reader door.
Sadie's mamma came in. Sadie grew red. One always grows red when it is
one's relative who comes in. Sadie's mamma was a pale, little lady who
cried. She cried now. She said that for Sadie to be kept back for no
other reason than her natural piety, was evidence of a personal
dislike. She said Miss Fanny had upheld another little girl who called
Sadie a Heretic.
Miss Fanny asked Sadie's mamma to sit down on the bench. Recess was
near, and then Miss Fanny could talk.
There came a knock at the door. A lady with black eyes came in. Rebecca
got red. It was Rebecca's mamma. She said Rebecca had always done well
at school. She said Rebecca was grand at figures. She said Miss Fanny
had thrown her religion at Rebecca, and had called her a Pharisee.
Miss Fanny asked Rebecca's mamma to sit down on the bench. It would soon
be recess.
Sadie's mamma and Rebecca's mamma looked at each other coldly.
The door opened. Sally got red. Sally looked frightened. It was Sally's
mamma. The flower in her bonnet shook when she talked. She said Sally
had refused to go to church for fear of Miss Fanny. And because Sally
had been made to do her religious duty she was being threatened with
failure----
Miss Fanny interrupted Sally's mamma to say there was the bench, if she
cared to sit down. At recess Miss Fanny would be at leisure.
Mr. Bryan threw open the door. Mary Agatha grew pink as Mr. Bryan waved
in a slender lady with trailing silken skirts and reproachful eyes. It
was Mary Agatha's mamma. She said that even with the note, threatening
Mary Agatha with failure, she could not have believed it true; that Miss
Fanny disliked Mary Agatha because of the seat to herself; that Miss
Fanny had classed Mary Agatha with Turks and Infidels--but since Mr.
Bryan had just admitted downstairs that he had had to caution Miss Fanny
about this matter of religion----
Miss Fanny looked at Mr. Bryan. Then she rang the bell. It was not yet
recess-time; but since Miss Fanny rang the bell, the Fifth Reader Class
filed out wonderingly. Miss Fanny, looking at Mr. Bryan, had a queer
smile in her eyes. Yet it was not as though Miss Fanny's smile was
laughter.
But, after all, Sadie and Mary Agatha and Sally and Rebecca did try at
Examination. Miss Fanny, it seemed, insisted they should. A teacher
from the Grammar School came and examined the class.
Later, one went back to find out. There was red ink written across the
reports of Sadie and Sally and Mary Agatha and Rebecca. It said
"Failure."
Emmy Lou breathed. There was no red ink on her report. Emmy Lou had
passed for the Grammar School.
Down-stairs Mary Agatha said her papa would see to it because she had
failed. Her papa furnished pokers and shovels for the schools, and her
papa would call on the Board.
Mary Agatha's Papa did see to it, and the papas of Sadie and Sally and
Rebecca supported him. They called it religious persecution; and they
wanted Miss Fanny removed.
Emmy Lou heard about it at home. It was vacation.
Uncle Charlie owned a newspaper. It was for Miss Fanny. And Miss Fanny's
grandpapa, talking at the gate with Uncle Charlie, struck the pavement
hard with his cane; he'd see about it, too, said her grandpapa. Emmy Lou
heard him.
But when it came time for the Board to meet, Miss Fanny, it seemed, had
resigned. Aunt Louise read it out of the paper at breakfast.
"How strange--" said Aunt Louise.
"Not at all," said Uncle Charlie.
Aunt Louise said, "Oh!" She was reading on down the column.
"--resignation by request, because the Board, in recognition of her
merit and record as Teacher, has appointed her Principal of the new
school on Elm Street."
"But she's not a man," said Emmy Lou when it had been explained to her.
Emmy Lou was bewildered.
"It's a departure," said Uncle Charlie.
"Don't tease her, Charlie," said Aunt Cordelia.
Emmy Lou felt troubled; she liked Miss Fanny; she could not bear to
contemplate her in the guise of Principal. One could never like Miss
Fanny then any more.
Miss Fanny's mamma had cried because Miss Fanny was a teacher, Emmy Lou
remembered. But that was nothing to this.
Some teachers could be nice. Miss Fanny had been nice. But to be a
Principal!
Emmy Lou had known but one type. She looked up from her plate. "I reckon
Miss Fanny's mamma will cry some more," said Emmy Lou.